Fear Familiar Bundle (140 page)

"Sarah, they'll be ready for the appetizer in ten minutes."

She looked up to find the headwaiter watching her. He was staring at Familiar. She stood. "Coming right up."

One eye on Familiar, she bent to the oven and started putting the finishing touches on the main dishes. A serving staff would take heaping platters to the seated diners. Sarah had everything ready for the first course when the waiters appeared.

"Working with you is like clockwork," one of the waiters said. "Always professional. And believe me, from the comments I'm hearing, this is going to pay off. You'll be busy for the rest of the holiday season."

"Thanks." Sarah nodded.

Thirty minutes later she was putting the main course on trays. Daniel had popped in twice to report that all was well at the party, and Familiar was pacing the kitchen, almost tripping her every time she took something from the oven. It wasn't like the black cat to be so aggravating. He was actually clawing up her pant leg and trying to get to the pork chops. Yet when she offered him a sample, he didn't want to eat any of it. Maybe he was coming down with some kitty illness. She'd have to find a really good vet in town.

"Okay." She nodded as the trays of pork chops were lifted and taken in to the dining room. She turned back to the stove, failing to notice that Familiar had followed right on the heels of the second waiter.

She'd drawn in her breath to give a sigh of relief— only dessert remained— when she heard the sound of breaking dishes and a low murmur of surprise that turned to…fear?

What in the world had happened? She went to the door to listen. If the waiters had dropped the dishes…but that was impossible. Those guys had never bungled a meal in their lives.

"Sarah Covington!" Lucinda Watts's voice was wild with anger. "Get in here and get this damn cat!"

"Familiar." Sarah's quick look around the kitchen told her the awful truth. Familiar was nowhere to be seen. She hurried into the dining room, her eyes unwilling to register the mayhem that appeared. Two platters of pork chops were on the floor, and Familiar stood beside them, hissing at anyone who tried to get near. Several women were clutching their throats in near hysteria while a couple of men had risen, ready for whatever action was necessary. There was a lull in the conversation, then a rush of noise.

"Get that damn cat out of my house before I kill him." Lucinda stood at her place at the table, hands braced on the beautiful linen cloth. She was trembling with fury.

"Familiar." Sarah spoke softly to the cat. "He must be sick," she said, realizing too late that such a statement would only make matters worse.

"Get that diseased cat out of here." Lucinda's voice rose to just below a shriek. "Take him to a veterinarian and have him confined. If he has some disease, I want to know. We may all have to have vaccinations or something." At the murmur of concern that flew around the table, Lucinda snapped her mouth shut.

"Maybe we should just shoot him." The man who sat at Lucinda's right stood. He signaled to two men who stood at parade rest near the dining room door. At his motion, they reached into their jackets and started forward.

"Don't you dare touch him." Sarah's concern for the cat finally overrode her horror at the scene. "I'll take care of him." She scooped Familiar into her arms and hurried back to the kitchen with him. She had to get him to her car before some other bozo got the bright idea of killing him.

"Give him to me." Daniel appeared at her side and she passed the cat off to him. "I was standing outside the dining room, pretending to be Senator Beaumont's aide. Familiar literally flew across the room and tackled the waiter. When he'd knocked one down, he went after the other."

Sarah felt tears building. It was so stupid, but she was furious, therefore she was ready to cry. "They were going to kill him."

"Let's get out of here."

Sarah nodded. "First, let me clean up some of that mess. I can't just leave my food all over the floor like that. It's humiliating." In the kitchen she found several large plastic bags. Dreading every step, she returned to the dining room where the guests were still seated at the table in shock.

"I hope you're satisfied." Lucinda almost hissed at her. "All of my plans, ruined. My very future put in jeopardy. You'll pay for this, young woman."

Sarah was so startled by the expression of pure hatred on Lucinda's face that she stopped, plastic bag in hand, frozen beside the two unfortunate heaps of pork chops. The two waiters, chagrin evident in their faces, had backed up against the wall.

"Lucinda, there's no need to upset yourself further." Vincent Minton appeared at her side and gently put an arm around her, pulling her against him. The look he gave Sarah was filled with understanding and disappointment. Guiding Lucinda, he turned her away and led her from the room.

"Let me give you a hand." The headwaiter appeared beside Sarah and bent to assist her in cleaning up the pork chops.

"Don't touch them," she said woodenly. She couldn't believe what had happened. Familiar had never behaved in such a fashion. Something was wrong with him. But what? What would make him attack two waiters and ruin an elegant party? She didn't even question that he had done it deliberately. As the waiter reached toward the food, Sarah blocked him. "Really, don't touch them."

"What?" He backed off several inches, giving her a look that showed his concern for her mental stability.

"There might be something wrong with the pork chops." She spoke without analyzing her thoughts. "There had to be a reason he attacked like that. Maybe…" She eyed the food, remembering the way Familiar had attempted to get her attention in the kitchen. And failed. "Let me do this," she said. "Serve some wine or do something to distract the guests." She could feel every eye in the room on her. She was finished, that much she knew. She'd never get another job catering in D.C. As shocked as everyone was now, as soon as they got home they'd be buzzing with the gossip that Lucinda Watts's big dinner had been destroyed by some stupid caterer who'd brought her cat with her. The real facts didn't matter. By breakfast tomorrow, the story would be blown completely out of proportion. The only thing they wouldn't get wrong would be her name, and Lucinda's. Unfortunately, Lucinda would suffer as much public humiliation as Sarah would herself. In the D.C. scheme of things, Lucinda was responsible for hiring incompetent help, a sin almost as deadly as being incompetent.

Sarah bagged the food and hurried from the room. There was nothing to do but pack up her stuff and get out of there as fast as possible.

Daniel met her in the kitchen, and in less than fifteen minutes they'd almost packed the car. "What about dessert?" he asked.

"Leave it. Better yet, put it down the garbage disposal." Sarah had considered serving the remainder of the meal, but she was certain Lucinda wanted her out of the house as rapidly as possible. Besides, she was uncertain about the food, about what might have been done to it. She started shoving the delicate pecan tortes down the disposal. "How's Familiar?"

"Trying like hell to get out of the car," Daniel said. He shook his head. "I have no idea what got into him. He was vicious. So aggressive, I thought he was going to take that waiter down by the throat. And when the poor guy tried to save the platter of food and hand it to one of the guests, Familiar launched himself at the platter."

"Is there any way you could get something analyzed at the lab?"

Daniel thought for a moment he'd misunderstood her question. "You mean, the FBI lab?"

"Right." She stared directly at him. "I don't think anything's wrong with Familiar. I think something is terribly wrong with that food."

Comprehension touched Daniel's face. "He deliberately knocked the food to the floor so that no one would eat it."

"He tried to stop me in the kitchen, but I guess he didn't want to get rough with me." She found, even among the disastrous events, that she could still smile. "He didn't mind getting rough with the waiters."

"They're guys," Daniel said, smiling, also. "They can take it."

"Can you get access to the lab?"

Daniel had wondered how he was going to tell her he wasn't exactly fired. Not exactly, if he understood Paul Gottard's message. He wasn't fired and he wasn't an agent. He was in limbo, tucked away somewhere without any protection, and without any legal privileges. But he might be able to get something through the lab, even though the very thought of Cody Pruett made him feel guilty.

"Maybe. I'm not exactly certain what my status with the Bureau is right now. I'm under suspicion for murder and misuse of my authority. They don't believe I lost my badge and gun, but they aren't willing to arrest me. In fact, I'm still assigned to your case, if you can assign someone who may or may not work for you."

She bit back the harsh criticism that formed on her lips. It wouldn't do Daniel any good now to hear her low opinion of the FBI. Instead she shifted the focus to the immediate problem. "I know there's something wrong with the chops. The question is, how did it happen? The only time I left the kitchen was when I was with you, mingling among the guests."

"And Familiar was there in the kitchen. He would have warned us if anything was amiss."

Sarah's eyes opened wider. "But he was in a closet. He came out acting like he'd been asleep! Lucinda saw him and commented on his presence at her party."

"I'll bet someone pushed him into that closet, maybe even knocked him out."

"And when I came out of the bathroom from changing clothes, Lucinda was at the oven. She'd been stirring something in the pan."

"The pork chop pan?"

Sarah nodded.

"Familiar may have not only saved your career, he could have saved someone's life. Several someones. Grab your coat and let's get out of here. I have a meeting with Paul Gottard I have to make, and I want you with me. It's time he met you for himself."

Sarah swallowed back her instant protest. The idea of meeting the FBI director made her mouth go dry. Gottard had not been in the agency when her father was a sheriff, but that didn't change her opinion of the way the FBI worked. After all, look at what they were doing with Daniel. He didn't have to go into great detail to let her know he'd been left hanging out on a limb, just swinging in whatever breeze happened to blow. She could see the bitter hurt in his eyes. He wasn't fired, but if anything went wrong, the FBI would deny that he worked for them. Great!

"Sarah." Lucinda's voice was like a whip cracking.

Both Sarah and Daniel turned to face her. She stood at the kitchen door with a very anxious Vincent Minton just behind her.

"Lucinda," Vincent said softly, "it was an accident. It was poor judgment to bring the cat, but Sarah would never deliberately create such a mess."

Lucinda shook off his hand. "Where is that animal? I've called my doctor, and he says the cat must be quarantined. They may need brain tissue to determine if he's mad." Her smile was ugly.

"Bad news, Mrs. Watts." Daniel stepped forward. "He escaped from my arms when I was trying to put him in the car. He was so upset. He's around the house somewhere. I tried to catch him, but he's terrified."

"Liar." Lucinda's blue eyes glittered. "I want that animal impounded."

"He's gone." Daniel held his ground. "We'll look for him, and if we do find him, we'll take him to a vet of our choice to make certain he's not ill."

"He was perfectly fine before we got here," Sarah tried to assure her. "I'm positive he isn't sick."

"Get out." Lucinda's voice was icy.

"Now, that's one order we'll very gladly obey," Daniel said. He started to pick up the pans and the plastic bags of pork chops.

"You misunderstood me. I said get out, and I meant now."

Sarah couldn't believe the fury in the woman's voice. She saw Uncle Vince shake his head at her, urging her to comply with Lucinda's order.

"Daniel, leave it," she said. She knew she'd get her gear back later. At the moment she wanted to escape with Familiar before they thought to go out and check the car.

"Right." Daniel eased the pots back onto the stove. With a deft gesture he maneuvered the pork chops into the folds of his coat. "We're out of here." He took Sarah's arm and hustled her out the door. "Don't look back," he warned.

"The pork chops," she moaned.

He patted the coat. "We always get our chop," he said. He pushed her toward the car and the outline of a small black cat who was sitting in the back window watching for them.

"Duck, Familiar," Daniel said as he put Sarah in the passenger seat and ran around to get in the driver's side. He didn't waste a backward glance as he started the motor and zoomed away from the beautiful house.

"C
INDY
,
WOULD YOU
just ask him to speak with me a moment?" Daniel felt the frustration level building to a steamy head. He looked at the door behind which Paul Gottard hid, and considered breaking it down.

"He won't see you," Cindy said. Her stony-faced secretarial training was about to break, though. "Daniel, he really can't see you now." She glanced at Sarah. "Not now."

"Let me speak to him."

"No. I can't. It would mean my job."

"Then he's in there, and I mean to see him."

"Don't do it," she warned. "I'll have to call security, and they'll arrest you. What good would that do? Assault charges won't look very good on your record."

"I don't give a damn about my record!" Daniel couldn't help shouting. "I've had a great record, up until now, and it obviously doesn't count. Why should I get concerned over a bad record? I need to talk with Gottard."

"He has someone else in there." Cindy whispered the words. "He really can't see you."

"Who?" Daniel demanded.

The stony face dropped back over her features. "Get out of here now, before I have to call someone, Daniel. You're in enough trouble without deliberately starting more." She gave Sarah, who was standing silently at the far corner of the room, a withering look. "Take my advice, Daniel, get her and get out of here before someone sees you."