Nanny (14 page)

“Nice car.” Summer stared at the big silver Mercedes parked in the driveway. “It seems to me that Mrs. Winslow is calling the shots, not Cara.”

“Mrs. Winslow is picky about things being done just right, but Cara doesn't agree to anything she doesn't want. It's fun to watch two pros maneuver for territory, believe me.” Gabe turned to study the deserted path down to the beach. “You'll call Cara? She'll want to know about this.”

“Next thing I do.”

“I'll notify the senator.” When Gabe turned, his eyes were hard. “Watch your back,” he said quietly. “Otherwise—”

Izzy strode around the garage, his eyes hard. “We've got a problem,” he said quietly.

They followed him into the shadows of the garage. The rear door of Cara's SUV was open.

“Take a look.” Izzy turned on a penlight, casting a beam of light over the rear seat, and Summer felt bile fill her throat. A white rat was pinned to the leather, a large hunting knife planted through its head.

chapter
17

S
o they got tired of the threatening phone calls,” Summer said tightly.

 “Looks that way.” Gabe glanced around the garage. “We need to preserve this somehow.”

Izzy handed Gabe a piece of paper. “You hold him and I'll bag him.”

“My God.” In their concentration, they hadn't heard Patrick come into the garage. He was staring at the dead rat, a bunch of asparagus dangling from his flour-covered fingers. “Is that . . . thing a rat?”

Summer nodded. “Someone seems to be playing a crude joke here. Do you have any idea who would do this?”

“I—” The chef swallowed hard, looking as if he had to throw up. “Maybe Tracey from down the street? No, I don't think she and Audra would stoop to something like this.”

“Patrick, do you have those white asparagus spears for me?” Amanda Winslow walked into the garage, her pink Chanel suit dusted by a thin streak of flour. “The pastry shells are almost ready and . . .” Her voice trailed away when she realized Patrick wasn't alone.

Coolly, Gabe stepped in front of the SUV, but it was too late.

Tate's mother stared into the car. “Is something wrong? What's that thing on the backseat?” She frowned, then took a jerky step backward. “It's—it's dead.” She put one hand on the car, staring wide-eyed at the rat. “What in heaven's name is going on here?”

“Mrs. Winslow,” Summer said quietly, “why don't we go inside? I'll make you some tea?”

“I don't want
tea.
I want to know why that—that dead
thing
is on the seat of Cara's car. It's revolting.”

She tried to move closer, but Gabe blocked her. He turned and slid the cold body into a plastic bag.

“Keep it away from me. I have to call Cara.” She dug in her pocket with shaky fingers and flipped open a tiny cell phone. “I think I'm going to be sick. . . .” she whispered.

 

Imelda and Summer handled Tate's mother while Gabe cleaned the seat and searched for any additional evidence or prints. Meanwhile, Izzy had faded away, taking the dead rat with him for a preliminary analysis.

In the afternoon sunlight, Amanda Winslow looked old and frightened. “I want Tate,” she said in a shaky voice. “I want someone to tell me what's happening here.”

“It is a very bad thing to see.” Imelda patted her arm. “But it is like Ms. Summer says, a joke only. Drink some more tea, please.”

The housekeeper looked frightened, too, despite her brave words, and Summer was relieved when the senator called back. After a few minutes she slipped away to pick up the girls, leaving Tate's mother to the housekeeper's care.

She made the drive with only minutes to spare. As the class bell rang, students spilled out into the hallway and down the front steps into the sunlight.

Laughter and color, Summer thought. So free, so California. She realized she was a little envious.

She found Sophy and then they went in search of Audra, who was outside her locker on the third floor, arguing with Tracey. When the two teenagers saw Summer, their faces turned stony.

Audra slammed her locker shut. “Let's go.”

“Can I, uh, have another ride?” Tracey picked at a hangnail. “My mom's gone today.” She looked up at Summer, her face tense. “Okay?”

“Of course, Tracey. It's no problem. You might need to move Liberace's cage into the back. Maybe Audra can—”

Tracey ignored Audra. “That's cool. I'm just going to the Java Jungle downtown. I'm meeting . . . some friends.”

“You're sure?” Summer frowned. “Won't your mother be expecting you at home?”

The girl gave a snort. “Like—she is so
not
expecting me. I'll be fine, Ms. Mulvaney. Don't worry.” She didn't look at Audra as she bent over to tug Sophy's pigtail. “Cool Hello Kitty purse. I've got one in silver and everyone always, like, tries to steal it from me.”

Sophy looked worried. “They do?”

“Just because they're morons. Don't worry, no one will take yours.” Tracey's face turned wistful for a moment. “You're lucky that way. You've got good friends. That's really cool.” Then with a final glare at Audra, she started down the stairs.

 

Two miles from school something small and furry shot across Summer's lap.

“I thought you left Liberace in his cage,” Summer said.

Sophy struggled to reach the ferret, which
chirr
ed loudly, climbing up Summer's arm. “I had him zipped in my backpack, Ms. M. He was okay until you turned that last corner.”

“Sophy, I need to drive. Liberace isn't helping me.”

“Sorry.” Sophy produced a piece of smashed banana, but the ferret didn't budge. Two pieces of raisin, a chocolate chip, and half a carrot later, the ferret was still perched on Summer's shoulder.

She eased into a slower lane, scanning the traffic for a break, so she could pull off. She saw the car then, a dusty brown Honda hanging back, one lane over. Summer had seen the same car outside the school this morning when she'd dropped off the girls. “Anyone know someone who drives a brown Honda?”

“Not me,” Audra said impatiently.

“I don't think so,” Tracey said, after thinking for a few moments. “Why?”

“What's a Honda look like?” Sophy asked.

“It doesn't matter. I thought someone waved at us,” Summer lied coolly. She tried to ignore the ferret nuzzling her cheek. “I guess I was wrong.”

“There's the Java Jungle, right at the next corner.” Tracey gathered her things quickly. “You can drop me in front. Thanks a lot.” Tracey jumped out and looked at Audra tensely. “See you.”

“Are you sure she's allowed to go off alone after school?”

“Come on, she's not a kid.” Audra sat tensely, not looking at her friend. “She knows what she's doing.”

Summer hesitated, and a car honked behind her, waiting for her parking spot. Behind that car, other cars began to honk. “Sophy, can you please put Liberace back in his cage?”

“I'm trying. Come here, Liberace.” Sophy made a low clicking noise, holding out another piece of smashed banana. “Be good and come to Aunt Sophy.”

“Oh, that's so stupid. Talking won't get him.” Audra leaned forward, grabbing for the ferret, which shot to the floor, wedging its body in the narrow storage space beneath Sophy's seat.

A dozen cars were honking now. When Summer looked back, the dusty Honda was gone.

“If he moves, grab him.” Summer eased out into traffic, looking for a quieter spot for a final showdown with Sophy's impossible pet.

The realization hit her suddenly. Liberace was white. The dead rat in the SUV's backseat had been white.

The message was that Liberace would be next.

 

“That was so cool, Ms. M.” Sophy skipped over the driveway, carrying Liberace, who was now curled up in his cage surrounded by his favorite balls of aluminum foil. “You really
are
fast. For an adult, I mean.”

Summer hid a smile. “So are you. Once I pulled Liberace out of the cup holder for the second time, you hustled him right into his cage.” She raised one hand in a high five, and the two slapped loudly. “Nice reflexes.”

Giggling, Sophy ran over to Gabe, who was carrying a flat of petunias up the path from the garage. “We almost had an accident on the way home from school, but Ms. M did this really cool driving thing, in and out of traffic, just like on
Top Cops
. Then we grabbed Liberace just in time, because this huge truck was changing lanes and he almost hit us.”

Gabe looked at Summer, one eyebrow raised. “Almost?”

“We're fine.” Summer frowned at Audra. “Patrick said to tell you he was making caprese salad and some kind of bread with white truffle oil for lunch.”

“I'm not hungry.” Audra stalked toward the house, and Sophy followed, deep in a rambling conversation with Liberace, who appeared to be asleep.

Sophy stopped at the porch. “Don't forget your suit, Ms. M. It will be cool to swim.”

Gabe put down his flat of flowers. “Busy morning?”

“Death by escaped ferret, barely averted. Then I was nearly eyeballed to death by a sullen teenager.” Summer sighed as she stared at Audra's retreating back. “Make that two sullen teenagers.”

“Two?”

“We gave Audra's friend Tracey a ride. I have come to believe that mothers and nannies deserve hazardous duty pay.” Summer rubbed her shoulder, which she'd banged against the door when she lunged for Sophy's pet. “Remind me not to travel anywhere with a ferret ever again.”

“Liberace's a handful. So is Audra.” Gabe's voice hardened. “What about the accident with the truck?”

“Sophy exaggerated. It was just a quick lane change. But I think there may have been a brown Honda following us back from school.”

“Plate number?”

“First letters TR. I couldn't see the rest. I was more concerned with the ferret crawling up my shoulder and keeping the car on the road,” Summer said tightly. “I'll be watching from now on.” She studied the back lawn. “Everything finished here?”

“All complete. Izzy had to take care of something in town, but he'll be back to give you a tour. What did Sophy mean about the suit?”

Summer ignored the sudden pressure at her chest. “She wants me to go swim with her. After that shot this morning, I don't want them exposed out here.”

“I agree. Did you tell Cara what happened?”

Summer rubbed her arm slowly. “She went into full-blown mother mode. She's terrified for her kids. She said the sooner they leave for Wyoming, the better.”

“Senator Winslow wanted to send in a SWAT team. Under the circumstances, not a helpful move.” Gabe leaned against the side of the garage. “You don't swim?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Why not?”

“None of your business,” Summer said evenly. “I have to go. The girls need to eat, then pack.”

 

Audra barely touched her lunch, and Sophy cut her focaccia into long, narrow strips, then ate each one slowly. As the rich, earthy mix of flavors rolled over her tongue, Summer decided that Patrick Flanagan was probably a genius.

When she complimented the chef, he beamed, sliding more handmade mozzarella onto her plate. “I consider it a work in progress. I'm always trying different types of basil and new olive-oil varieties. Experimenting is half the fun.” He looked anxiously at Audra. “You don't like the salad, Audra? Caprese used to be your favorite.”

“Uh, it's—great, Patrick. I'm just full.”

Full from what? Summer wondered. The girl had consumed two bites of oatmeal and half a glass of water for breakfast.

Patrick hovered beside the table. “No, you're right. I shouldn't have used that new basil. And the tomatoes that came today were crushingly bad.” Muttering anxiously, he vanished into the kitchen.

“What's wrong, Audra?” Sophy frowned at her sister. “Do you want some of my bread?”

“No.”

“Is your stomach upset again?”

“No,” Audra snapped.

“Are you sure? Mom said to call her right away if—”

“My stomach is fine, okay?” As if to prove it, Audra grabbed the last piece of bread from Sophy's plate and shoved it into her mouth. “See. Are you satisfied?” she said around bites.

“Well, that's what Mom told me.” Sophy sat in a tight ball, small and defensive beneath the sunny window.

“Audra, if you're sick, I can call your mother or take you to the doctor. You can tell me if anything's wrong.”

“Nothing's
wrong.
” Glaring at Summer, Audra shot to her feet. “I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I'm just not hungry, okay?” She took an angry breath, then flounced out of the room.

Summer stared after her. “Has she had this stomach problem before?”

“Once or twice.” Sophy toyed with a piece of tomato. “Mom got really scared, and our doctor did a whole bunch of tests, but there was nothing wrong.”

“Maybe I should call your mother.”

Sophy's eyes widened. “Audra will get really mad if you do that.”

All the more reason to call. Summer had heard that more and more teenagers were developing ulcers from stress. Maybe Audra was one of them.

“She gets really angry if you ask her how she feels.” Sophy brightened. “But maybe if she's okay, she'll come swimming with us. Even though we're grounded, we can still swim, right? See, I'm already dressed.” She flipped up the edge of her sundress, revealing a Hello Kitty swimsuit. “Can I go sit by the pool?”

“Not yet.”

“But Gabe is out there.”

“Gabe is busy, honey. Why don't you help Patrick for a few minutes until I come back?”

Sophy studied Summer's navy pantsuit. “What about
your
suit? You'd look cool in a bikini. You know, one of the little knitted ones like Tracey's mom wears.” She tilted her head. “Tracey says her mom
ought
to look great, after all the money she's spent on plastic surgery. Have
you
had plastic surgery, Ms. M?”

“Afraid not. All body parts here came with the original unit.”

Sophy nodded, looking resigned. “Me, too. Someday I want to get my feet done.”

“Your feet?”

“Melanie Jamieson says my toes are too big.” Sophy sniffed. “Melanie is a creep, but she's right. And my big toe is crooked.”

“Crooked is cute,” Summer said. On impulse, she bent and kissed the top of Sophy's head. “It makes you an original. Don't ever let anyone ever talk you into changing.”

“Okay,” Sophy said simply, all thoughts of body defects forgotten as Patrick emerged from the kitchen carrying a three-tier chocolate cake crowned by white-chocolate roses.