“That’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.”
“Well it’s true. Your cooking puts mine to shame.”
“So that’s why you’re so grumpy.”
“I’m sorry.” Her contrite little voice made him want to wrap her in his arms.
“Tell me what Trina had to say.”
It took her a minute to answer because she had started making inroads on her eggs.
“Mark Owens is Daniel Ludlow’s brother-in-law, Bryan’s uncle.”
Rand paused in the act of drinking his orange juice. “What an interesting twist.”
“That’s what I thought. Apparently he took his wife and children on a two month vacation in Europe. When they get back, Mark is going to be Daniel’s campaign manager for the gubernatorial race.”
“Maybe Bryan has it in for his uncle as well as his father.”
“I’m worried about that, too. Trina’s pretty sure Bryan broke in his aunt and uncle’s house as soon as they left on their trip and has been living there without anyone having a clue. No telling what he might have gotten up to since the house has been vacated.”
“Maybe his accomplice is staying there with him.”
“That’s what we’re going to find out. How are you at washing windows?”
He smiled, already loving Plan B. “I did my fair share growing up.”
“Then you’re hired.”
“Who are we?”
“We’re Ray and Lois,” she said on a definitive tone. Her talent for creating clever fronts never ceased to amaze him. “Twice a year we clean the Owens’s walls, woodwork and windows.”
Rand had to admit it was a brilliant plan. “When we walk in uninvited, Bryan Ludlow won’t be able to question our right to be there because he isn’t supposed to be on the premises himself.”
“That’s right.” She darted him one of her impish smiles. “Of course being the teenage ‘con’ that he is, he’ll come up with some plausible explanation why he’s there. If his ‘friend’ is present, we’ll all do a little dance around each other and get real chummy.”
“I presume this project will take us several days to accomplish.”
She nodded. “Trina says it’s a big house.”
A feeling of exultation swept through Rand. As long as the case wasn’t solved, he had a reason to be underfoot day and night. He needed more time to ingratiate himself so Annabelle wouldn’t ever want him to leave. What made him nervous was the speed with which she accomplished her objective.
“Does Trina know the layout?”
“Yes. She’s been to a lot of their parties with Bryan. Any service people enter through a door on the side of the house. We’ll start cleaning one room at a time so we can plant listening devices. I’ll show you how to hide them.”
Rand could only shake his head in wonder. She was almost scary the way she moved in for the kill. Would that he were her quarry.
“One of the guys from the office will park the mobile unit down the street from the Owens’s home so he can monitor all conversations and tape them. I think that covers everything, except for my job as a night technician for Dunbarton’s which is no longer a necessity.”
Rand finished off the rest of coffee cake before responding.
“Don’t worry about the distinction of being the employee with the shortest work record in company history. I’ll fix it with Howard as soon as I know he’s in the office.”
“How?” She gazed at him expectantly.
“I’ll tell him that I was looking over the résumés of the technicians and felt that his newest employee’s talents were wasted in the Salt Lake office. Then I’ll explain that I phoned Mrs. Black to offer her an engineering job in the Phoenix office, and she accepted it.”
“Thank you.”
Annabelle’s sheepish look was priceless.
“Speaking of jobs,” he muttered, “when you’ve solved the Ludlow case, how would you like to take on an even bigger assignment?”
Her sheepish look suddenly turned to one of bewilderment. “What do you mean?”
Taking a calculated risk he said, “I mean, how would you like to become the head of security for the Dunbarton Corporation?”
“You mentioned that before. I thought you were kidding.”
“Not at all,” Rand assured her. “You could still live in Salt Lake and work for Roman, but between cases you could commute to Phoenix where you would have your own office and staff to oversee security problems within the company. You might like the challenge as well as the change in scene.”
“You can’t possibly be serious.”
“Why? You don’t think you’re good enough?”
She shifted her gaze to her plate.
“In case you need proof of your worth, I’ll be happy to replay the tape of your job interview with Howard.”
With her head still bent she muttered, “Even if I thought you weren’t joking, I haven’t done the job I was hired to do for you yet.”
Why was her voice shaking?
He hoped it was because she was as excited as he was at the prospect of their working together once the business with Bryan Ludlow had been cleared up. At least she hadn’t give him a flat-out no.
“It’s only a matter of time,” he commented mildly, “but you don’t have to give me an answer right now. I just want you to think about it.”
“Oh—there’s the phone!” she cried out as if she’d never heard one ring before. “Excuse me a moment.” She flew to the kitchen.
Rand cleared the table before following her. While he loaded the dishwasher, she conducted a rather hushed conversation with her back turned to him.
Luckily it was the wall phone and not her cellular, so she couldn’t walk away. From the sounds of it, the call was personal. He heard the name Gerard used several times.
How important is he to you, Annabelle?
For the first time in his life Rand was hit by an attack of sheer, unadulterated jealousy, the kind Shakespeare’s Othello must have felt when he thought Desdemona had been unfaithful to him.
Rand had seen the play done on numerous occasions, but he’d never understood just how destructive that emotion could be, never having been forced to deal with it before. For two cents he’d grab the phone away from Annabelle and tell Gerard to go take a permanent leap!
Just once she half turned, flashing Rand a look that probably said she’d like to be alone. He pretended not to see it and kept busy cleaning up the kitchen.
As soon as she hung up the receiver he said, “If that was Janet, I hope you let her know that I told you about the faxes she sent you yesterday.”
“I forgot about those,” she mumbled. “That was Gerard, one of the PI’s.”
“How come he didn’t call you on your cellular?”
“Because he knows I reserve it for business.”
“I’m sorry,” Rand said, trying to interject the right amount of remorse in his tone. “If I had known it was personal, I wouldn’t have come in. I figured that if we were going to start cleaning house later today, I’d better do your dishes first.”
“It’s all right, Rand.”
“No, I don’t think it is. Did he somehow find out I’ve been staying here? Has it caused complications for you? If so, I’ll be happy to explain the truth to him.”
In fact it would give Rand the greatest pleasure to let Gerard know exactly how things were going to stand with Annabelle from here on out.
“No. It’s nothing like that. We dated some, but it’s been over for quite a while.”
Lord. So she had been involved with someone else. The knowledge hit him like a blow to his gut.
“But he didn’t get the point until just now, is that it?” Rand’s voice rasped.
“No. Our relationship wasn’t like that.”
“So how was it?”
“If you must know, he’s still in love with his dead wife.”
And you’re in love with me, Annabelle. One of these days I’m going to get you
to admit it.
The news about Gerard shouldn’t have made Rand so euphoric. It sounded like he and the bereaved widower had a lot in common, the only difference being that fortunately for Rand, Annabelle was still very much alive.
“It’s probably just as well that you and I have a physically taxing job before us today. Hard manual labor puts the rest of the world into the proper perspective. Do you want me to go pick up the supplies we’ll need? I’ll phone Howard at the same time and inform him of Mrs. Black’s new status with the company.”
She looked like she was in some sort of daze. He didn’t think the crack female PI who made up part of Roman Lufka’s renowned private investigative staff got into this state very often. As far as Rand was concerned, he would do everything in his power to keep her off balance until she caved in and came running.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you. I want to shower and answer those faxes.”
“Do whatever you need to do. I won’t be back for at least an hour. One thing I should ask before I go. Do you want me to pick you up a pair of rubber gloves?”
By the incredulous look on her face, his question was the last thing she would ever have imagined him asking.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never used them.”
He smiled. “I just wanted to be sure. My mother never attacked her housework without them.”
CHAPTER SIX
AS SOON as the siren went off, Annabelle knew Rand had gone and it was safe to dash downstairs. She read Janet’s faxes, both of which asked her what was going on. How come she hadn’t phoned or faxed Janet back? Did it have anything to do with the P file?
The P stood for personal. It was a standing joke between them because nothing had gone on in either of their personal lives for such a long time, they both figured they would go to their graves old maids.
She turned on her computer and started typing a response. She could hardly see for the tears gushing from her eyes.
Dear J:
If you really want to know, I’m working on a case for my X-fiancé. That’s right. He’s in town. Take another deep breath.
And no—it’s not what you think.
One day when it’s not classified, I’ll tell you about it. Get this... He’s offered me the job of the century in Phoenix. Head of security. My own office. My own staff.
A child could figure out that he stopped seeing me as wife material a long time ago. I suppose I should be flattered that the Computer Man of the Year has decided my career isn’t so negligible after all, and can be put to some practical use.
Which goes to show he never understood me, otherwise he would realize head of security is not the position I had in mind. As of today, I’m permanently deleting the P file.
Love, A.
Since Rand had gone to the store in the rental car and all their equipment was in the back seat and trunk, he ended up driving them to the Owens’s house. En route, Annabelle showed him one of the listening devices and explained how to install it.
When they arrived at their destination at the south end of the valley, they discovered a large, attractive two-story mock-Tudor home. It was nestled in the foothills, partially hidden from the street by heavy foliage.
To gain entrance, they had to pass through a locked, wrought-iron gate. Annabelle used her master key to let them in, then Rand proceeded up the drive through the dense scrub oak.
Part of the private road veered to the right to form a circle at the front entrance. The other part ran along the side of the house and around the back where they could see a three car garage.
There was no sign of life.
At the side entrance Trina had alluded to, Rand pulled to a stop and shut off the ignition. “All right,” he said, turning in his seat to look at her. “We’ve come this far. Now what?”
Rand was such a natural at everything he did, she found it almost impossible to remember that he hadn’t always been one of Roman’s PI’s. If she weren’t so in love with him, she would be having the time of her life.
Avoiding his eyes she said, “We play it by ear from here on out. I’ll get us through the door and then we’ll start bringing in the equipment. The mobile unit will be along shortly disguised as a furniture delivery van.”
When his mouth curved into that smile which melted her bones, she couldn’t focus on anything. That never happened with a colleague. But therein lay the danger because Rand Dunbarton wasn’t a colleague. He was a breathtaking male. Despite the pain of the past, her desire, her love for him was stronger than ever.
She didn’t know how it had happened, but he seemed to have changed over the last year. It was Rand, but a different Rand. More laid-back. Mellow.
Living underfoot made him seem an integral part of her. Waking, sleeping, he was there haunting her, making her ache for all the things a woman in love wanted and needed from the man of her dreams.
He was the man of her dreams.
Her child’s world had been full of castles and princesses. Though she’d grown into a woman, her idealism hadn’t changed. The only difference now was that her dark-haired prince with the blindingly blue eyes had a recognizable face and wore modern day clothing. He was sitting next to her. If she reached out her hand, she could touch him.
“Let’s go,” she murmured. “We’ll just speak in our natural voices and see what happens.”
They both got out of the car at the same time. Rand’s eyes met hers over the roof. “I’m having so much fun, maybe I’ll ask Roman for a part-time job. Of course I’ll need references. If I don’t bungle this assignment too badly, maybe I can get you to put in a good word for me.”
“I’d be happy to.” Though she’d put on her brightest voice, she groaned inwardly. When she thought about it, Annabelle couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than being married to Rand, and living and working in Salt Lake with him. But that kind of dreaming only led to more heartache.
His compelling mouth curved upward, as if he could read her mind. Damn. “Where do you want to start, Lois?”
Dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans like herself, he followed her into the house carrying the stepladder and their supplies as if this were an everyday occurrence. She had to take another breath because the sight of him thrilled her too much.
He provided cover while she plugged a touch-tone decoder into the kitchen phone, then installed a CCD camera with audio camouflaged as a wall plate into an electrical outlet. The listening capability picked up conversation and transmitted it to the van parked down the street.
When she was finished she said, “I think we’ll tackle the living room first, since it’s the biggest job. If you’ll help me move the furniture away from the walls, I’ll begin cleaning while you attack the windows.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Arms loaded, they walked through several rooms to the traditionally furnished living room, a long rectangle with cove moldings and wainscoting throughout. Resting their things on the carpet, Annabelle bent down to install another camera with listening device in one of the outlets.
“How about a little music?” Rand produced a small boom box he’d purchased along with their equipment and turned it on to a popular rock station.
“Pure genius,” she mouthed the words at him. If Bryan were in the house, he would know it had been invaded by someone other than his aunt and uncle.
“We try,” he mouthed back with a wink.
She immediately bent over to pour the liquid cleaner into a bucket, but too late, she’d already reacted to his potent charm. Her heart had already received its jolt for the morning just being around him like this, and she would never be the same again.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched him get busy on the mullioned windows. He worked with effortless male grace. She marveled at his ability to adapt to any situation. A person could be forgiven for thinking he cleaned houses for a living and enjoyed it. She could stare at him for hours and derive the greatest
pleasu—
“Who are you guys?” a young man’s voice sounded in the room, jarring Annabelle from her fantasies. She almost dropped the sponge mop.
“Hi!” She smiled at him. “I’m Lois and this is Ray. We didn’t know your parents left any of you home from their European trip. Which one are you?”
Thanks to the pictures and information Trina had fed Annabelle, she not only recognized him as Bryan Ludlow, she’d learned enough background on the Owens family to bluff her way through this first meeting.
“I’m not a relation. My name’s Kevin. I live down the street. The Owens pay me to house-sit.” The tall, lanky, nice-looking blond teen dressed in sweats and a polo shirt lied without betraying the slightest sign of nervousness. “How did you get in?”
Rand must have heard the aggressiveness in the young man’s tone. He turned down the music and straightened to his full, intimidating height. No man of Annabelle’s acquaintance had a more authoritative presence than Rand whose protective instincts appeared to have come to the fore and were on full alert.
“Probably the same way you did,” he insinuated silkily. Annabelle actually felt kind of sorry for Bryan whose belligerent demeanor vanished immediately in the face of such unquestioned male dominance. “My wife and I clean this place twice a year.”
Wife?
Annabelle lowered the sponge end of the mop into the pail to cover her shock.
“Are you going to be here long?” There was a conciliatory change in Bryan’s attitude now.
“Probably two days. The Owens are going to put on a big political fund-raiser dinner when they get back, so we’ve been asked to give the place a thorough cleaning.”
The mention of that kind of a dinner lent veracity to Rand’s words, inflicting another chink in Bryan’s armor. His brown eyes slid away from Rand who’d gone back to the windows to clean them.
“If the music is bothering you, we’ll turn it off,” Annabelle volunteered brightly.
“Hey—” He spread his hands apart. “No problem. It’s cool that guys your age listen to metal.”
“Yeah?” Rand grinned at him. “I was a guitarist with a rock band in high school. Lois was our drummer. Guess we never outgrew our love for it.”
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