Nanny

by Christina Skye

  Audra had it sometimes, too.

  The Fear came when you were certain the other kids laughed about your clothes or your breath or the size of your butt. It came when you were certain your parents would do something ridiculously uncool and make everyone point at you and snicker.

  Most of all, it came when you felt like Audra did now—alone.

  Invisible.

  Stupid and clumsy, like no one else had ever understood you or ever could, because you were like from Pluto and everyone else was from Muncie, Indiana.

  “Ground control to space head.”

  “Shut up,” Audra hissed into the phone, easing open the window next to the big tree on the lawn. “I’m coming out now. See you in two minutes.”

  “About time.”

  The line went dead.

  Audra pulled out a black fire ladder and dangled it from the window, looping the metal clamps over the sill. The ladder was Tracey’s, courtesy of stepfather #3, who had been in the insurance business and had a fixation about house fires, maybe because he hated to pay up afterward. He’d been a real cheapskate, Tracey had said, but he knew about how to get out of a house fast.

  Like all the other times, the ladder worked like a dream, falling silently and unrolling to its full length. Audra shut off her cell phone and stuck it in her pocket, then worked her way over the sill. Turning carefully, she pulled the window almost shut and then began to pick her way down. Five feet from the ground, she jumped clear, then made her way along a little space behind the bougainvillaeas.

  Tracey was sitting on the ground near a big jade plant at the edge of the garage. Huge earphones framed her face as she bobbed her head to unheard music.

  “Let’s go,” Audra hissed. “And be quiet, because the senator hasn’t left yet.”

  “No shit.” Tracey brushed off the back of her skintight denim skirt. “Let’s go pay a late-night visit. I mean, the man is such a stud. Even my mom says she’d be open to a little Oval Office sex with him.”

  “Shut up, Tracey.” Audra stamped off toward the driveway.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Tracey caught up and grabbed her arm. “I keep forgetting he’s going to be your father. Stepfather, anyway.”

  “It feels creepy when you talk that way.” Audra jerked free. “Like you don’t care about yourself or anyone else.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t care much about other people because they suck, but we’re best friends, right? We stick together no matter what.” Tracey’s face was pale and pinched in the moonlight. “Right?”

  “Sure.” Audra shrugged, feeling uneasy the way she always did when her friend acted odd and hyper like this. “Let’s get out of here. If someone sees me, I’ll be grounded for the next century.”

  They picked their way behind another set of bushes, expertly avoiding the gravel. A few minutes later they came to a broad screened porch behind Tracey’s house.

  Audra sat down on a wicker chair in the darkness, fingering her cell phone. “I think I’ll call that cute guy from my biology lab.”

  “You think he’ll come out?”

  Audra shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe we could just talk for a while. I’m only staying thirty minutes, remember? My mom’s still mad at me after what happened at the museum today. She’s been so hyper lately,” Audra said in disgust.

  “At least your mom notices what you do.” Tracey paced in the darkness. “Last night I didn’t come home until almost five. Believe me, they don’t give Girl Scout badges for the stuff I was doing.”

  Audra looked away, angry at the way the excitement had gone out of the night, leaving her empty again, feeling guilty though she’d done nothing wrong except sneak outside to keep her friend company. “Big deal.”

  Tracey dropped into a swing near the door. “You’re no damned fun, that’s for sure.”

  Audra shivered in the darkness, feeling more alone than ever. Facing The Fear.

  Sometimes she almost wished she were a kid again, when her only worries were getting her braids straight and remembering where she’d hidden her Little Pony diary.

  But mostly Audra wished she were completely grown-up. Then she’d never feel alone and afraid again.

  “Want a cigarette?” Tracey tossed something through the darkness.

  “Sure.” Everything else so far had been a real bust, Audra thought. Her stomach growled, and she ignored it.

  Twenty minutes later Tracey was in the middle of her third cigarette and a hectic story about the football player who had groped her after gym class.

  Audra glared down at the fluorescent numbers on the watch her mother had given her for her fourteenth birthday.

  To hell with Tracey and her stupid stories. She was going home. Sneaking out like this was dangerous—not that there had been any crimes on this street for ages, but Audra knew something was worrying her mom, making her hyper.

  Probably some case at work. Though her mom never discussed her job, Audra knew she had to face down angry men and ugly crimes. Secretly, Audra was proud of her mom for doing stuff like that, for being so strong, because sometimes those men went to jail. Then they wanted revenge against the people who’d put them there.

  That meant her mother.

  They never talked about stuff like that, though. Probably her mother thought she was still a kid and wouldn’t understand. Or maybe she didn’t want her to understand, because understanding changed you.

  Audra shivered a little, pulling her jacket tighter as she studied the darkness. She’d called the guy from her biology lab but he sounded odd, so she’d hung up. Probably he’d tell the other kids and they’d all laugh at her. On top of that, the cigarettes were making her stomach churn. She’d have to ditch her clothes and change, or her mother would smell the smoke.

  Well, to hell with that.

  Audra stood up, scowling—and when she did, someone grabbed her hard from behind, cutting off her breath.

  chapter 12

  Summer punched on the lights in the guest cottage. “I want to see exactly where you’re installing the infrared sensors for the beach access.”

  Gabe dropped the blueprints onto her desk. “Be my guest.”

  Summer peered at the diagrams intently. “Along the main path?”

  “For starters. More sensors will go near the garage. They’re marked by the broken lines on the diagram.”

  Summer peered some more, then dug into her briefcase. Muttering, she slid on a pair of glasses.

  “Reading glasses?”

  “One more word and you’re toast, Morgan.”

  Gabe sat down in an overstuffed leather chair and stretched out his long legs. “In that case, no comment from me.”

  “Good.” Summer ran her fingers slowly over the diagram, as if feeling her way over possibilities and dangers. “This array should cover everything.”

  Gabe held back as long as he could. “Aren’t you a little young for reading glasses?”

  Summer ignored him. “We need more surveillance cameras, one at the back porch and one along the path near the garage. The bushes make it hard to see anyone coming up from the road.”

  “I already asked. Ms. O’Connor nixed the additional cameras. The senator is going to work on her, but for now she says they’re too intrusive.” Gabe crossed his arms behind his head. “What gives with the glasses?”

  “It’s genetic.” Summer shoved a strand of hair behind her ear, frowning. “My dad had the same thing. Hit him hard when he was thirty. He hated it.” She looked off into space for a moment. “I was going to get the surgery, then this mission came up and everything got put on hold.” She toyed with her wrist. “Who is the team handling the upgrades?”

  “They’re reliable, don’t worry.”

  “It’s my job to worry.” Summer rubbed her neck. “Are they civilians?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, the matter is taken care of. No more questions needed.”

  She swung ar
ound, staring at him. “In case you forgot, I’m a federal agent. It’s my job to ask questions.”

  “Fine. You asked, and that’s my answer.”

  “So he’s really hush-hush.” Summer nodded slowly. “In that case, it’s fine with me. Just as long as he’s good.”

  “He’s so good that you’ve never heard of him. And you never will.”

  “Are you in the CIA? SWAT maybe?”

  Gabe shrugged. “I’m a professional. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Not by half. What are you looking at?”

  Gabe steepled his fingers. “You. I’m trying to figure you out.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m as dull and boring as they come, Morgan. I do the job and then I go home.”

  Gabe watched the smooth curve of her neck when she lifted her hair. He saw the muscles tighten at her thigh when she leaned over the desk. No, she was wrong. He had a ticklish instinct that she was far from boring once you got beneath all that spit-polish and edgy nerve.

  Not that he’d ever get there or see her in anything but an ugly, plain-Jane dark suit.

  Irritated that he couldn’t seem to stop imagining Sum-mer Mulvaney with her hair loose, her lips soft, dressed in something light and gauzy, Gabe stood up and checked his watch. “Time for a grounds check. I won’t be comfortable until that new equipment is online. Right now a Russian tank battalion could probably get in here.”

  Summer pulled off her glasses. “I’ll go with you.”

  Gabe opened his mouth to nix the idea, then stopped. She was assigned to Cara O’Connor and her family, and that made them partners.

  Whether he liked it or not.

  He pulled on a black nylon knapsack. “Let’s get moving.” He looked at her feet and nodded. “Rubber soles. Good.”

  “I know my job, Mr. Morgan.”

  Gabe smiled blandly. We’ll see about that.

  Audra’s heart was pounding. She twisted hard, then gasped. “What are you doing here?” A small hand gripped her tightly, half-hidden in the bushes. “If Mom finds you outside, she’ll kill us both.”

  Sophy held Liberace against her chest, shivering. “I heard a noise. When I went to your room you were gone, so I checked the window.”

  “I closed it,” Audra snapped.

  Behind her Tracey snorted. “Busted.”

  “The window wasn’t completely closed, not quite. I saw the rope you used to raise and lower the ladder, too. It was still hidden in the tree branches. But I already knew something was wrong. And since I knew that Tracey sneaks out at night—”

  “How do you know that?” Audra demanded.

  “I just knew.”

  Tracey sprawled on a pink chaise, laughing. “Good work, Sophy. You ought to be a spy. Want a Camel?”

  “Shut up, Tracey.” Audra glared at her friend.

  “No. I want to hear about Sophy and this stuff she knows. How does it work, Sophy?”

  The younger girl chewed her lip. “I don’t plan it, but it comes and goes. It’s like the TV channels in a storm, you know? The picture can get wavy, but you can still see it.”

  “Let’s go, Sophy.” Audra was angry at her friend, but some part of her was still curious, unable to stop picturing exactly what Tracey and her mystery friend did when they sneaked outside at night. Was that abnormal? Audra wondered. Did you go to hell for having too much curiosity and too many bad thoughts?

  “Chickens,” Tracey called as the girls crossed the porch.

  “I don’t like it when you smoke.” Sophy stroked Liberace’s head. “I don’t like Tracey very much, either. She’s going to get in trouble someday. Besides, she’s too old to be your friend.”

  “She’s only a year older than I am.”

  “But she acts a lot older.”

  “Why don’t you like her?” Audra demanded.

  Sophy shrugged. “Just because.”

  “Did something happen?” Audra was seized by a flood of dark possibilities. “Did she do something to you?”

  Sophy continued walking. “No, she just gives me the creeps. She doesn’t like herself very much; you can see it in her eyes. One day I saw her talking to Uncle Tate, only she was acting odd.”

  Even though he wasn’t their uncle, Sophy called him that. Audra thought it was stupid, but it was better than Dad, which just didn’t feel right. “Talking about what?”

  “I couldn’t hear. But she was laughing and touching his arm, and then he looked mad and he said something back to her and then her face got red. She walked away really fast.” Sophy looked up at her sister. “Uncle Tate just stared after her for a long time. He didn’t look happy, either.”

  Audra had a cold, sick feeling in her stomach. Maybe she wouldn’t see Tracey anymore. Maybe that was best.

  “Come on,” Sophy said impatiently. “It’s late, but we can sneak down to the kitchen. Patrick left us some German chocolate cake.”

  “I don’t want any,” Audra said tensely. She couldn’t stop thinking about Tracey and Senator Winslow. What if they were—

  Without warning, Liberace wriggled out of Sophy’s grip and shot along a low branch of the tree. Audra went after him while Sophy giggled.

  Somewhere a clock chimed quietly in the depths of the night.

  chapter 13

  Mist swirled up from the beach as Summer walked down the flagstone path to the pool. The perfume of roses was intense here, reminding her of early summer nights back in Philadelphia.

  There was no sign of activity in the outbuildings, or down the path to the rocky beach. All the ground-floor windows of the house were closed and locked.

  Summer wasn’t surprised to see Gabe pull out night-vision glasses and sweep the area a complete 360 degrees. “Everything nailed down tight,” he said finally, stowing the glasses in his pack.

  “In that case, I’m going inside. I want to recheck the windows in the kitchen and be sure the alarm is still set.”

  Without a word, Gabe turned, cutting across the tennis courts.

  “You’re not asking why?” Summer said quietly.

  “I never question thoroughness.”

  Summer hid her surprise and rolled her shoulders, trying to work off some of her tension. “What time is it?”

  “Almost one.” Gabe moved with powerful grace, his footsteps silent on the damp grass. “I’ll take the next circuit. We can rotate.”

  Summer raised an eyebrow. “You trust me to handle things?”

  “You’re the officer assigned. That means I have to trust you. It also means—” He turned suddenly, pulling her back against the corner of the garage as gravel skittered down the road. Car lights flickered through the mist, and Gabe’s arm dropped to her waist, drawing her out of sight while the lights moved in a slow arc over the grass.

  As the beams traced the wall only inches away from where they stood, Summer planned defensive scenarios in the event of gunfire from the car. At the same time she reached down, finding the handle of her service weapon.

  If a door opened, she was ready to roll.

  But no door opened. No footsteps crossed the gravel. The car moved slowly down the road, its lights fading back into the night. Summer felt the bushes twitch beside her and realized Gabe was gone. Releasing her handgun, she peered around the corner of the garage.

  He emerged like a wall of shadow out of the fog, his expression grim. “I only got the last three letters on the plate, but I’ll check it anyway. It could have been a local resident taking the wrong turn.”

  “At one A.M.?”

  “Not everyone’s a criminal.” Gabe looked down, frowning. “Don’t move.”

  Summer swung her head, assessing threat scenarios. “Did you hear something? Why are you—” Her voice caught in a gasp of pain as something dug into her scalp.

  “Organpipe cactus. I didn’t see it until you backed into it.” Gabe leaned down, tugging gently to release her hair from the spines. “These things can be hell to get out.”

  Summer stood awkwardly, her hair caug
ht in a dozen places. “Just get them,” she said tensely.

  “Slow is the only way. Otherwise they dig in deeper.”

  “Forget about slow. Yank them out.” As she spoke, Summer twisted her head right and left, only to find her hair seized by dozens of new needles.

  “Stop moving.” Gabe caught her hands, then clicked on a penlight with a red bulb and studied the damage. “Nice job, Mulvaney.”

  “What?”

  “Your hands are going to be a problem. And your hair—forget working your hair free. I may have to cut it.”

  “Fine. It’s just hair.”

  Gabe produced a big army knife. As he leaned over her, Summer felt his warm breath on her cheek and the brush of his hard thighs. “Don’t get twitchy on me or you may end up bald.”

  She closed her eyes, stunned by the sharp awareness of his body pressed against hers. The knife moved, then tugged hard.

  “Sorry if that hurt.”

  “I’m—fine. Just get it done.” Summer tried to focus on anything but the rigid torso against her belly. Hair drifted onto her arm while he sliced down, strand by strand.

  The silence of the night was suddenly far too intimate. “Can’t you work faster?”

  “No.” Another hunk of hair fell on her arm. “I can barely see, so I’m going by feel alone. I’m trying to spare some of your hair.”

  “Forget about that and hurry. I want to go check the house.”

  Gabe made an irritated sound as he located another cluster of cactus needles. More hair fell onto Summer’s arm.

  She shifted restlessly, and Gabe gripped her shoulder. “I told you not to move.”

  “Fine, fine. I won’t move. I won’t even breathe, Attila.”

  More hair rained down, and then Gabe cradled her chin. “Last one. Hold still, because this could be the worst.”

  There was a sudden, sharp tug at her scalp. Muttering darkly, Gabe knifed through a tangle of hair and held it up gravely. “Cactus three, Summer zero.” He dropped the hair on the grass. “All done.”

  When Summer turned her head, she was finally free, but her jacket was still stuck to the cactus. Impatiently, she shrugged off both sleeves and scowled when the jacket stayed right where it was, impaled on the sharp spines. Ragged pieces of hair hung above the jacket, making a ghostly doppelganger in the night. “I’ve got cactus spines everywhere.” Shaking her head, she started up the flagstone path to the back door. “But at least I’m free for my round.”