“Not a problem. I’m famished.” It had been too many hours since she’d eaten that divine treat Brand had made for her. If she’d been thinking, she’d have brought the rest to work with her. Actually, after she finished lunch, she could probably sneak up to the suite to—
“Don’t forget you have an appointment in twenty minutes.”
She barely choked back her groan.
“And two more after that.” Commiserating, Enoch said, “I’m sorry, but the next few hours will be hectic, which is why I really do hope you’ll eat.”
“You have my word.” She picked up the phone and clicked line one as Enoch exited the office. “Good afternoon, Justice.”
Skipping a greeting, he said, “Did you schedule landscapers at your house?”
Startled, she picked a piece of turkey off her sandwich and replied, “No, of course not.”
He cursed, got himself together and growled, “They were here. They not only trimmed everything, but butchered your tree.”
“My tree?”
“The one we’d already cut back so no one else could use it getting in or out of your house. Well, there’s no chance of that now. It’s a bare trunk damn near to the top!”
She sat back in her seat, thinking. “The landscapers come often, but they always tell me first. They can’t get through the gate otherwise.”
“I was here,” Justice said, “looking things over.”
“Looking things over?” she repeated.
“We agreed—”
“We who?”
Picking up on her incredulous tone, he paused. “Leese, Miles and I. We figured we’d take turns stopping by, making sure no one was around...looking things over.”
“I see.” And no one had thought to discuss this plan with her? Did Brand know? Did they all think her too frail for details? “Why wasn’t I told?”
“I figured Leese would tell you,” he said fast. “But he got held up today so I guess he hasn’t had a chance.”
Ah, so they weren’t protecting her from the plans. That mollified her—a little. “You let in the landscapers?”
“They came in behind me. After Miles called them yesterday, we knew to expect them, but since someone had gotten in here, I figured I’d watch them anyway, just to be sure, you know?”
“And?”
“They did a terrific job. The grass is cut and edged, the bushes shaped, the trees trimmed. I had no reason to think they weren’t legit until I saw what they did to the tree. And if you didn’t tell them to do it, then what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t suppose you got photos of the men?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Well then, I really have no idea. But I have appointments starting in—” she checked the clock “—fifteen minutes, and I need to devour my lunch. When I get some free time I’ll call the landscapers and find out if it was in fact them, and if so, why they butchered my tree.”
“Yeah, you do that. I’m going to get hold of the others.”
“Justice—”
“I’ll catch you later, Sahara.” And he ended the call.
Grumbling, Sahara took a big bite of her sandwich. She had a feeling it hadn’t been the landscapers at all, but who would sneak onto her property, do the job of well-paid landscapers...and then destroy her tree?
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN SAHARA TOLD him what happened, Brand wanted to turn the car around and cancel the trip to see Becky. Any excuse would do, but this one had meat, had legitimacy.
Unfortunately, Sahara refused.
“I’ve been looking forward to it. If you cancel, I’ll feel obligated to go back to the office, and I swear my eyes are crossing from searching through so many files and matching names to photos. Give me a good old-fashioned confrontation any time.”
Brand tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Who do you want to confront?”
“No one, now. But I would have certainly questioned the phony landscapers if I’d been there. Unfortunately, I’ve been denied that opportunity.”
Thank God for small favors. “Why the hell didn’t Justice get some photos if he was skeptical?”
She shrugged. “He wasn’t, because he had no reason to be, not until he saw that they’d nearly cleaned my largest tree of all its branches. Not only did they take off every branch that could lead to my window, they cut away any that came close to the roof.”
Had someone taken further steps to protect her? Or was there something else in the works?
Whatever was happening, it wouldn’t hurt for him to keep her away for a bit. He checked the rearview mirror again, but still didn’t see anyone.
Given how Brand felt about Becky, the visit with her would be brief, so he decided on a detour. It was only five, but keeping Sahara busy until bedtime would probably be a good thing. “Do you have to be back right away?”
“No. I can be free for the rest of the evening.” She traced a fingernail up his forearm to his biceps. “What did you have in mind?”
Brand laughed. “Not that.” At her fallen expression, he added, “At least until later. For now, I thought I’d squeeze in another visit.” For vague reasons that he didn’t want to analyze, he’d like for his mom to meet Sahara, and vice versa. “What do you think?”
Leaning her head back against the seat, she gazed at him. “I’m at your mercy.”
He liked the sound of that. “Give me a sec.” He pressed the hands-free function on his steering wheel and dialed up his mom. When she answered, her voice was so gruff he knew he’d probably caught her napping.
“Brand, honey, how are you?”
Beside him, Sahara perked up.
“I’m good, Mom. I’ll be down your way to see Becky and thought I’d stop by for a visit first.”
“We’ll be here. I have a meat loaf in the oven, so bring your appetite.”
Sahara grinned.
“I’ll have a guest, Mom. That okay?”
After an expectant pause, she said, “Of course,” with a tinge of excitement. “Who is it?”
“Sahara Silver. You’re on speaker, so you can say hi if you want.”
Sahara sat forward in happy animation. “Hello, Mrs. Berry. How are you?”
Though the mistake was understandable, Brand corrected her. “She’s Mrs. Hodge.”
“Yes, sorry, Mrs. Hodge. I’m so excited to meet you.”
Another long pause, and then, with curiosity but no censure, she asked, “You told her?”
“She’s going with me to meet Becky, too,” Brand explained, as if that was why she knew.
Sahara sent him a look. “Actually, he told me a while ago.”
“He did? Hmm, that’s very...interesting.”
“Mom,” he warned. “Don’t make a big thing of it.”
“No, of course not.” Then sweetly, “Hello, Ms. Silver. Please, call me Ann.”
“If you’ll call me Sahara.”
“Such a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
“How do you and Brand know each other?”
“Some of his friends work for me at my security agency, Body Armor.”
Sahara didn’t mention that she hoped to have him work for her, too, and he appreciated that.
His mom didn’t know the demands her sister made of him, and he didn’t plan to tell her. If he did, she’d feel obligated to alleviate the burden, when it wasn’t hers to bear.
Raising her sister’s son had been more than enough.
He could still remember the day Becky had dropped him off on his aunt. He’d been five years old, already loved Aunt Ann and was excited to stay with her. Where his own mother was often absent, and grouchy when she was around, Aunt Ann showered him with attention and affection. He’d cherished the time with her.
But it was still a rude awakening as the days with her turned to weeks, and the weeks to months.
He was young, but not so dumb that he didn’t realize he’d been given away.
Once he asked Ann about it, everything changed. She stopped trying to shield him from the truth and instead embraced it, telling him that he was the greatest gift she and Uncle John had ever received. She’d said that from now on, he was hers and she’d never, ever let him go.
That was the day he started calling her “Mom.”
For the next half hour, the women chatted without his input, discussing everything from the weather and meat loaf, to life in the country versus cases at Body Armor.
Finally, his mom wound down enough to ask him “How long before you’re here, honey?”
“We’d just gotten on the road when I called. Maybe another half hour or so, depending on traffic.”
“I’ll go tell John. He has a new gun to show you, so I know he’ll be thrilled.”