Fear Familiar Bundle (131 page)

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Authors: Caroline Burnes

BOOK: Fear Familiar Bundle
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"He should not speak with you." His hands clenched on the table. "No one can understand what you and Mora went through. No one except me, because I was there to watch it. A loving family was destroyed by the FBI. This young man is not good for you, Sarah. Stay away from him."

Sarah slowly put the icing tube down. "I've never seen you so adamant about who I see or don't see. Is there something you haven't told me?" She could feel her heartbeat increase with anticipation.

"Did he tell you he was visiting Joshua Jenkins earlier this morning?" He nodded. "No, I can tell by your expression that he did not. He is not a truthful man, and someone is going to be hurt by his lies and deceptions. I don't want it to be you."

"Someone already has." Sarah sank into the chair beside Familiar.

"What are you saying?"

She looked across at the tall man who had always shown her such kindness. More than anything, she wanted to tell him what had happened, to ask his advice on what she should do. She could. Daniel would never know. And if what Uncle Vince said was true, she didn't owe Daniel any allegiance whatsoever.

"Sarah, who has been hurt?" Vincent leaned across the table and took her hand.

"It's, uh, no one." No matter how much she wanted to, she could not break her word. As soon as she saw Daniel again she would confront him with what she'd learned and then let him know that she was calling the police. Better late than never.

"Sarah, what in the world is wrong with you,
chérie
? You're very pale. Your hands are trembling."

"I, uh, need some breakfast, I think." She hurried to the refrigerator and got out a slice of homemade raisin bread. "Would you like some raisin toast?"

"No, I must be going. I just wanted to stop and make sure you were okay." He got up and walked over to her. "You are not. I'm going to insist that you take a vacation."

"I can't. I have too much work— "

"The party this afternoon. When it's over, I'll send one of the men to get you. Since you won't come to New York with me at noon, then you can stay at the Idlewild house for a couple of days. It'll give you a chance to rest." He looked over at the cat. "And bring your friend, if you must. I know that's going to be your next excuse."

Sarah put her arms around Vincent's neck. "Thank you," she whispered. "I think getting away for a few days will be the very best thing in the world for me. But don't send any of your employees. I'll drive myself. I prefer to have my car."

"Excellent. You work too hard,
chérie,
" he said, kissing the top of her head. "I have never regretted helping you because you work so hard to make things happen." A frown touched his face, "Jean-Claude takes so much for granted. But you take nothing. You push and work and struggle. You will succeed. You could be a good influence on my son."

Sarah hugged him. "I don't think so. Jean-Claude will mature. He's just slower than I was. He had the luxury of taking it slowly."

Vincent gave her another squeeze. "And you're such a little diplomat, too. You will have the biggest catering business in D.C. Now, I'm off. If you speak with Mora, give her my love."

"I will," Sarah promised as she waved him through the front door. When she returned to the kitchen, she buttered her toast and finished the cake and cupcakes. Thirty minutes later, just as Daniel pulled up to the alley, she had everything ready.

"Thanks for the use of the car," Daniel said as he stepped in through the back door.

Sarah saw that he was wearing casual slacks and a pullover. "Where's the suit?" She'd decided to give him a chance to tell her about Jenkins.

"I'm officially suspended." He shrugged, but it didn't hide his worry. "I called in and Gottard said I was suspended for not reporting back from duty."

"Did you tell them you'd been kidnapped?"

Daniel shook his head. "I'm not sure how that fits into the puzzle, Sarah. I'm afraid to tell anyone anything."

"Are you afraid to tell me you've been talking to Joshua Jenkins?" She looked up at him, blue eyes sparking with an anger that was upon her suddenly.

"I didn't see any point in telling you that." Daniel knew she was enraged.

"Well, I don't see any point in lying for you anymore. I just wanted to tell you to your face. I'm calling the police and reporting Cody's death. I'm going to tell them everything."

"Sarah— "

"It won't do any good to try and talk me out of it. I hate liars, Daniel, and a lie of omission is just as damning as an outright lie in my book."

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would upset you."

"Great." She tossed a dish towel into the sink. "You lied to me to protect me from my own emotions. That's a good one. Isn't that sort of like the bank robber who took the money so the tellers wouldn't be tempted?"

"Sarah, it isn't like that. I asked Jenkins about your father."

"And that's the one area I asked you not to meddle in." Sarah picked up the cake and strode past him to the car. With great care, she placed it on the backseat. "I'm going to the party, Daniel. Alone. I'm going to report this mess, even if I have to take the coward's way out and report it anonymously."

"If you do this, there's a chance I could get in serious trouble."

"Maybe you need to get in serious trouble. My uncle said that you were a renegade, a troublemaker who broke the rules to suit his own purposes. I didn't want to believe that." Sarah felt the tears building. "So I ignored him. Now I'm partially responsible for a man's death.
That's
what I get for not listening to my uncle." She pushed past him and went back into the kitchen, bringing out the trays of cupcakes.

"What uncle?" Daniel let the question slip before he thought of the consequences.

"Oh, right. You know my background. I don't have any blood uncles. But I do have an adopted one." She was even angrier than before.

"Who is this man?"

"None of your damn business, Daniel. Now you'd better stay out of my way." Three trips later she had everything loaded. Daniel stood helplessly and watched. She wouldn't allow him to assist her.

"Sarah, if you'll let me explain, I know I can make you understand. I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"Maybe not in your books, but in mine you're nothing but a convenient liar. Stay out of my life, Daniel. Every shred of trust I had for you is gone." She finally looked at him, taking in the handsome face and the big shoulders. She had begun to develop feelings for him. Now she was going to pay the price for allowing anyone inside her private world. When would she learn that bitter lesson— she couldn't be hurt if she didn't let anyone in.

"I'll call you this evening."

"You can call until the cows come home, Daniel. I won't be here to answer it."

"Where are you going?"

Sarah picked up the cat and put him in the car, along with a bag she'd packed earlier. "That's none of your business. I'm telling you, though, tonight I'm going to call the police. That will give you six or seven hours to do whatever you have to do."

Frustration, anger, and concern for Sarah were all mixed together as Daniel watched her drive away. Lucky for him he'd had his flats repaired and the car delivered to Sarah's shop. He waited until she'd turned left out of the alley, and then he ran for his car and followed her.

She might be mad at him now, but he was a trained agent. He could follow her without getting caught.

Two hours later he was hiding in a hedge on the lush lawn of the U.S. senator from Georgia. The party was a smashing success, and the bronco birthday cake had just been cut. Daniel toted up the cost of the party— at least a couple of grand, what with the trained ponies fitted out in silver saddles and the actors dressed as cowboys and cowgirls who were playing with the seven-year-olds.

There had been a staged gunfight and a roping exhibit. Not to mention the cowboy with the guitar who sang a few cow-poke songs and then "Happy Birthday." The entire extravagant affair had been wonderfully coordinated, and Sarah had taken care of all the food. Now the kids were stuffing their faces with ice cream, cake and a million other goodies.

Shrill laughter rang out as the children ate and played, but Daniel's gaze was focused on Sarah. She was packing up her things and putting them in the car. And that black cat was sitting on the passenger seat as if he knew what was happening.

After a few brief words with several of the grown-ups, Sarah got into her car. She was finished. Daniel made a dash for his car, pulling around to the service entrance so that he could wait for Sarah to come around. In less than a minute, she did, and he pulled into traffic after her, aware that she was headed due east, away from the city. And she was in a hurry.

When the dark sedan pulled in after her, Daniel didn't realize at first that the car was following Sarah. It was only after several turns that he knew she'd picked up an additional tail. He eased up as close as he dared to the car, feeling a sudden thud of acknowledgment as he realized it was the same car he'd seen parked on her street. He'd recognize the mud-covered car tag anywhere.

Chapter Nine

"What's wrong with you?" Sarah asked the black cat as they pulled into the shadow of Vincent Minton's beach house. It was a beautiful building, constructed of natural wood and glass, built on pilings against the chance of floods. In the rear of the house, stairs led to a wraparound porch, and the front of the house faced Chesapeake Bay with a view that increased the value of the property ten times over. Uncle Vince had inherited the house from his grandfather, who'd received the property from his own grandfather. Through the years, it had been improved and modernized, but it had never lost the rustic appeal that Sarah loved. She stared up at the darkened house, ignoring the cat as he continued to look out the rear window of the car, giving an occasional low growl.

"This isn't exactly the city, I know, but I think you can adjust to a little peace and quiet for a night or two. It'll do you good." Sarah stroked the cat's head. "It might even make you realize that you enjoy living with me. You might want to stay around a little more than you do."

"Meow." Familiar rubbed hard against her hand, then hopped to the ground and started up the stairs.

"Eager little rascal, aren't you?" Sarah was relieved to see the cat so adaptable. She'd had some concern about bringing him, but she couldn't leave him in the city with no one to look out for him. And to be honest, she wanted his company. She'd been so busy all afternoon that she kept Daniel's betrayal tamped down. Now, though, she was going to have to call in and report what she knew about Cody Pruett's death. And no matter how hard she tried, she hadn't been able to avoid thinking about that.

Strange, though, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn't know a lot. She wasn't even certain how Cody had died. Daniel had checked the body, but he'd forced her from the room before she'd seen any wound or indication of how Cody had met his death. When she called, what was she going to tell the police? The truth was, she wasn't even certain the lab tech was dead. She'd taken Daniel's word for it— and she'd discovered exactly how good Daniel's word was.

"Meow!"

Familiar was at the top of the stairs demanding entry into the house. He shifted from the door to a lookout position back down the long, winding drive. Normally Sarah loved the solitude that several heavily wooded acres gave the house, but this time she couldn't help the slight shiver that passed through her. It was a long driveway, and the trees and undergrowth had been left thick and unkempt. For privacy.

Sarah pulled the key from her purse and opened the door, tossing her overnight bag in behind Familiar. Just to be on the safe side, she scanned the driveway, then walked around the deck to check the boat dock. The motorboat that Uncle Vince used to explore the bay was hanging from the lift in the boathouse and there was no other boat in sight. She was completely alone.

* * *

S
O THIS IS
U
NC'S PAD
on the bay. Nice digs. Very private, very solitary, very expensive. I just wonder if the car that's been following us is one of Unc's hired protectors, the hardheaded Agent Dubonet, or the black sedan from the beauty salon. All I can say is that I'm glad Eleanor and Peter left this morning for a three-day trip to New York. They assumed, wrongly of course, that I would remain in the house. Magdelene, that dear, kindly woman, is supposed to look in on me. I hope I don't worry her too much, but I don't see how I can make it home tonight. All in all, it's been a rather hectic day.

I enjoyed the party. All those young bipeds shrieking and stumbling after the ponies. I'm telling you, those ponies deserve a tolerance award. Young humans have to be taught that animals feel pain, and let me tell you, some of those youngsters were pulling tails and poking those ponies. I'm afraid it would have been "To the moon, Alice" for a few of them if I had been a pony.

The only person of any real interest was Lucinda Watts. She must be in her fifties now, but she's a looker. Ever since I've lived in Washington, I've heard her name bandied about by those who want to appear to be part of the inner circle. Lucinda's parties are legendary, as is her past. Even Eleanor knows the gossip that Lucinda was once a stripper on the Gulf Coast and that she's closely linked with a former vice president. As in, romantically linked. Well, whatever exercise she does to keep her figure, it works. She looked great.

Now, let's explore this joint. Master bedroom and bath upstairs. Guest bedroom and bath, upstairs. Kitchen and den, complete with a cozy fireplace, downstairs. Sensible and easy. I like this. But what are we going to do for two days? We have a mystery to solve back in Washington. Maybe I can convince Dolly to pack up early. I'm not exactly the kind of cat to lounge around and watch television all evening. I need to be where the action is.

Uncle Vince's taste in magazines is interesting. Here's one on architecture, another on medical advances, one on interior design, and one on history. And, what's this? A family photo album. It might be interesting to see this Jean-Claude. Every time Unc mentions his name, Sarah cringes. He must have been a real pain in the old butt when they were growing up.

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