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  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.” Summ
er 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.

  chapter 9

  Long curtains drifted at half-open windows. Summer would check each one later to be certain all were closed and locked, but for now it was pleasant to feel the sea wind on her face.

  Sitting on Sophy’s bed, with a book opened on her lap, Cara read quietly.

  “‘It was late one winter night, long past my bedtime . . .’”

  Sophy gave a little sigh and closed her eyes. Stretched out beside her, Audra wiggled once, then relaxed, her feet hidden in pink bunny slippers. Liberace was curled on Audra’s lap, quiet for once.

  “‘We walked on toward the woods, Pa and I.’”

  Summer had vague memories of reading this same book long ago, but there had been no bedtime rituals such as this in her house. She had chosen her own books, alone at the public library, while her father had been off on some military posting too secret for details. And her mother?

  She shook away cold memories and focused on the quiet bedtime scene before her, feeling like an intruder even though Cara had expressly requested her to stay.

  As the words flowed, Audra closed her eyes, and even Summer felt the tug of sleep and peace.

  What if there had been nights like this for her and her sister? How much better to grow up this way rather than within the tense silences of a household where people had forgotten how to communicate or even care?

  There were no answers. No sense of resolution. But Summer hadn’t expected any. You could never go back.

  Cara continued to read from Owl Moon, her voice soft with emotion, easy with long experience at the familiar lines. The girls joined in for train whistles and owl cries as the story unfolded, and the sense of family became poignant and tangible.

  If Summer had been the emotional type, the scene might have pulled out a few tears. Because she wasn’t, she stood and slipped away. First she would check downstairs and make sure the cooking staff had locked up properly in the kitchen. With Cara’s wedding approaching, kitchen activity had moved into fast-forward, and two pastry chefs were expected soon, to supplement the preparations made by the family’s longtime chef. Cara had explained that Imelda and Patrick were excellent workers, but terrible about leaving windows open and doors unlocked, so Summer made a tour of the kitchen part of her security procedure.

  On this trip she found a window cracked open off the pantry, wedged in position with a spoon. Annoyed beyond words, she planned a serious discussion of security with Cara as soon as the girls went to bed. Meanwhile, Summer continued around the house, jotting down problems in a little book. Finally satisfied that all doors and windows were secure and nothing looked out of place, she prepared to set the alarm.

  A footstep in the hall stopped her.

  “You left before we were done.” Cara’s face was calm but tired in the glow of the single overhead light. “I hope nothing was wrong.”

  “I needed to finish checking the house and grounds. I was just about to set the alarm before I went outside.”

  “Go ahead. Tate knows the code.”

  “Who else knows it?” Summer asked quietly.

  “Only myself. And the girls, of course.”

  Warning bells clanged in Summer’s head. How much would it take for a school chum to weasel the password out of Sophy, who trusted everyone? “You might want to consider changing the code on a weekly basis, just for safety.”

  “A sensible precaution.” Cara rubbed her neck, wincing. “Why don’t you set the alarm and finish your rounds while I make us some tea?”

/>   Fifteen minutes later, Summer returned to find Cara curled in a window seat overlooking the rose garden, while tea steamed from the lip of a nearby kettle.

  “I’m sorry about the tricks the girls played today. I’ve told them they’re both grounded for a week. I trust that will stop the problems.” Cara cut wedges of a frosted cake and shifted them onto plates of Royal Copenhagen china. “I thought you might like some of Patrick’s beyond-decadent white-chocolate frosted carrot cake. I warn you, it’s addictive.”

  Summer slid into the opposite seat. “Bad idea. I could barely fit into your leotard for Sophy’s dance class today.”

  “She said you were wonderful, by the way. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I’ve only made three classes this year.” Cara frowned down at her tea. “There have been so many things I’ve had to miss since I took this job.” When she looked up, her emotions were carefully tucked away. “You know, I haven’t really had a chance to thank you for taking this assignment. You came very highly recommended.”

  “No need to thank me, ma’am. It was my chief’s call. I have to admit that this part of California is gorgeous. So is this amazing house of yours.”

  “I’ve often thought we should sell it and move somewhere closer to the city, but the girls have spent most of their lives here and they would hate moving. Despite my long commute into San Francisco, so would I.”

  Summer watched her draw slow lines in her whipped cream. “The file said your husband built the house when you were first married.”

  “It was Howard’s special project. He chose the granite, the wood, even the tiles for the roof. The two of us actually laid the flagstones for the fireplace ourselves when I was pregnant with Audra. There are a lot of memories here.”

  As she sat back, studying her teacup, something closed in her face, and Summer realized the personal details were over. Though Cara O’Connor looked delicate, Summer figured you didn’t get to be an assistant DA without being tough and able to box up your emotions.

  “I spoke to Audra about what happened at the museum. I explained how irresponsible it was and how many people she upset by her actions.”