Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service) (2 page)

Perching on a stool at
the island, she studied him. “So, how many Secret Service agents are coming?”
Trying to sound casual to hide her apprehension, the idea of being scrutinized
was far too alarming considering her reasons for being in Bermuda.

“Two, and I hope they
blend into the background, though that is probably asking the impossible.”

“Hmm, you’re probably
right. Anyone other than the Winters will take some getting used to,” Katrina
said. She worried that their security checks would detect her quick,
unexplained departure from New York. “It was so great of Mr. Winters to extend
an invitation to his old college friend. And to think he’s The Secretary of
State. I feel so honored to be here with him.”

“And I feel honored to
cook for him and his family and friends. Gloria says The Secretary is a widower
of over three years. Since you’re both available, maybe you’ll meet the man of
your dreams this week and become the next First Lady someday.”

Katrina grinned shyly,
“I’m not on the market, Jacque.”

“But I thought you were
single?”

“I am, and I intend to
stay that way indefinitely. I’ve sworn off men for a while. I’ve had my share
of bad luck in that department.”

Jacque clucked his
tongue and dug around in the oversized fridge. “You are a beautiful woman and
any man will be lucky. When you are ready, ma cherie, when you are ready,” he
complimented over his shoulder. He straightened with an armload of ginger,
garlic, and cilantro. “He is out there somewhere, living his life and waiting
for you.”

“I don’t doubt that,”
Katrina said. Hopping off the stool, she waltzed to the large picture window
overlooking the ocean. She stared out blankly, shuddering. Someone was out
there, all right – waiting to harm her. “I hope Mr. and Mrs. Winters had
a safe trip to Africa. How long is their safari again?”

“Three weeks. So having
Mr. Winters’ friend here for the week will distract us from too much silence.
Otherwise we’d be awfully lonely with no one to share our talents.”

“Some peace and quiet
does sound nice though,” Katrina said aloud, but she knew too much silence
would only lead to unpleasant thoughts.

Jacque sighed, “Yes,
silence. To be honest, I was looking forward to some quiet around here too. I
want to start assembling a cookbook. The time is right. You and Gloria can be
my testers.” He whisked the sauce and tasted it with a pudgy finger.
“Magnifique!”

“I know, but whenever
Mr. and Mrs. Winters aren’t around, I always feel a little guilty that I have
no Pilates classes or meditation sessions to teach. It’s a lot of waiting
around and our salaries are, well, you know.”

“Incroyable? Oui, I am
aware. But Monsieur Winters can afford it. Trust me, he is a billionaire I
suspect. And his college friend, The Secretary, he comes from very old money
too. They went to private school together before college. I’ve heard they have
much history.”

“I hope the dignitaries
are friendly and want to exercise. I guess I could offer them some message
sessions too.”

“I understand you’ll have
a couple of ladies and some teenage boys to teach.”

“Come on, Jacque, do you
really think a few teenage boys will be interested in Pilates?”

“Well, I certainly
wouldn’t offer the boys any massage sessions if I were you,” Jacque winked and
laughed. “I will sympathize with you if you sympathize with me. What are the
chances they will be interested in anything but hot dogs and cheeseburgers?
I’ll have to tone down my repertoire this week.”

“Don’t tone it down on
my account, ever. I love your passion in the kitchen.”

“You are so kind, ma
cherie. It has been lovely having you around the mansion these past six months.
We will bond together and get through this group of visitors. This week should
pass quickly I hope.”

“Wishful thinking,
Jacque, wishful thinking.”

Gloria strode in wearing
a wide smile. Her petite rounded frame bounced with each step. Her boundless
energy coupled with an easy-going vibe always inspired Katrina. “Mmm, smells
wonderful!”

“Told you she would
arrive,” Jacque said as Katrina smiled and shook her head, thoroughly
impressed. “Well aren’t you chipper my dear!”

“I’m chipper for good
reason. I have the rest of the afternoon to relax. My job here is done until I
turn down the beds. The house is spotless, the rooms are prepared, and I just got
a call from my daughter that she’s met the boy of her dreams. Life is good.”

Katrina took a seat at
the island again and Gloria followed. “How old is Maisa again?”

“Twenty-one. The same
age I was when I met her father.”

“Ah yes, twenty-one. I
remember those days like yesterday. Back in Paris, back when I was without
this…” Jacque pointed down to his protruding belly.

“How do you feel about
her revelation?” Katrina asked. She hoped the young man Maisa had chosen was
worthy, but then again, does a woman really know? She thought she’d chosen
wisely only to be conned by her ex’s savvy reputation and deceiving charm. He
began their relationship with roses, wine, fine dining, and plenty of positive
attention that had soured the minute she’d agreed to move in with him. From
that point, a harsh comment here, a judgmental remark there, and her confidence
had slowly degraded until she was a shell of her former strong self.

“I think she’s a grown
woman now and I have to accept her decisions – but I still worry. At least
he has a promising job. Not like the last guy.”

Jacque slid the plates
into the warmer. “So you are smiling and happy, yet I still see lines of worry
on your forehead.” He frowned and shrugged his shoulders, “What is a mother to
do?”

“I know what will take
those worry lines away. A good meditation session with me on the beach,”
Katrina said with enthusiasm.

“But you just got back
from the beach.”

“Listen, the group will
be arriving any moment and lunch won’t be served for forty-five minutes. We
have plenty of time.”

Gloria stared. Katrina
could tell she was tempted. “Well, I could use some meditation to clear my mind
and put everything into perspective. Let’s do it.”

“I will be thinking of
you ladies as I whip this kitchen into a frenzy. Ah, je suis fou!” Jacque
clapped his hands and rubbed them in readiness. “And please, don’t be late for
lunch.”

Chapter Two

The
SUVs pulled up to the iron security gate and Damien, the driver of Cole’s
vehicle, punched in a code. The gate slowly receded and both SUVs entered the
long winding driveway. Cole gawked at the lavish landscaping that led to a
sprawling golf course at the right of the grand mansion. He could easily be a
tourist here, but this was business. From the passenger seat, he scanned the
perimeter of the grounds, making a mental note of the stone wall and the
security cameras hiding in the foliage at the gate. Looking in the side mirror,
he counted how long it took the rot-iron gate to close behind the second SUV.

“Wow, this place is awesome!” Jimmy
hopped up and down in his seat. His eleven-year-old energy was palpable.

“Not a bad home-away-from-home,”
Secretary Mitchell said. He looked over at the nanny, Trudy, and she nodded
eagerly.

“It certainly beats the snow,” she said
with a warm smile.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you
Dad?” Jimmy strained to look at his surroundings with excitement.

“Yes, son, with your Mom quite a while
ago when Mr. and Mrs. Winters first had the place built.”

Cole noticed the man’s attempt to hide his
melancholy for his son’s sake,
 
wondering if being here would be difficult for The Secretary
emotionally, having lost his wife three years ago.

“Mom must have loved it. Can we swim
lots?”

“Sure. And lots of golfing too, right?”

“Right!”

“I’d love to teach you a few things about
the game.”

“Can you teach me how to surf too?” Jimmy
asked.

“Um, well, we’ll see, Jimmy. I don’t
think your old man can even get to a standing position on a surfboard, but I’m
always willing to try anything once. Especially if you want me to.”

“Cool, I knew you’d be up for it, Dad!”
Jimmy bounced and patted Secretary Mitchell on the shoulder.

Cole found Jimmy’s energy amusing and
refreshing. He seemed so authentic and genuine. Cole had met other privileged
children along the way and this boy wasn’t spoiled in the least. Other’s seemed
to possess a sense of entitlement, but Jimmy was different. Secretary Mitchell
had done a great job in raising him under the circumstances of his wealth and
celebrity – and in the absence of a mother.

The SUVs came to rest at the top of a
roundabout beside the mansion’s entrance. Getting out, Cole stood aside,
looking around at the immediate area to take in the surroundings as he waited
for Trudy to exit. She looked about his age, with naturally wavy auburn hair
and little if any make-up. She was elegant in her simplicity none-the-less and
Cole wondered how long she’d been looking after Jimmy. She smiled at him and
gawked around in awe of the mansion’s beauty. Turning, she helped Jimmy out of
the truck and handed him his backpack.

“Don’t forget your hat, Sweetie,” she
said, passing it to him.

Jimmy scratched his head before yanking
the hat on snuggly. He slipped his arms through the straps of the backpack. He
wore faded jeans, a purple tee shirt, and sneakers. He too looked around
inquisitively, and then his eyes came to rest on Cole. “Wow, you’re big!” His
candidness caught Cole off guard and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m gonna
eat whatever you eat if it means I get to be that tall one day. How tall are
you anyway?”

“Six-four. Just keep doing what you’re
doing, kid,” Cole advised.

Secretary Mitchell was the last to leave
the vehicle. Cole swept the area with his eyes, following procedure, and
watched as the slight man walked toward the house. He nodded at Cole as he
went, unmistakably uncomfortable with the level of security on this family
holiday. Secretary Mitchell had apologized for inconveniencing the Secret
Service twice while en route from the airport. Cole had tried to put him at
ease, assuring him it was his pleasure to keep them safe.

The group congregated in the main foyer
and then traveled up the grand staircase to the bedrooms while Cole remained in
the foyer with Agent Kensing. Cole could sense his partner’s growing anxiety.

“What’d the briefing say?” Agent Kensing
asked curtly.

“Staff quarters are behind the kitchen.”

“Seems a little far from our assignments
if you ask me.”

Cole shrugged, not quite sure how to answer.
He could already tell working with Agent Kensing was going to be work itself.
As they passed through the kitchen, the tremendous smell of cooking hit them
like a blow to the senses. Cole’s mouth began to water at the prospect of
lunch.

Finally alone in his fair-sized room,
Cole set his small black suitcase down on the double bed. Unzipping the edges,
he flipped the top back to expose the meticulously packed clothes. He gently
lifted each piece from the case and laid them into the open dresser drawer. He
hung the linen button-downs up with care, aware that he would have to iron them
later this evening when he traded off with Agent Kensing. Having gone to
private schools for most of his life, the precision of personal grooming was
ingrained. Cole took pride in his appearance. His parents had hoped he would
pursue a career in law or politics – but he’d had other plans. He’d
fallen in love with the idea of the Green Berets and the Secret Service since
reading his very first adventure book as a boy. Fighting crime wasn’t just for
superheroes.

Cole’s unpacking was interrupted by a
brief knock. Without waiting for an answer, Agent Kensing opened the door and
stood in the frame. “We should do a briefing recap and walk the perimeter while
everyone’s getting settled in. We need a lay of the land.” Once again, it was a
demand.

“Yes, of course, Tom,” Cole said
casually.

Agent Kensing held up a hand. “No, not
good…” he paused, closing his eyes briefly and sneering. “The name’s Thomas. I
detest Tom. In fact, let’s make it Agent Kensing so people around here
understand our level of professionalism.”