Nanny (11 page)

chapter
12

S
ummer punched on the lights in the guest cottage. “I want to see exactly where you're installing the infrared sensors for the beach access.”

Gabe dropped the blueprints onto her desk. “Be my guest.”

Summer peered at the diagrams intently. “Along the main path?”

“For starters. More sensors will go near the garage. They're marked by the broken lines on the diagram.”

Summer peered some more, then dug into her briefcase. Muttering, she slid on a pair of glasses.

“Reading glasses?”

“One more word and you're toast, Morgan.”

Gabe sat down in an overstuffed leather chair and stretched out his long legs. “In that case, no comment from me.”

“Good.” Summer ran her fingers slowly over the diagram, as if feeling her way over possibilities and dangers. “This array should cover everything.”

Gabe held back as long as he could. “Aren't you a little young for reading glasses?”

Summer ignored him. “We need more surveillance cameras, one at the back porch and one along the path near the garage. The bushes make it hard to see anyone coming up from the road.”

“I already asked. Ms. O'Connor nixed the additional cameras. The senator is going to work on her, but for now she says they're too intrusive.” Gabe crossed his arms behind his head. “What gives with the glasses?”

“It's genetic.” Summer shoved a strand of hair behind her ear, frowning. “My dad had the same thing. Hit him hard when he was thirty. He hated it.” She looked off into space for a moment. “I was going to get the surgery, then this mission came up and everything got put on hold.” She toyed with her wrist. “Who is the team handling the upgrades?”

“They're reliable, don't worry.”

“It's my job to worry.” Summer rubbed her neck. “Are they civilians?”

“Yes and no.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means, the matter is taken care of. No more questions needed.”

She swung around, staring at him. “In case you forgot, I'm a federal agent. It's my job to ask questions.”

“Fine. You asked, and that's my answer.”

“So he's really hush-hush.” Summer nodded slowly. “In that case, it's fine with me. Just as long as he's good.”

“He's so good that you've never heard of him. And you never will.”

“Are you in the CIA? SWAT maybe?”

Gabe shrugged. “I'm a professional. That's all you need to know.”

“Not by half. What are you looking at?”

Gabe steepled his fingers. “You. I'm trying to figure you out.”

“Don't bother. I'm as dull and boring as they come, Morgan. I do the job and then I go home.”

Gabe watched the smooth curve of her neck when she lifted her hair. He saw the muscles tighten at her thigh when she leaned over the desk. No, she was wrong. He had a ticklish instinct that she was far from boring once you got beneath all that spit-polish and edgy nerve.

Not that he'd ever get there or see her in anything but an ugly, plain-Jane dark suit.

Irritated that he couldn't seem to stop imagining Sum-mer Mulvaney with her hair loose, her lips soft, dressed in something light and gauzy, Gabe stood up and checked his watch. “Time for a grounds check. I won't be comfortable until that new equipment is online. Right now a Russian tank battalion could probably get in here.”

Summer pulled off her glasses. “I'll go with you.”

Gabe opened his mouth to nix the idea, then stopped. She
was
assigned to Cara O'Connor and her family, and that made them partners.

Whether he liked it or not.

He pulled on a black nylon knapsack. “Let's get moving.” He looked at her feet and nodded. “Rubber soles. Good.”

“I know my job, Mr. Morgan.”

Gabe smiled blandly.
We'll see about that.

 

Audra's heart was pounding. She twisted hard, then gasped. “What are you
doing
here?” A small hand gripped her tightly, half-hidden in the bushes. “If Mom finds you outside, she'll kill us both.”

Sophy held Liberace against her chest, shivering. “I heard a noise. When I went to your room you were gone, so I checked the window.”

“I closed it,” Audra snapped.

Behind her Tracey snorted. “Busted.”

“The window wasn't completely closed, not quite. I saw the rope you used to raise and lower the ladder, too. It was still hidden in the tree branches. But I already knew something was wrong. And since I knew that Tracey sneaks out at night—”

“How do you know
that
?” Audra demanded.

“I just knew.”

Tracey sprawled on a pink chaise, laughing. “Good work, Sophy. You ought to be a spy. Want a Camel?”

“Shut up, Tracey.” Audra glared at her friend.

“
No.
I want to hear about Sophy and this stuff she knows. How does it work, Sophy?”

The younger girl chewed her lip. “I don't plan it, but it comes and goes. It's like the TV channels in a storm, you know? The picture can get wavy, but you can still see it.”

“Let's go, Sophy.” Audra was angry at her friend, but some part of her was still curious, unable to stop picturing exactly what Tracey and her mystery friend did when they sneaked outside at night. Was that abnormal? Audra wondered. Did you go to hell for having too much curiosity and too many bad thoughts?

“Chickens,” Tracey called as the girls crossed the porch.

“I don't like it when you smoke.” Sophy stroked Liberace's head. “I don't like Tracey very much, either. She's going to get in trouble someday. Besides, she's too old to be your friend.”

“She's only a year older than I am.”

“But she acts a lot older.”

“Why don't you like her?” Audra demanded.

Sophy shrugged. “Just because.”

“Did something happen?” Audra was seized by a flood of dark possibilities. “Did she do something to you?”

Sophy continued walking. “No, she just gives me the creeps. She doesn't like herself very much; you can see it in her eyes. One day I saw her talking to Uncle Tate, only she was acting odd.”

Even though he wasn't their uncle, Sophy called him that. Audra thought it was stupid, but it was better than Dad, which just didn't feel right. “Talking about what?”

“I couldn't hear. But she was laughing and touching his arm, and then he looked mad and he said something back to her and then her face got red. She walked away really fast.” Sophy looked up at her sister. “Uncle Tate just stared after her for a long time. He didn't look happy, either.”

Audra had a cold, sick feeling in her stomach. Maybe she wouldn't see Tracey anymore. Maybe that was best.

“Come on,” Sophy said impatiently. “It's late, but we can sneak down to the kitchen. Patrick left us some German chocolate cake.”

“I don't want any,” Audra said tensely. She couldn't stop thinking about Tracey and Senator Winslow. What if they were—

Without warning, Liberace wriggled out of Sophy's grip and shot along a low branch of the tree. Audra went after him while Sophy giggled.

Somewhere a clock chimed quietly in the depths of the night.

chapter
13

M
ist swirled up from the beach as Summer walked down the flagstone path to the pool. The perfume of roses was intense here, reminding her of early summer nights back in Philadelphia.

There was no sign of activity in the outbuildings, or down the path to the rocky beach. All the ground-floor windows of the house were closed and locked.

Summer wasn't surprised to see Gabe pull out night-vision glasses and sweep the area a complete 360 degrees. “Everything nailed down tight,” he said finally, stowing the glasses in his pack.

“In that case, I'm going inside. I want to recheck the windows in the kitchen and be sure the alarm is still set.”

Without a word, Gabe turned, cutting across the tennis courts.

“You're not asking why?” Summer said quietly.

“I never question thoroughness.”

Summer hid her surprise and rolled her shoulders, trying to work off some of her tension. “What time is it?”

“Almost one.” Gabe moved with powerful grace, his footsteps silent on the damp grass. “I'll take the next circuit. We can rotate.”

Summer raised an eyebrow. “You trust me to handle things?”

“You're the officer assigned. That means I have to trust you. It also means—” He turned suddenly, pulling her back against the corner of the garage as gravel skittered down the road. Car lights flickered through the mist, and Gabe's arm dropped to her waist, drawing her out of sight while the lights moved in a slow arc over the grass.

As the beams traced the wall only inches away from where they stood, Summer planned defensive scenarios in the event of gunfire from the car. At the same time she reached down, finding the handle of her service weapon.

If a door opened, she was ready to roll.

But no door opened. No footsteps crossed the gravel. The car moved slowly down the road, its lights fading back into the night. Summer felt the bushes twitch beside her and realized Gabe was gone. Releasing her handgun, she peered around the corner of the garage.

He emerged like a wall of shadow out of the fog, his expression grim. “I only got the last three letters on the plate, but I'll check it anyway. It could have been a local resident taking the wrong turn.”

“At one
A
.
M
.?”

“Not everyone's a criminal.” Gabe looked down, frowning. “Don't move.”

Summer swung her head, assessing threat scenarios. “Did you hear something? Why are you—” Her voice caught in a gasp of pain as something dug into her scalp.

“Organpipe cactus. I didn't see it until you backed into it.” Gabe leaned down, tugging gently to release her hair from the spines. “These things can be hell to get out.”

Summer stood awkwardly, her hair caught in a dozen places. “Just get them,” she said tensely.

“Slow is the only way. Otherwise they dig in deeper.”

“Forget about slow. Yank them out.” As she spoke, Summer twisted her head right and left, only to find her hair seized by dozens of new needles.

“Stop
moving.
” Gabe caught her hands, then clicked on a penlight with a red bulb and studied the damage. “Nice job, Mulvaney.”

“What?”

“Your hands are going to be a problem. And your hair—forget working your hair free. I may have to cut it.”

“Fine. It's just hair.”

Gabe produced a big army knife. As he leaned over her, Summer felt his warm breath on her cheek and the brush of his hard thighs. “Don't get twitchy on me or you may end up bald.”

She closed her eyes, stunned by the sharp awareness of his body pressed against hers. The knife moved, then tugged hard.

“Sorry if that hurt.”

“I'm—fine. Just get it done.” Summer tried to focus on anything but the rigid torso against her belly. Hair drifted onto her arm while he sliced down, strand by strand.

The silence of the night was suddenly far too intimate. “Can't you work faster?”

“No.” Another hunk of hair fell on her arm. “I can barely see, so I'm going by feel alone. I'm
trying
to spare some of your hair.”

“Forget about that and hurry. I want to go check the house.”

Gabe made an irritated sound as he located another cluster of cactus needles. More hair fell onto Summer's arm.

She shifted restlessly, and Gabe gripped her shoulder. “I told you not to move.”

“Fine, fine. I won't move. I won't even breathe, Attila.”

More hair rained down, and then Gabe cradled her chin. “Last one. Hold still, because this could be the worst.”

There was a sudden, sharp tug at her scalp. Muttering darkly, Gabe knifed through a tangle of hair and held it up gravely. “Cactus three, Summer zero.” He dropped the hair on the grass. “All done.”

When Summer turned her head, she was finally free, but her jacket was still stuck to the cactus. Impatiently, she shrugged off both sleeves and scowled when the jacket stayed right where it was, impaled on the sharp spines. Ragged pieces of hair hung above the jacket, making a ghostly doppelganger in the night. “I've got cactus spines everywhere.” Shaking her head, she started up the flagstone path to the back door. “But at least I'm free for my round.”

“You take the inside, I'll take the porch and roof.” Gabe's voice trailed away as he vanished into the darkness before she could speak.

Summer inspected the ground floor, then headed upstairs. All the bedroom doors were closed and there was no sign of activity. After checking that the common windows were locked, she reset the alarm and left via the back door.

Gabe was waiting for her on the porch. “Any problems inside?”

“All quiet.” Summer frowned. “Except for my skin, which is howling from those cactus thorns. I've got to get these things out before I go crazy.”

“There's an old trick. I can show you.”

I'll bet you know all the tricks,
Summer thought dourly.

At the steps to his guesthouse she turned and kept walking. “'Night, Morgan.”

“You don't want any help?”

“If I can't handle a few cactus spines, I might as well hand in my badge. Thanks for the offer, but I'll see you in the morning.”

 

She tried pulling them out with tweezers. She tried digging them out with a needle. Both ways were slow, painful, and largely ineffective.

The final blow came when she brushed back a strand of hair—and ended up with tiny cactus spines scattered painfully across her face.

Thirty seconds later she was hammering on Gabe's door with her elbow.

He took one look at her and stepped aside. If the man laughed, she was going to deck him.

“You were right; I was wrong,” she muttered.

“Not a problem. Sit in the chair by the desk.” Gabe vanished into the bathroom and emerged with a travel kit. He bent beside her and angled the gooseneck lamp, then shook his head. “You've got them everywhere. They must hurt like hell.” His hands were gentle as he tilted her face back. “Close your eyes and relax.”

Relax?

Summer took a deep breath, felt the light turn, warm on her face. Fingers brushed her brow.

“Better start with your hands.” Gently, Gabe cupped her palm. “This shouldn't be too bad. Only a dozen here.” Wielding a set of surgical tweezers, he worked methodically across her palm, pulling out spines of all sizes. When he was done, he cut a piece of electrical tape and pulled out the rest. “The tape's the old Arizona secret. Let's see your other hand.”

As he spoke, Summer felt him wedge her body between his thighs. The man was amazingly strong, with defined muscles that made her just a little giddy. To make matters worse, when she looked up, his face was only inches away as he tackled an especially large spine.

Her hip bumped his groin. When she tried to turn away, she bumped him again.

His lips curved slightly. “If you're trying to distract me, you're succeeding.”

Summer took a slow breath, keenly aware of his body holding her. “I'm not trying.”

“You're still succeeding.”

She didn't know what to say. The strange thing was that men's bodies didn't usually excite her. Usually intelligence and a sense of humor caught her attention first.

But very few men had bodies like Gabe's. He was dressed in well-worn navy sweatpants and no shirt, and Summer could feel every sculpted muscle like a blast of heat.

Which was absolutely
pathetic.

She cleared her throat. “Aren't you done yet?”

“Three more.” He bracketed her body with his locked thighs. “These two along your neck may hurt.”

Not as much as seeing his abs only inches away.

“Hey.”
Summer winced as he pulled a nasty black spine free. “How come you know so much about these things?”

Gabe didn't look up, angling the light down for a better view as he extracted another long barb. “I was born in Arizona. My parents moved to Wyoming when I was seven.”

“When did you meet the senator? He told us that he'd known your family forever.”

Gabe looked up and flashed a smile. “He's got forty acres in Wyoming, right across the valley from the ranch where I grew up. He used to spend all his free time there. Of course, now he has no more free time left.”

Summer tried to stop the odd, dizzy sensation of bubbles climbing up her throat. She found herself staring at Gabe's callused hands, which was even worse, because she realized how gentle he could be, calluses and all. “It's good that he's taking Cara and the girls away to the ranch for a few days. They could all use some R and R. So it's pretty nice, this valley of yours?”

“Spring-fed lake. Mountains and white-water rafting. You can ride for four days and not see a single road.”

“Ride an ATV?”

Gabe gave an exasperated laugh. “A horse, woman. The
only
way to travel in the backcountry.”

“Somehow I can't imagine a techno guy like you on top of a horse.”

“Some things are best done the old-fashioned way. From a saddle, you can feel the wind and smell the sap rise in the pine trees.”

“You miss it, don't you?”

Gabe didn't answer.

Summer felt a burning pain at the base of her thumb. “Ow.”

Gabe held up his tweezers, gripping a long, barbed needle. “Got it.”

“No wonder it hurt.”

When she started to stand up, Gabe stopped her. “Let me clean you up.” He opened an antiseptic wipe, dabbing it over her hands and neck.

“I, uh, appreciate it.” Summer nudged him aside and stood up awkwardly. “Your help, I mean.”

Gabe stood, too, cupping her chin. “Did you rub your face?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“You've got a needle on your lip.” Frowning, he ran his hand along her cheek. “Give me a second.”

Summer was intensely aware of every inch of his body as he bent closer. “Get it,” she rasped.

“Don't move.”

She closed her eyes as his finger skimmed the curve of her lower lip. Their thighs bumped and Summer's heart began to pound. “Can't you hurry?”

She heard his breath still. There was a quick, sharp prick at her lip.

Gabe cursed. “It's bleeding. Your lip must be—” He cleared his throat. “Sensitive. At your mouth, I mean.” He leaned back. “Here's a swab. Probably you can handle that part yourself.” His voice sounded strained.

Summer grabbed the square of white cotton and jammed it against her mouth, then gasped in pain.

“Watch it.” Gabe pulled the cotton free and brushed her lip. “You always do things the hard way, don't you?”

“Not that I'm aware of.”

“And you don't trust people very much, either.”

“That's ridiculous,” Summer said stiffly.

“Then why are your hands locked into fists right now?”

“I don't—” When Summer looked down, she was stunned to see that her hands were raised, fisted against his chest. She looked away. “Okay, so maybe I do have a few trust issues.”

“Anything you want to discuss?” he asked quietly.

Summer felt more zinging sensations in her chest. She realized his hand wasn't quite steady at her mouth, and something shimmered to life, vague and powerful, drawing her closer.

Abruptly, Gabe stood up and tossed the strip of cotton into the garbage. “You'd better beat it. You've got security rounds in fifty-three minutes.”

Summer ran her tongue across her lip, which still stung. To her irritation, the fuzzy, disoriented feeling was getting worse. “Thanks.” Her gaze slid to his rumpled bed, where two pillows were pulled together in a mound, the blanket folded back in a crooked line.

She could imagine him sleeping there, one arm behind his head and the covers half-off. She wondered what he would be wearing beneath that single thin sheet.

Serious mental aberration.

She turned stiffly, certain that her cheeks were bright red.

“Summer?”

She didn't look around. “Yes?”

“Call me if you need anything tonight.”

Only a fool would have found a double meaning in those words. “I'll be fine.”

Summer closed the door stiffly. If there was one thing she had learned well, it was that relying on other people was a sure prescription for pain, and she had already had enough of that in her life.