Killing Secrets (25 page)

Flashing a smile at Amanda, she helped her off the vanity stool. Her little girl’s hand clutched in hers, she escorted her downstairs to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Rachel,” Evelyn called out merrily from the stove. The tall, spare woman looked fresh as a daisy in Bermuda shorts and a sleeveless cotton shirt, an apron with decorative spills all over it that said in bold letters, “It takes real talent to get food into the pot.” Evelyn eased pancakes onto two plates on the counter and handed one to Amanda. “Do you like blueberry pancakes, sweetie?”

Amanda nodded with more animation than she’d shown the muffins her mother suggested earlier.

Evelyn motioned toward the table. “Then, find a seat and dig in.” She glanced at her husband. “Ross, please stop reading that newspaper and pour some syrup on Amanda’s pancakes.”

Patrick’s dad winked at the little girl, folded his paper, and reached for the bottle. He’d poured a sticky lake over her single pancake by the time Rachel walked around Buckwheat, planted at his master’s feet, and sat at the table with her own breakfast.

Grateful Patrick wasn’t there—she wasn’t ready to deal with him yet—she bit her bottom lip and waded in. “I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep in your own bed last night, Mr. Thorne,” she said, pouring creamer into her coffee. “Amanda and I will move out of the master suite this morning.”

It was a great excuse to avoid going to Southgate with Patrick. She’d strip and remake the bed in the room at the top of the stairs, too. It was bad enough the Thornes suspected she and Patrick slept together without providing incontrovertible proof.

“It’s Ross, and that’s really not necessary,” he said. “Amanda’s safe in the adjoining room with Buckwheat, and she needs her mother nearby.” He frowned down at the brace on his right leg. “Besides, it’s easier to get in and out of the twin bed in the boys’ old sick room next to my office. I can’t say I was looking forward to negotiating the stairs on crutches.”

“I’m happy enough in the other twin, too,” Evelyn said from her position by the stove, wiping a hand on her apron. “In forty years of marriage, the only time I’ve slept alone was when Ross worked graveyards. Now he’s retired, I’m catching up.”

“Sprain or not, I’m still able to outrun you, woman.” Ross grinned at his wife, a naughty glint in his dark brown eyes.

Wow.
Rachel suddenly knew where Patrick got that look that melted her bones. “I meant to ask last night. What did you do to your leg?”

Patrick chose that moment to walk into the kitchen from outside, dressed for a day at work, his hair still damp from a shower he must have taken at his house. “I want to hear this one, too, Dad.” His intense gaze tangled with Rachel’s before he looked away. “You and Mom weren’t supposed to be home from the Virgin Islands until Jack’s wedding in three weeks.”

Ross shook his head at his son and mouthed, “Don’t mention—”

Handing a cup of black coffee to Patrick, Evelyn caught the silent warning. She frowned. “For goodness sake, Ross, I won’t fly off the handle because I’m not the least bit involved in my son’s wedding arrangements. I respect Jack’s reasons for not upsetting Maggie’s family.”

“But you said you were going on vacation,” Patrick said, “precisely because you couldn’t stand being left out of everything.”

“I’ll admit it was bothering me a bit, but that’s not the real reason why I agreed to go. I just didn’t want Jack to stress, worrying that I was stressing. Your brother’s going to have enough on his plate once he marries that family.” She shrugged. “I have five more chances to plan a wedding.”

Despite her conciliatory tone, it sounded to Rachel like Evelyn had reservations about her son’s future in-laws.

“Jack’s not marrying Maggie’s family, Mom.”

“Want to bet? Just because you didn’t have to deal with Karly’s dysfunctional parents…oh, fiddle.” Making a face that made it clear she hadn’t intended to reveal so much, she walked back to the stove and flipped three large pancakes onto an empty plate. “The point is a man and a woman brings more than themselves into a marriage.” She returned to the table and set the plate in front of Patrick. “More relationships are destroyed by a spouse’s family than you can imagine.”

“We lucked out with ours,” Ross said, handing the syrup bottle across the table to Patrick. “My parents worshipped the ground your mom walked on.”

“Mine felt the same about you,” Evelyn said to Ross, “once they started talking to us again.”

“Best anniversary party ever!” He grinned at his wife. “Although it did take two years for them to decide you could be happy ‘slumming’ on a lowly cop’s salary.”

“I’m praying Jack won’t have to wait that long,” she said, a crease over her brow. “Maggie’s family—” She shrugged.

The older Thornes shared a look before Patrick pointedly reminded them of his question. “So it was your knee that brought you home early. How did you hurt it?”

Evelyn snorted. “Your father caught a downdraft parasailing.”

Ross snorted, and shifted in his chair. “The island doc said it’s just a sprain. We could have stayed, spent the rest of our vacation lying in a hammock on the beach, but your mom insisted we come home.”

“You might have been killed, Ross,” Evelyn said, irritation and worry in her voice. “You’re sixty-four years old and shouldn’t have—”

“Ah, Evie.” Ross pulled the woman down onto his good knee. “You’re just ticked I went first and you didn’t get your turn. I agreed to see our doctor when we got home, so stop nagging on me.”

“Fine. But, if I’m right and the doctor says your ACL is torn, you owe me a prime rib dinner at The Timber Wolf.” Evelyn placed both hands on his jaw and kissed him. “And next time, Mr. Hotshot, I get to go first.”

“I’m sure I speak for all of my brothers when I say I’d be more comfortable if you’d both keep your feet on the ground,” Patrick said dryly, taking a bite of blueberry pancakes.

His parents grinned. Then, Patrick’s brother-in-law, Skip, walked in from outside.

Rachel hadn’t seen him up close since the incident with the councilman. He was wearing his usual jeans over his lanky frame. Today, they looked new and he sported a white button-down shirt beneath a dark blue suit coat. Add a striped tie, his dark brown hair slicked back with some sort of gel, and it looked like he was going on a date. “Good morning, Skip,” she said. “You look very nice today.”

“I’m visiting my sister’s grave.” He shuffled his feet. “It’s her birthday.”

“Oh.” Seeing Patrick’s stony expression across the table, Rachel’s heart sank. He’d never mentioned his dead wife and she’d been too afraid to wade into what she suspected were deep waters. Did he still love his wife? Rachel had no illusions he had strong feelings beyond lust for her, which caused a pang in her heart.

When she looked at Evelyn, she found her watching Patrick, too. “Your flowers are ready inside the greenhouse door, Skip,” she said, rising from Ross’s knee. “Leave them in the water bucket until you get up to the cabin or they’ll wilt.”

“Did you want me to take yours with me, Patrick?” he asked.

Patrick blinked. “I didn’t—”

Evelyn interrupted. “That would be nice, Skip,” she said. “I put both bouquets in the bucket.” She gestured to the food on the table. “Before you go, would you like some blueberry pancakes?”

“No thanks, Evelyn. I grabbed a breakfast sandwich on the way over.” He smiled at Rachel. “I’m happy to see you’re none the worse after Thursday.”

“I’m not the one who saved the day,” she said, remembering the horror she’d felt when she realized Patrick might be killed right in front of her. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but thanks for what you did.”

“I had to protect Patrick.” He looked at him with hero worship. “Karly may be gone, but he’s still family. He gave me a job and a home when I came back from the army after Karly…um, he gave me purpose again.”

Patrick sat stiffly in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with his brother-in-law’s praise. Or was it the second mention of Karly’s death that was causing the trouble? “Still a heroic thing to do, Skip,” he agreed, “and we’re all grateful for your quick thinking. You saved our lives. I meant what I said last night. Don’t hurry back to work today. It’ll take at least four hours to get up to the cabin and back, so stay the night and return in the morning. You know where to find the key.”

Skip shook his head. “Can’t. We’ve got trouble at Southgate. It’s why I’m here…besides the flowers, I mean. Seems the landscaper we contracted ran off to Mexico with his office girl. He left his wife and crew high and dry.”

Patrick cursed, and then glanced at Amanda, who stared at him across the kitchen table with wide eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile before he spoke to Skip again in a calmer voice. “They’ve barely started landscaping the first building. There’s at least two weeks of work, maybe three. Please tell me he left someone in charge of the project.”

“I wish. According to the employee I talked to, boss man was too cheap to pay a crew lead. He was running the show,” Skip said. “His guys want to work. They just have no one to give them direction. Or pay them. He cleaned out his business accounts, along with his personal ones.”

Pushing his plate of uneaten pancakes into the center of the table, a muscle ticked in Patrick’s jaw. “The grand opening of the first two buildings is already scheduled. There has to be someone who can take over.”

“I’ve made a few phone calls.” Skip shrugged. “All of the available landscapers either have full schedules for the summer or don’t have the resources to handle a project of this size in the time we have left.”

Evelyn spoke up. “Rachel can do it, Patrick. She’s has a degree in landscape design and she’s going to be Katy’s partner when she returns to Dallas. She can take over the project, and you can pay the crew yourself.”

“I can’t—” Rachel started to say when she processed what Evelyn said.
Katy was offering her a partnership?
She’d mentioned the possibility of training her to take over once, years ago when she’d first worked for Katy the summer before she went off to college and met Greg, but they hadn’t discussed it again. If asked a couple of weeks ago, she’d have been thrilled. She wasn’t planning to give up her landscaping dreams after her great-aunt’s estate was settled. But, she glanced at Patrick, so much had changed.

“She can’t,” he said firmly. “She may have the skills, but I can’t guarantee her safety if she’s running all over the site.”

His gaze bounced off Rachel and she wondered if this was his way of distancing himself after last night. He’d made it clear, then, he hadn’t wanted to get involved, but he had and now he couldn’t look at her?

Suddenly furious with the man, her own gullibility, she straightened her shoulders. “You insisted on bringing back my dad’s bodyguards, Patrick, so let them guard. I’d rather be connected at the hip with them doing something useful than sitting in the trailer twiddling my thumbs.” She rushed on before he could shoot her down. “You have the blueprints for the job, right?”

Their gazes locked and, for a moment, she lost herself in the heat of his eyes. His next words washed over her like a bucket of ice water. “Of course, I have blueprints. But what about Amanda and Suze?” he asked. “Are you planning to traipse them all over the site, too? The idea is to keep them safe and that means keeping them hidden.”

Her anger dissipated under his argument. She dare not expose the children. Greg would jump on any chance to get his hands on Amanda. “Maybe I can help from the safety of the trailer,” she conceded. “I don’t have to be hands on. I could give the landscapers direction and someone on your crew can monitor things for me.”

“I don’t think—”

“The girls can stay here under lock and key with me and your dad, Patrick,” Evelyn interjected. She smiled at Amanda. “Would you like to spend the day with me and Suze baking cookies, sweetie?”

Amanda’s head bounced up and down excitedly. Then she glanced at her mother.

It broke Rachel’s heart to see her little girl’s eyes dim. Of course, Amanda would jump at the chance to bake cookies. It was her favorite thing to do with her mother before their life fell apart. Once they reached Dallas, Rachel was so busy trying to save Katy and her nurseries that baking had fallen by the wayside.

Maybe the normal activity was just what her daughter needed. Between a security system, Buckwheat, and Patrick’s policeman father, she’d be safe enough here at the house. The question was could she let her daughter out of her sight? They’d never been further than a room or two apart since they fled the west coast. “Do you want to stay here all day with Miss Evelyn and Suze if Mama’s not here?”

Her little girl nodded vigorously, her eyes pleading.

Was Rachel the only one having separation anxiety? “What about your doctor’s appointment?” she asked Ross.

“I doubt we’ll get one today,” he said, “but if we do, we’ll take Amanda with us. I may not be able to do a 50-yard sprint, but I’m perfectly able to guard her.”

Evelyn nodded. “And Ross taught me self-defense. We’ll protect Amanda like our own.”

Rachel looked at Patrick, who was following the discussion with a closed expression. “Looks like you all have it planned out,” he said quietly.

Too quietly. “If you don’t want me to work for you, if you don’t think I can do the job, just say so, Patrick. You won’t hurt my feelings.” Her feelings
would
be hurt, but she was a big girl.