Nanny

chapter 8

6:15 P.M.

Neither Sophy nor Audra would eat. They wanted to wait for their mother, who was due in twenty minutes. Their rooms were clean, their homework done, their pet ferret fed. Now they sat uncomfortably in the big den that faced the backyard, while the clock ticked loudly.

Sophy drummed on the pine coffee table. “Let’s play dominoes.”

“Dominoes are for dorks.” Audra gave a tight laugh and picked impatiently at a nail. “Forget it.”

“How about Monopoly?”

“I’m going for a walk until Mom gets here.” Audra swept up her red jacket.

“I’ll come, too.” Sophy shot to her feet. “You can come with us, Ms. Mulvaney.”

Audra rolled her eyes as she shouldered open the door and hammered across the porch. “Bring the whole world, why don’t you?”

Sophy skipped behind her sister. “Where are we going?”

“Into town.”

“There won’t be time for that,” Summer said calmly, catching the door before it banged shut.

Muttering, Audra crossed the grass, heading toward the driveway, but Sophy stopped at the edge of the porch. “I don’t want to go to town. I want to play baseball.” She picked up a bat from an old wicker chair. “Please, Ms. Mulvaney. Audra never wants to play anymore, but she used to be the best hitter around.”

“I still am,” Audra snapped.

“Really? Why don’t you show me?” Summer waited, hands on her hips. “Unless you’d prefer to explain why you set up that little surprise out in the gardening shed.”

Audra stared back, stiff and defiant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sophy shuffled her feet. “You do know, Audra. You told me we had to teach her a lesson.”

“Be quiet, Sophy.” Audra kicked a pebble with her toe. “It was a mistake, okay? And I don’t bat anymore. That’s dumb kid stuff.”

“I guess you’ve forgotten how,” Summer said casually. It was primitive reverse psychology, but she was ready to try anything to keep the surly teenager from leaving the grounds.

Too bad handcuffing her to the front door was out of the question.

“I can still hit,” Audra snapped. “And I happen to recognize reverse psychology when I hear it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you play?”

“Not much. I think we should have our walk near the house, then go back inside to wait for your mother.”

“You don’t play?” Audra tossed the ball up and down, studying Summer. “Why not try a few? Toss her the bat, Sophy. I’ll pitch.”

“All right.” Oblivious to the undercurrents, Sophy raced toward Summer, bat in hand as the sun sank crimson into the ocean behind them. “We used to play ball for hours. It was so cool.”

It had been fifteen years since Summer had held a bat, but some things you never forgot. The wood was smooth beneath her hands, and the curved end fit snuggly against her fingers. The air was clean, the wind still, a perfect time to feel the jolt of wood on leather.

Audra fired off the first pitch before Summer was in position, snickering when the swing caught dead air.

“She’s a really good pitcher, too,” Sophy whispered as she bent down to catch. “Watch out for her insiders.”

Another pitch fired through the slanting copper sunlight. Summer tipped it and the ball flew right into Audra’s glove.

“Throw another one,” Sophy ordered. “She wasn’t ready.”

“Okay, fine.” Audra leaned back. “Try this one on for size.” A pitch fired past Summer’s chest, but this one met the driving force of the bat and sailed high, a dark circle as it flew into the sunlight, over the redwood gazebo, over the pool and the lush tea roses, finally landing in a huge bougainvillaea.

“Hell!”

The plant shook wildly. Angry muttering drifted in the quiet air.

Summer’s body tensed. “Sophy, stay behind me.”

“But why—”

“Audra, come here, please.”

“Would you look at that?” Grinning, the teenager watched the leaves shake. “You beaned him but good.”

“Audra, now.”

“What’s wrong?” She gazed back at Summer, her face tight with defiance.

“Please come over here.” As she spoke, Summer gripped the bat and walked over the cool grass, putting her body between the girls and the unknown figure in the plants at the edge of the lawn.

A head appeared, silhouetted against the setting sun. Dark hair, broad shoulders, black shirt.

“Damned thorns.” Gabe Morgan struggled out of the bougainvillaeas, rubbing his shoulders. Flower petals covered his hair and shoulders like red snow. “How about some warning next time?”

Summer didn’t move. Had he been out here watching them?

Sophy started to run forward, but Summer caught her hand, holding her still. “What were you doing in the bushes, Mr. Morgan?”

Sophy moved restlessly from foot to foot. “But it’s just Gabe. He works here.”

Summer kept her body in front of the girls, bat held loosely at her side. “I’d like to hear your answer, Mr. Morgan.”

“Hell, I’m bleeding here and the woman wants a job description.” Metal rattled as the gardener hauled a roll of electrical wire out from beneath the bougainvillaeas. “For your information, I was replacing the lights back there. This whole row blew out last night and I just got around to fixing them. After this, I’ve got new path lights to install.” He balanced a toolbox on one hip, looking sweaty, cranky, and dangerous. “In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a wedding reception being planned, along with three parties here, two of them to be held outdoors at night.” He waved a broken piece of wire in the air. “No lights, no party.”

Sophy pulled free and charged over the grass. “She didn’t mean to hit you, Gabe. We didn’t even know you were there, did we, Ms. Mulvaney?” She peered up at his arm. “Is it bleeding?”

“Nah. Just hurts like—” He cleared his throat. “The dickens. You hit that one out of the park, Audra?”

“She did.” There was unwilling respect in the teenager’s voice. “No one ever gets a hit off my insiders, either.”

“Looks like your new nanny did.” Gabe studied the two girls. “Kinda late for baseball practice. Aren’t you two supposed to be eating dinner?”

“We’re waiting for Mom,” Sophy said cheerfully. “Audra wanted to walk to town, only Ms. Mulvaney told her no on account of—well, I don’t exactly remember why. But then I saw the bat and said we ought to play, then Audra threw one of her low insiders and Ms. Mulvaney still smashed the living bejeezus out of it.”

Gabe’s lips twitched. “The what?”

“The bejeezus. Tiffany Hammersmith says that all the time.”

“Well, I don’t think you should, honey.”

“Oh.” Sophy’s eyes widened. “Is it rude?”

“Afraid so.”

The little girl flushed. “Tiffany says a lot of rude words. She wears black thong underwear, too.”

Gabe’s lips twitched again. “Is that a fact? And Tiffany is what, nine?”

“Oh, no. She’ll be eleven next month.”

“Skirting middle age, in fact,” Gabe murmured.

Summer felt her mouth slipping into a smile. With hard effort she summoned up a frown. “How long have you been out here, Mr. Morgan? Fixing the lights,” she added dryly.

“About forty minutes, ma’am. I had to make a few calls to plant suppliers, then I grabbed a quick meal in the kitchen. Have you met Patrick yet?”

Summer shook her head.

“The boy makes a mean sourdough bruschetta. Compliment his dough and he’s yours for life.”

Something was wrong here, but for all her effort Summer couldn’t put her finger on it. She looked at the girls. “I think we should go inside now.” The sun was gone and the air was purple with the first hint of twilight. “You’re shivering, Sophy.”

“I’m not cold. It’s not that.” The girl looked back across the broad lawn. “For a moment I almost felt like . . .” She jammed her hands in her pockets. “Never mind.”

Gabe knelt before her. “What is it, honey?”

She shrugged fragile shoulders. “Nothing, really. I guess Ms. Mulvaney is right. We should probably go in.”

Gabe gave the girl a strange look. “I’ll go with you and drop these lights off.” As they walked back to the house, the girls in front, he fell into step beside Summer. “Did you get a confession out of them yet?”

“She admits nothing, but Sophy says Audra had it in for me. No surprises there,” she added quietly. “I’ll have to discuss it with their mother.”

Gabe rubbed his neck. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened earlier this afternoon in the shower.”

“I doubt it. In fact, I could swear you were enjoying yourself, Mr. Morgan.”

“Call me Gabe. And you can put down the bat now. I’m trying to apologize here, not attack you.”

Summer realized the bat was still hanging at her side. As she looked at Gabe, some of her tension faded. “How I feel about what happened doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” His voice fell. “I had some . . . disagreement with Susanne.”

“The girls’ old nanny? That explains why you were stark naked in my shower?”

“No, it doesn’t. Audra and Sophy told me the new nanny wasn’t arriving until much later.” Gabe shrugged broad shoulders that rippled beneath his well-worn tee shirt. “You weren’t supposed to be in the guesthouse when I was there.”

“Assuming that I bought your story—which I don’t—I still don’t see why they would pull a trick like that.”

“They didn’t want their nanny to leave. Susanne taught them all the cool new dances, shared her nail polish, gave them haircuts. Girl stuff like that.”

Summer frowned. She wouldn’t be offering any of those skills, not in this lifetime. They simply weren’t in her repertoire. Kickboxing, definitely. Firearms safety, absolutely. But French braids and cool new nail polish?

No way. And she wasn’t going to ask Gabe for details about his problems with Susanne.

“Forget about the old nanny. You seem to have won the girls over already—Sophy, at least.”

“Sophy could make friends with Godzilla,” Summer muttered. “But Audra hates me.”

“Audra hates everyone, including herself. It’s teenage angst.”

“Maybe.” One thing still bothered Summer. “Why weren’t you surprised to see someone waiting outside when you came out of the shower?”

They were almost at the house now. The sky had faded to a rich molten purple. For long moments Gabe didn’t answer, his eyes on the girls. “I had my reasons.”

“Because you were expecting someone to be waiting,” Summer mused. “Is that it?”

“Let’s just say that Susanne had a way of turning up unannounced wherever I was.” His eyes narrowed. “In my room. In my shower. Sometimes in my bed.”

Summer frowned. “So you two were sleeping together.”

“That’s not what I said. Susanne was on the mend from a broken relationship and looking for comfort and reassurance from a man—any man. I was within easy reach, so she chose me.”

“Let me get this straight. She wanted sex, but you, being pure and noble of heart, turned her down?”

Gabe’s voice hardened. “She told me no one would believe it.”

“Did Ms. O’Connor know about this?”

“I didn’t want to bother Cara. There was no need. I could handle myself around Susanne. I kept my mouth shut and my hands to myself. Things aren’t always what they seem, Ms. Mulvaney.”

“Probably not.”

“So you believe me?”

“I’m thinking about it.” Summer frowned. “You’ve got an accent. Were you born here?”

“Southern Wyoming. As beautiful a place as God ever set his hand to create.” Gabe scanned the trees near the house. “My dad’s work kept us on the move. Thailand, Singapore, Sri Lanka, we hit all of them. After that I spent ten years Down Under. People tell me I still have a bit of a roll with the arr’s.”

“Toss a shrimp ahn the bahbie,” Summer said. “I can hear it now.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, here and there,” Summer said vaguely.

“East Coast.” He crossed his arms. “Somewhere south of New York City, but north of Virginia.”

Summer wasn’t about to discuss her past.

Gabe held out one hand, studying her face in the deepening twilight. “Truce? Since we have to work in close quarters, feuding could be unpleasant.”

Summer considered his outstretched hand. She wasn’t fighting, but she wasn’t ready for a truce, either. “I can live with unpleasant. Good night, Mr. Morgan.” She moved past him, up the big stone steps.

“Tough, aren’t you?”

“Tough enough.” Summer wondered why she didn’t quite trust the man. Was it because he had appeared from a perfect spot for surveillance or because of what had happened in her shower?

“Don’t worry,” she called over her shoulder. “You keep out of my way and I’ll keep out of yours. No contact, no problems.”

Gabe started to answer, but gravel shot over the driveway, and Summer spun around hard, verifying that the two girls were up on the porch in a position of relative safety. As lights cut across the darkness, she relaxed, recognizing the black Acura.

Senator Winslow turned off the motor, then moved around to the passenger side where Cara was gathering her briefcase, suit jacket, and a pair of killer heels that looked very uncomfortable. Up on the porch the girls let out a yell, racing to their mother, who dropped the shoes and caught them both in a tight grip.

In that moment Summer saw how strong the tie was that bound them. Despite Audra’s bouts of sullenness, she was loose and smiling in her mother’s arms, while Sophy’s good humor flared into incandescence.

As the senator watched the noisy reunion, Summer registered his confidence and power. With his broad shoulders and rugged features, he was someone who would always be noticed. When he walked toward her, Summer saw the lines at his mouth and forehead that his easy smile couldn’t conceal.

“Ms. Mulvaney, isn’t it? Welcome to California. You’ve had quite an eventful first day.”

When he spoke, Summer understood why journalists on the Capitol Hill beat had dubbed Tate Winslow “The Voice.” Every word rolled with deep resonance and a hypnotizing sense of candor.

A voice like that was a dangerous weapon for a politician, she thought cynically.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Yes, we had a little excitement. Thankfully, the problem was brief.”

The senator nodded, then turned to Gabe. “Did you get those lights repaired?”

So much for her suspicions, Summer thought, grimacing at Gabe’s I-told-you-so smile. “All but the last junction box, sir. I should have that one fixed in half an hour. After that I’ll work on the new path lights.”

“Good.” The senator glanced toward the darkness of the beach. “More lighting should improve the security here. At least that’s what the experts tell me.” He watched a dark sedan pull into the driveway.

“Are you expecting company, sir?” Summer moved closer to Cara and the girls as a man and woman emerged from the car.

“That’s Cara’s police escort. Since these threats began, the state police have provided a detail for her protection,” he said quietly. “For the moment it seems to be enough.” He looked at Summer. “You know about the threats, don’t you?”

Summer nodded. Cara O’Connor had kept Summer’s real identity a secret from everyone, even the senator and his staff, until the source of the threats was identified. “When Audra vanished today, I shook out most of the museum to find her, sir. I’m afraid she suspects something is wrong.”

“I’ll pass the word to Cara.” The senator grinned as the girls shot toward him. Sophy whirled in circles, pulling out her ballet shoes to show him, while Audra took his briefcase. With one arm around each girl, he walked toward the house, where Cara stood silhouetted in light from the big doorway.

They were a real, loving family, Summer thought. The kind of family she’d once had and lost so suddenly. She felt a moment of jealousy and forced it down hard.

Do the job, she told herself. Forget the emotions, because they can get you fired fast.

Or even killed.

She felt Gabe Morgan’s eyes on her.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. “I saw something in your face. One second it was there, then it was gone.”

Summer shrugged. Why did this stranger glimpse the emotions she usually kept well-hidden? “Just a trick of the light.”

She started to walk past him, but he caught her arm. “What’s wrong, damn it?”

“Not a single thing.”

But the truth was that working with a family was different from Summer’s usual assignments. She hadn’t expected the intimacy, or how it would affect her. She had to stay aloof and unmoved to get the job done. Meanwhile, she had one more surreptitious search of the house to complete before the girls went to bed. After that came a detailed report on the incident at the aquarium.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She pushed past him, shoulders stiff, determined to lock down her emotions where they couldn’t bother her—or jeopardize the job at hand.