chapter 14
Audra clung to Liberace, crawling along a high branch. She could see the wall, see her own window.
Sweat crept down her neck. She was grounded now, thanks to her tricks on the new nanny. But if she were caught tonight, she’d be grounded for the rest of her life.
If I don’t get caught, she swore, I’ll never sneak out again. Never ever.
She had already lowered the ladder via her rope, and as she crept along the branch she noticed a light in the new nanny’s guesthouse. Gabe was still up, too, judging by the lights in his rooms.
What if they saw her?
Seconds later the window was open, and she helped Sophy cross the sill. After that, she set Liberace down, raised the ladder and stowed it away, then tiptoed across the floor, undressed quickly, and slid into bed.
Audra’s heart continued to pound madly, but as minutes passed without discovery, she gradually began to slip into sleep.
She was dreaming about surfing when a hand circled her arm.
Sophy was standing near her bed, looking frightened. A big stuffed crocodile stuck out beneath her arm.
“What?”
“I can’t sleep. I had bad dreams again.”
Audra sighed and sat up. “What is it this time, the big orange worms or the green talking cats?”
Sophy stood very still. “This time it was a man. He was standing at the foot of my bed, watching me.” Sophy clutched her crocodile tighter. “Just watching.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Audra pulled back her covers. “Dreams don’t mean anything, silly. Come on, let’s go to sleep.”
“But he was ugly.” Sophy slid into the bed, shivering as Audra pulled the covers back up. “And this dream was different. Important, like a warning.” She lay tensely, staring through the window at the mist. “Something’s going to happen, Auddie. I know it.”
“Go to sleep,” Audra said impatiently. “Stuff like that doesn’t mean anything.”
But Audra lay awake for a long time, watching shadows move against the lawn. Sophy’s dreams weren’t like other people’s dreams. Her sister’s dreams—the ones she called important—had a bad habit of coming true.
With a curse, Gabe shoved back his blanket and checked his watch. Summer should be finishing her second security tour shortly, and then it would be his turn.
She was one hell of a woman, Gabe thought grimly. Spit-shined and buttoned-down, hungry for action and a chance to prove herself.
All job, she had told him. But there had been vulnerability in her face, just for a second, when he’d been working that damned cactus needle out of her lip. Gabe had found himself wanting to explore her lips slowly and see what it took to coax out a sigh of pleasure.
He shook his head, fully aware that Summer Mulvaney was off-limits.
Buck naked, he trotted to the shower and swung the elegant control bar until frigid water filled the air. He barely noticed the pain in his right knee or the stiffness in his leg. The scars from his last round of surgery were finally starting to fade, but he was still far from his full fighting capacity. With luck and some serious sweat, he’d be at eighty percent by the time this mission was done.
After a quick shower, Gabe cut the water and did a slow knee bend. Ligaments tightened and muscle burned, but he savored the pain like an old friend. At one time he had despaired of recovering his mobility, and a SEAL with limited capacity was bound for a desk assignment or training responsibilities. Both were crucial tasks, but not ones that Gabe had joined the Navy to carry out, and the sooner he regained his range of motion and full strength, the sooner he’d be reassigned to the dangerous work he did best.
Grabbing a towel, he dried quickly and dressed in black shorts. His knee burned as he pulled out a locked metal case, keyed the code, and located three documents. After studying two maps thoroughly, he unrolled a set of blueprints to the clinic in Los Reyes where Cara O’Connor had been a patient in 1986.
The blueprints were dated 1983.
He punched in a number on his encrypted cell phone and waited for the recorded message to click in.
“Yeah, this is Morgan,” he said. “I need a large pepperoni with double cheese, so get your butt in gear and start cooking.”
He glanced at the display and smiled when his phone rang five seconds later. “You’re late, Teague. I could be a dead man in five. What kept you—a hot date with a smoldering brunette?”
At the other end of the line, Ishmael Teague flipped off the microwave communication prototype he’d been testing and said one gruff phrase in answer.
Gabe barked with laughter. “Same to you, pal. I’d say in spades, but you’d probably kick me around the block.”
“Damned straight. And it only took me three seconds to call back.” Izzy hesitated. “How’s your leg?”
“Top-notch, compadre. No pain anywhere.” The lie flowed easily, but neither man believed it for a second. “I need an update on the clinic blueprints. I don’t want any surprises down in Mexico, so I need to know all renovations or structural changes that have been completed. And while you’re doing that hacker-magic of yours, see if you can scout out the placement of any security cameras and alarm systems. I should be able to spot most of them, but I’m taking nothing for granted.”
Izzy chuckled. “You don’t want to be a guest of the Mexican Federales for the next ten years?”
“Sorry, I’ve got better plans. As soon as I wrap up this mission for Senator Winslow, I’ve got two weeks’ leave and I’m chartering a boat in Tortola. Are you up for some sun, sangria, and a few adventurous ladies in search of a clothing-optional escape?”
“Name the place and the time. Just get that leg of yours in shape first,” Izzy said quietly. “And you’ll have your blueprints in an hour or so.”
“Show-off.” Still smiling, Gabe hung up. Ishmael Teague was a genius at finding things most people considered invisible. If any plans were available, he would find them.
Focusing, Gabe sank into another deep knee bend. Remaining crouched, he ticked off the seconds on his watch.
The burn grew to an angry throb as he approached two minutes, but Gabe gutted out the pain, blocking the memories of the high-altitude, low-opening jump that had gone wrong months before, landing him on a rocky slope rather than a deepwater lagoon off the coast of Australia. He’d nearly bought it on that jump, thanks to an inexperienced pilot.
But Gabe Morgan was an expert at knowing his own limits. He took everything right to the edge, and was pale and sweating when he extended his bad leg into a lunge position.
Experience had taught him that pain could be your friend if you let it, and his pain was going to get him strong again, back into the action where he belonged. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and kept right on counting.
“Cara?”
Pacing the room, Cara cradled her phone. She was too distracted to read and too worried to sleep. “I’m still here, Tate.”
“Are the girls asleep?”
“For an hour.” Cara stopped at a big glass table covered with photographs. She smiled at the picture of Audra tying her first fishing lure and Sophy riding her first bike. Memories washed over her in waves as she realized how soon her precious girls would be grown up, waving her good-bye.
“Honey?”
“Sorry, Tate. I’ve just been thinking that I may take some time off. The girls need me now and I’m always missing some event or other. San Francisco can get along without me for a few years.”
“You love your job, Cara. It’s not something you can walk back into easily.”
“I know that.” She cradled a photo of Audra and Sophy riding horses on Tate’s ranch in Wyoming. “But it’s a possibility.”
“You know I want you and the girls with me. But if I run, there will be impossible hours, endless stress, and more impossible hours.”
Cara closed her eyes tightly. “You have to run, Tate. You’ll be our best president.”
“You and my mother keep telling me that, but I’m not so sure.” Tate sighed. “I should probably go. I have a six A.M. conference call.”
“Get some rest.” Cara’s voice was husky. “Think of me, wrapped around you.”
“If I think of that, I’ll never sleep. By the way, I called Amanda and apologized abjectly for cutting her off. She suggests that you take the girls up to the ranch for a few days. I didn’t tell her that we’ll be there this weekend.”
Cara smiled. Amanda Winslow’s charm was as legendary as her stubbornness. No mother had done more to further her son’s career or welcome a new woman into his life. “I’ll call her tomorrow and say we’ll set a day. The girls will love seeing her.” Cara smiled. “Did she ask you about my dress again?”
“Only a thousand times.” Tate’s voice fell. “Forget about the dress and think about how much I love you. I wish I didn’t have to wait for breakfast to see you, so I’m going to turn off the light and think about when we finally stop this charade and sleep in the same bed.”
The line went dead, and Cara put down the phone, listening to the silence of the house. For some reason the stillness left her uneasy, filled with fears too vague for names.
Instead of sleeping, she decided to check on Audra and Sophy, then make sure that all the doors and windows were closed. FBI agents were trained, tough professionals, but no one could be as paranoid as a mother.