Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) (16 page)

“You’d be in danger?” She leaned toward him, her heart pounding. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’ll be a lightning rod, that’s all. I’m protected by Justin and Miriam, who hired me, but I’ll need to watch my back.”

“Why not just do all the work from here, then?”

“Because I need to talk with people, watch their faces and body language as I grill them about intrusions from their password-protected accounts. There’s no substitute for face-to-face.”

“So you and I can meet here and at my apartment but not be seen in public or on campus?”
I hate it already
.

“Feels like sneaking around, doesn’t it? I’m sorry it has to be that way. But at least we’re together.”

“Are we?”

“We are at this moment.” With a penetrating gaze and an uneasy smile, he reached for her hands. “We’ll see each other and spend time together. Privately. As much as we can.”

Lyssa closed her eyes and let the warmth and strength of his touch rally her. “I understand it has to be this way. I do hate it. I just had to say that. And I guess I ought not talk with Rand at all, for fear of letting something slip.”

A knock sounded at the inside door to Kyle’s suite. “Are you up?”

“Out here, Justin. Door’s unlocked. Pour a coffee and join us.”

Justin jolted to a stop at the sight of Lyssa on the patio with Kyle. His face was inscrutable as he calmly helped himself to a mug of coffee and smoothly asked, “Shall I bring the pot with me?”

Seriously?
He’d wasted no time on anger
.
I need to learn that
. “Yes, please,” Lyssa said.

Kyle winked. “Cheeky.”

She blushed and added a lilt to her voice. “Good morning, Justin.”

He stood before them and shot daggers at each of them in turn.

Lyssa broke the silence. “Just to be clear, I did not spend the night. The towel around my feet and those soggy Crocs are proof that I walked through the dew from Lakeside Terrace minutes ago.” She unwound the towel and used it to dry her shoes.

“I ask that the two of you behave with decorum in our home.” Justin clipped each word.

“Most definitely, old chap.”

Lyssa nodded her agreement. “I’ve been telling Kyle what I know about the grade fixing, from a conversation with Rand Cunningham.”

Justin directed his eagle-eyed gaze at her. “Is Rand involved?”

“He’s definitely rattled by it or by its discovery. He made a long, stormy phone call as soon as he possibly could after Professor Anton stopped to tell him about it.”

Justin set down the carafe and took a seat. His gaze left Lyssa’s face and swept down the lawn to the lake.

Lyssa noted the water’s blue-gray color deepening in the early light.

“Different every morning,” Justin murmured.

“Yes, always changing,” she said.

“Beautiful spot, Justin,” Kyle said.

Justin sipped his coffee. “Good brew for a Brit.”

Lyssa pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh.

“Have a slice of this date-nut loaf, Justin,” Kyle said.

Lyssa held out the plate to him.

When Justin waved it away, Kyle said, “Thanks for stocking the little kitchen.”

“We want you to be comfortable.” He nodded his appreciation as Kyle refilled their mugs. “Lyssa, is Rand friend or foe?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, but I’m leaning toward foe.”

“Let’s hope not. He’s a bright light at the college. But he may be a pawn, and that is concerning.”

“Lyssa was saying she’ll want to avoid Rand and keep her head down, as though she has no knowledge of any of this. We’re also planning not to be seen together in public.”

“That last bit is wise. For the rest, though, they say to hold your friends close and your enemies closer.” Justin looked hard at Lyssa. “You could be our eyes and ears with Rand and some other faculty who may be involved in this thing.”

She opened her mouth, but Kyle’s protest beat hers. “Out of the question. I want her safely out of the line of fire, Justin.”

“What do you say, Lyssa?”

“I don’t fancy being a snitch my first semester on the job.”

“Good point.” Justin folded his hands. “On the other hand, everyone at the college will take sides once they see that all the network accounts are being scrutinized. You’ll have to declare your stand, and it’s natural for you, as a new professor, to be worried about what’s happening and to ask others how they see it.”

Lyssa raised her eyebrows. “As always, Justin, you’re way ahead of me.” She heard the edge in her voice and bit off a sarcastic comment.
He is my boss.

“Not always, my dear, but this time.”

“Tell us what you have in mind for Lyssa.” Kyle’s tone was cautionary.

“Lyssa is still learning names and faces, and she can boldly approach people to introduce herself. It’s her natural style. After telling about her grant and her work with the media center, she might ask for advice about grading practices, or things she should be on guard about. That sort of thing. Some faculty are likely to be forthcoming with her. Others will be offended or annoyed. A few, however, will be ready for her. Knowing she’s sort-of-related to me, they’ll cleverly probe for every bit of information she might have. Those few are the ones we want to identify.”

“What information could I possibly have?”

“They might think you know whom we suspect or what traps we’re setting or what we’re planning to do to the guilty parties.” He waited for her to nod her understanding before adding, “The real point is, we may not know who they are until they try to manipulate the little snitch to their own advantage. Then you’ll tell us who does that. Do you see?”

“Oh, lovely.” Lyssa folded her arms across her chest.

Kyle exchanged a look with Justin and told her, “We do need to know who those people are, luv. Justin’s right. You could be a big help.” He set down his mug and leaned close but stopped short of touching her hand.

Lyssa did a slow burn.
Justin, the master manipulator
.
Her chest heaved with each breath as she gave Justin a murderous look.

“Exactly,” Justin said. “Provoking a reaction in those few will give Kyle more data.”

She felt Kyle’s gaze on her as she sucked little breaths though her teeth. “I hate it,” she hissed.

“You don’t have to do it, luv,” Kyle said.

Justin sat back with a huff.

Her voice shrill, she challenged Justin. “Would you ask Gianessa to do it?”

“No, my dear.” He set down his mug with a chuckle. “Gianessa would have suggested it first.”

Kyle’s shoulders hunched around his ears as he crossed the dark, deserted quad. The situation grew tenser every day.

Lyssa had dutifully assumed the role of snitch and, despite her success flushing out three potential violators in the first week, the ruse made her tense and crabby.

Every time they met at her apartment for a meal or on his patio for breakfast, he gave her a neck-and-shoulder massage or a foot massage. Otherwise, he was sure, their covert times together would not have ended with laughter and kisses. It wasn’t how he’d envisioned their time together in Tompkins Falls, but for now it would have to do.

Last evening, Lyssa had confessed that, by coaxing her into a better mood, he was doing for her what she’d done for him in London every workweek. Until she’d said that, he hadn’t realized what a bear he’d been during their year together in the UK.

He’d made her promise to tell him, after this, if he was being a grouch. She’d only agreed if
he
vowed to do the same.

If there is a silver lining, it’s that we’re communicating a bit better.

His job, on the other hand, got darker every day. The biggest surprise to date was the refusal of the Chief Information Officer, Craig Marone, to cooperate. The three of them—Miriam, Justin, and Kyle—took it as an admission of guilt. Marone probably knew his days were numbered and was stalling until he lined up his next job.

Kyle had asked Justin and Miriam to find out all they could about Marone’s habits, friends, and network. They’d learned next to nothing, except that two names were frequently put forth as Marone’s campus friends: Jim Tully and Rand Cunningham.

Everything about Kyle’s meeting tonight with Jim Tully had annoyed him, from “Can’t meet with you until six-fifteen” to his parting shot of “Good luck with your witch hunt.”

The man’s a snake
.
Even has cold, beady eyes
.

Kyle drew out his phone as he reached the asphalt parking lot. He intended to call Lyssa as soon as he got in the car, and ask if she’d ever met Tully and what she thought of him.

“Bloody hell!” The back tires of his rental were flat. He squatted down to take a closer look. The hand pump in the boot wouldn’t do the job. The tires had been slashed.

“Trouble?” a jovial voice asked.

Kyle muttered a prayer before rising to his full height and offering an untroubled smile. “I was about to call the help line for the rental firm. Someone’s flattened my tires.” He took the man’s measure—taller than him by an inch or so, younger by eight or so years, in decent shape. He pocketed his phone.

Perfect white teeth smiled at him. “I’m Rand Cunningham.”

At last we meet.
Kyle shook the outstretched hand.
Soft hands, strong grip
. “Kyle Pennington.”

“Like a ride, Kyle?”

“Thanks very much. I’m staying just south of the marina, if that’s not too far out of your way.”

Rand gestured to a white two-seater a few down from Kyle’s rental. “Not much happening on campus at this hour. Lucky for you I’m just coming from a meeting of my student poets.”

“Yes, lucky.” Kyle didn’t believe a word. Nor did he want to waste this opportunity to learn about the chap Lyssa had been dating. “Are there many poets in your group?”

“One with real promise, two of his groupies, and a handful of others who just like to write poems.”

He’s got all the answers
. “Keen sports car,” Kyle said as he clicked his seatbelt. “What kind?”

“Mazda Miata. I’ve had it just over a year now.” Rand revved the engine and shot backwards out of his space. He exited the lot and took the turns of the campus roadways at twice the posted limit.

“Handles well, does it?” Kyle gripped the seat with his right hand.

“My girlfriend Lyssa says it is like flying a kite on the breeze.”

Ouch
. But that tallied with the thrill-seeking side of Lyssa. “I’m surprised you let her drive it.”

Rand’s gaze darted to Kyle’s face, and he chuckled.

They sped along a deserted street with abandoned mills on one side, punctuated by empty parking lots.

“Turn right at the marina,” Kyle directed, “and we’ll take the state highway two miles or so to the south.” He breathed a sigh of relief when Rand did as he’d said. “You’ll take a left at the lighted pillars coming up shortly. Or you can drop me at the road, if you prefer.”

“Ah, the Cushman house.”

“You know the place?”

“Long, curving driveway through the woods, as I recall.” Rand swung the car onto Justin’s driveway and pressed the high beams. “You’d never find your way in the dark, would you?” There was a touch of glee in his menacing tone.

“What did you think of the house?”

“Impressive view. I was here for a new-faculty reception last fall. And again, shortly after, when Justin introduced me to a woman he knew. Beautiful, but no sparks. Gwen something.”

“Yes, well, fate seems to have its own agenda.”
Justin really needs some lampposts on this road
.
And if I find out Justin introduced Lyssa and Rand, there will be hell to pay.

Rand took the curves of the dark driveway at a prudent pace. As they crested the hill and started their descent toward the house, he growled, “You’re the guy that broke Lyssa’s heart, aren’t you?”

Kyle tensed reflexively.
Had he?
Had she told Rand that?
“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, leave her alone.” Rand braked to a stop. “Finish your business here and good riddance to you.”

They were at a wide point in the drive, the house not yet visible. Kyle thought they were still a hundred yards short of it. Rain spattered the windshield as he studied the drive ahead, making a mental map of the curves he could see.

“I plan to marry Lyssa next summer,” Rand told him.

Shock paralyzed Kyle with his hand on the door handle.

“That was your cue to get out of my car.”

Kyle extracted himself from the two-seater. “Thanks, and good luck to you, Rand.” Kyle closed the passenger door without quite latching it.
And may the door-open alert drive you insane
.

A soft
bong
repeated at one-second intervals. Rand jerked the car through a three-point turn, narrowly missing Kyle, and laid rubber as he sped off.

Stupid schoolboy
. Kyle resisted the urge to give him the finger and, instead, kept himself oriented to his mental map of the driveway. There wasn’t a hint of light anywhere.

Willing the burdens of the day to drop from his shoulders, he put one foot in front of the other.

Crickets chirped on his left. “Think it’s funny, do you?” Frogs set up a chorus of ribbits. Kyle laughed in spite of himself.

Lyssa’s phone snapped her out of a daydream about Kyle.

“Good, you’re there,” Rand said with so much cheer she wondered if he’d been drinking.

“And where are you?”

“Outside your place. Come down and we’ll grab a coffee.”

“No thanks.”

“Then I’ll come up.”

In your dreams
. “No.”

“Be that way. I wanted to see your face when I told you I’d warned off the bastard that broke your heart.”