Tutor, Nanny, Spit-up, Spy
Page 6
Brent took the phone from her and scrolled through the Dot feeds one more time before opening the door. They slipped out into the hall and made their way back through the darkened house.
“That was exciting,” Emily said, once they were in her room. Her heart was still pounding. “What happens now that we’ve Bluejacked him?”
“Bluejacking exploits his Bluetooth signal. With your phone paired to his, if he gets a call, your phone will ring too. When you pick up the call on your phone, you can record it and send it to me for translation.”
“They won’t be able to hear me?”
“No.”
“What about texts?”
“You’ll get them too.”
Emily took a deep breath. “Okay, cool. I’ll send you everything I get.”
Brent rested a hand on her shoulder, briefly, and then headed for the window. “Thanks for helping with the security cams.”
* * *
The next day, Emily was tired. The children, however were better rested and therefore full of energy. Mrs. Gonzalez had a brunch to attend, so Emily was left to oversee breakfast. She managed to slip Brent a text message between Mateo working his tray off his highchair and Juan begging for another serving of food.
If you were to just happen to show up early… my sanity would be appreciative.
A quarter of an hour later, Emily was relieved to see Hincha, the guard she hadn’t yet observed much, show Brent in.
“Oh, hello!” she said, looking up from trying to coax Mateo into a few more bites of his breakfast. “You’re early!” She hoped her eyes conveyed a huge “thank you!”
Brent just grinned and draped his messenger bag over the back of one of the chairs, pulling it out at an angle and sitting down to begin chatting conversationally with his two pupils. Daniel paid rapt attention to Brent’s every word, leaving just Mateo for Emily to contend with.
I am so glad he came.
The meal ended peacefully and the older two scampered to the school room ahead of Brent, eager to begin the day’s lessons.
“What exactly did you tell them was on the schedule for today?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow as she cleaned Mateo’s messy face. “I wasn’t listening to your conversation too closely thanks to Mr. Silly, here.”
“Ah, well…” Brent cleared his throat as he rose from his seat and gathered his bag. “Besides the three Rs, I promised to show them basic map-reading and orienteering.”
“I see,” Emily said, nodding and trying to hide her smirk. “Sounds like a very well-rounded education, Mr. Peters.”
Brent coughed, and she got the distinct feeling he was covering a laugh. “That’s my hope, Miss Tessier.”
Movement at the entrance to the dining room caught Emily’s eye and she half-turned to find the guard again approaching.
“Telephone for you, Miss,” he said, handing her a wireless handset.
“Oh… thank you!” Emily said, a bit surprised.
“It is Senora Gonzalez,” the guard clarified.
Emily put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Yes, Miss Tessier, I thought of something I’d like you to check for me.”
“Of course! What is it?”
“Daniel has a habit of losing one or the other of his shoes. Would you make sure both shoes he wore yesterday are put away in his room? I cannot remember and it’s distracting me. I’d want to be able to find them in a hurry, if needed.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that. I’m heading up there to get his shoes anyway so he can have some playtime in the yard while it’s still in morning shade.”
“Thank you, Miss Tessier.”
“Absolutely.” Emily said goodbye and ended the call, handing the phone back to the waiting guard.
“Thank you—Hincha, was it?” she said politely.
The guard’s eyes went cold and steely and he tightened his jaw. To Emily’s left, Brent gave a strangled cough. Without a word, Hincha turned on his heel. His cell phone rang as he strode out of the room.
Emily glanced at Brent as a stream of loud, frustrated-sounding Spanish floated back to them from the exiting guard. Brent winced and grimaced.
“Br—Mr. Peters, what did I say wrong? What’s he so upset about? What’s he saying?”
Brent tipped his head, listening as the man’s voice grew fainter. After a moment, he replied. “Well, for starters you called him by the nickname his fellow guards gave him: Hincha.”
“It’s not his actual last name?”
“No, it’s a word that means ‘fan.’”
“Like… the kind that moves air or the ‘fan-boy’ type?”
“Uh, yeah, more in the fan-boy sense. I think they’re picking on him by calling him Hincha.”
“And the phone call?”
“It went something like, ‘Why would you introduce me as Fan-boy. It should have been Lopez—my last name—like the rest of you. Just because I make my life around this family and serving my country with everything, you give me this nickname! I love my country and would do anything for Senor Gonzalez—I’m loyal to the death. Is that now a bad thing?”
“He doesn’t like them call him Hincha,” Daniel observed quietly.
“I can tell,” Brent said, nodding.
“He does talk much about leal, though.” The little boy shook his head.
“He talks about being loyal a lot?” Brent asked, raising his eyebrows at Emily.
The little boy nodded.
“Methinks he dost protest too much,” Emily murmured.
Brent just nodded thoughtfully.
Juan stuck his head into the dining room. “Are you coming, Mr. Peters?”
“Yes, I am. Go get your schoolbooks out. Open up to that long-division. We’ll get the worst over first. Then the maps.”
The boy nodded and disappeared back around the corner.
Brent motioned slightly for Emily to follow him. Daniel bounded ahead just a ways, and Brent spoke in an undertone.
“ICS got a hit on Duarte. He has heavy gambling debts, so—”
“Ohhh… that makes him susceptible to bribes and payoffs and such,” Emily whispered, nodding sagely. That’s how it always works in the movies. She frowned. “But still, I could hardly see him being willing to assassinate Mr. Gonzalez.”
Brent nodded, looking thoughtful. “The more I observe him, the more I’m inclined to agree with you. I think I’ll advise ICS to take a deeper look at Hincha. It does feel like he’s trying to overcompensate for something.”
Chapter 13
Emily was relieved when Mrs. Gonzalez came home from her brunch. She still felt tired and behind on sleep after her late-night spying escapade with Brent. The two little boys seemed happy to see their mother, staying close by her as they, along with Emily, played in the upstairs loft, the contents of a basket of children’s toys scattered around them.
Emily found herself helping Daniel build a block tower while Mrs. Gonzalez read a book aloud. Mateo sat on his mother’s lap attempting to turn the pages too quickly, as usual. When the book was over, he wriggled, wanting to be off his mother’s lap.
“All right,” the woman said, setting him down on the carpet. “But no stairs for you.”
Emily smiled. The baby apparently had a reputation. He pulled up on the edge of the loveseat on which his mother sat and cruised along it. The more steps he took, the more excited he became. He paused to clap at his own progress, knocking himself down.
“Uh-oh!” Mrs. Gonzalez said, making a funny face at him. He rolled over, pushed up to sitting, and then pulled himself back up to a standing position. “He’s the most interested in walking so young,” she said. “His brothers and sister were not this early.”
Emily shook her head. “It must be a challenge for you with him being this busy—and number four!”
The other woman laughed and nodded. “Why do you think we’ve hired a nanny? You’re right that it’s challenging. It is good though. I love them.” She smiled down at the baby.
The intercom box on the wall came to life, and one of the guards spoke. “Senora Gonzalez, your husband wishes me to inform you he will be delayed coming home. He sends apologies.”
Mrs. Gonzalez got up from the loveseat and pressed the talk button on the intercom. “Thank you, Moreno,” she said.
Emily perked up. Before she could talk herself out of it, she got further into character and blurted out.
“Moreno. He’s the guard with the really—I don’t know—piercing stare? Does it ever make you uncomfortable?”
Mrs. Gonzalez laughed, returning to her seat. “He is—intense.” Mateo knocked himself down again, and his mother helped him up. “He spent a long time as a sniper in Colombia. I don’t think those days are easily erased from his looks and manner.”
Emily nodded in agreement. She’d already known he had been a sniper.
“But,” the woman continued, “he is a good man and a good guard. He’s known my husband since they were boys—he’s like an older brother to him.”
“Wow! They’ve known each other that long?” Emily asked, processing the possible ramifications of this. “Moreno doesn’t mind that your husband has risen through the political ranks, then?”
“Mind? No.” Mrs. Gonzalez chuckled. “He is the one who coached my husband on speaking—giving speeches.”
“Oh, wow! I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“He’s very protective of my husband and us by extension. It is good to have him along.”
Emily’s opinion of the steely-eyed sniper had very much improved, and she was glad she’d found a way to get Mrs. Gonzalez’s opinion of the man.
By the time the littler two were down for naps, Emily was beginning to feel sleepy herself. She decided she’d better stay busy. She headed to the schoolroom to see if she could be of any help to Brent.
Brent called out when she stepped through the doorway. “Watch out for Pluto’s orbit!”
“What?” She froze and cocked her head. Brent, Juan, and Sofia were on their hands and knees, crawling about the room, laying concentric circles of yarn on the wood floor.
“What are you guys doing?” she asked.
Sofia scrambled to her feet and hopped over string, making her way toward Emily. “It’s not just the guys,” she said. “It’s me, too. We are making the solar system.”
“Oh!” Emily nodded, regarding the yarn all over the floor in a new light. “Well, that’s creative. Do you guys—and you too, Sofia—need any help?”
Brent grinned up at her. “Sure! Can you write out the planet names on little pieces of paper? We’ll need to label each orbit.”
Emily nodded and sat down in one of the chairs at the study table, gathering a blank piece of paper and a pencil.
“Senor Peters’ teaching is fun,” Juan said, looking across the room at her.
“He’s not your average tutor, is he?” Emily answered, smiling at the boy. She knew Brent would appreciate the double-meaning, since he wasn’t a tutor at all. “I’m glad you’re having fun even if this is an unusual way of learning about the solar system.”
“Hey,” Brent said, rocking back on his heels and winding up the leftover yarn. “It’s similar to how I learned it.”
“Really?” Emily said skeptically. “What school did you go to?”
“Still Waters Christian School,” Brent answered, his dancing eyes telling her there was more to the story.
Great, now my brain is going to spend the rest of the day trying to guess what’s behind that answer.
“I had to come see this for myself.” The young guard, Morales, stood in the doorway, leaning against one side with his arms folded. He flashed Emily a brilliant smile.
“Hey, Romeo!” Brent said, standing up.
“Br—andon Peters!” Emily cried, whirling on him.
Yikes! Nearly slipped out of character there.
“Don’t make me have to nanny you, too!” she hissed. “Quit teasing the poor guy by calling him Romeo! He’s just being friendly!”
Brent blinked rapidly, and then a far-too-amused smirk spread over his face. “But, Miss Tessier, his name is Romeo. Romeo Morales. Don’t you remember him introducing himself to you?”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. “What—?” She frowned at Brent, trying to figure out if he was messing with her or if he was serious. Despite the crazy twinkle in his eyes and his extreme level of amusement, there was nothing to indicate he wasn’t serious.
“It’s true, Miss Tessier—although perhaps you didn’t hear me because baby Mateo spilled milk just as I was introducing myself.” The young guard approached, stepping carefully over the yarn “orbits” of the solar system. He was smiling at her again, not like she was amusing—no, that was Brent’s go-to—but in a friendly, charming way.
Emily cleared her throat. “Oh, I—um. I’m so sorry.” She turned to Brent. “I thought you were—” She waved her hands and then turned back to Romeo Morales. “I thought he was—”
“Referring to the infamous Romeo of Shakespeare?” the young guard finished her sentence.
Emily nodded reluctantly. She caught Sofia staring from her to Romeo, to Brent, and back again.
Oh, gracious. That girl has an overactive imagination.
Well, I’m one to talk. I did assume Romeo was being that kind of Romeo.
No, Sofia, I’m not ‘going on a date’ with either one of these guys!
She sighed and rubbed her face with both hands. “Let’s start over, shall we? I’m Emily Tessier, nanny.” She extended a hand for Romeo to shake.
“And I’m Romeo Morales, bodyguard.” He took her hand, turned it over, and kissed it lightly like they were in a Shakespearean play.
Sofia squealed and Brent cleared his throat. Emily felt her face redden.
Oh, so maybe he is a bit like his namesake?
Romeo stepped back and turned his attention to the children. “Are you two behaving?” he asked. “Being good for your tutor and nanny?”
“Yes, Senor Morales,” Juan said.
“And being good for your mama? Always be good for your mama. You never know how long you’ll have her.” The young guard was suddenly very serious—almost stern.
Brent cleared his throat again, and exchanged glances with Emily, before saying, “Hey, Romeo, isn’t that a little dark for kids?”
The guard frowned and tipped his head. “The real world is the real world.” He wandered back out of the room, looking deep in thought.
“So, that got weird,” Brent whispered to Emily.
“Tell me about it!”
Chapter 14
When the solar system lesson was finished, Brent told the children to meet him outside in the yard. “I brought something cool to show you,” he said.
They scampered out of the room, leaving Emily and him alone. “Do you think I should tell ICS to look more closely at Romeo?” Brent asked in a whisper as he packed his things into his messenger bag.
Emily thought a moment and then nodded slowly. “Yes, it wouldn’t hurt. What he said was definitely off. And from the conversation I had with Mrs. Gonzalez, I don’t think Moreno is our man.”
As they walked down the hall toward the French doors leading outside, she explained, in an undertone, what she and the children’s mother had discussed. When they’d reached the doors, Emily hesitated, checking her watch.
“I really should go get the little boys up from their naps,” she said.
“We’ll wait for you,” Brent told her. “I want you to see this, too.”
Emily hurried upstairs. “Mr. Peters has something cool to show us outside,” she told Daniel and Mateo. She put the little boys’ shoes on them and then took them downstairs.
Brent, Juan, and Sofia were waiting in the shade of the porch. Emily joined them, holding Ma
teo on her hip.
“Okay, you bigger three,” Brent said, “stand in the middle of the grass!”
They hurried to do as he’d said.
“It’s fine if the baby sees,” Brent said quietly to Emily. “He won’t be able to tell anyone.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and opened an app. The screen immediately filled with a shot of scrubby desert landscape and the top of a van.
“Is that your—?”
Brent nodded. Working the controls at the sides of the screen, he made the camera rise up in the air until the van was visible, as a white rectangle against the sandy, scrubby landscape of a desert wash.
He has a drone!
Emily watched as he flew it forward. In another moment, she saw green grass and nicely trimmed hedges.
That’s this property!
She hurried to the edge of the porch and looked up at the sky. Sure enough, a small, black quad-copter drone flew in silently and circled high over the heads of the children.
They squealed and clapped, exclaiming excitedly in Spanish.
“Is that yours, Senor Peters?” Juan shouted. “What do we call it?”
Brent nodded, grinning like a kid himself. “Yes, it’s my drone. Want to try flying it a bit?”
The boy’s eyes grew wide and he nodded, running to where he stood. Brent showed him how to work the controls and guided him in flying a few laps around the yard. Sofia then had to have a turn.
When she was done, Brent took the controls back and grinned sideways at Emily. “Just don’t tell Santa I let a couple kids play with thousands of dollars-worth of spy drone,” he whispered.
Emily hid a laugh behind her hand.
Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared from the house. The children ran toward the porch, and Emily hurried to cover Mateo’s ears against the loud noise.
“What is it?” she shouted.
“The emergency alarm system,” Juan yelled over the noise. “Why aren’t the guards saying what it is for?” He glanced up at the intercom speaker in the porch ceiling. “They’re supposed to announce!”
“Something’s wrong,” Brent said grimly, taking charge. “Juan, take Sofia’s hand and come with us. Daniel, c’mon, buddy.” He swung Daniel into his arms and exchanged a concerned look with Emily.