by Ruth Langan
“Maybe.” Cam rewound the tape, opened the case, removed the tape and dropped it into his pocket. “The police will want this. Got a fresh tape?”
She fished in a kitchen drawer and held it up.
As he inserted it he said, “Pack whatever you’ll need for the next couple of days.”
“Pack? Cam, I’ll call the police and report this. They’ll look into it.”
“That’s right. They’ll look into it. And maybe, in time, they’ll even figure out who this character is. But in the meantime…” He took her hands. Despite the heat of the day, they were cold as ice. “You heard the man. He knows where you live. That’s why he called you here at your apartment, rather than at your office or on your cell phone. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t bluffing.”
She nodded. “I’d figured out that much for myself.”
“All right then.” He led her toward the bedroom. “Let’s go someplace where he can’t find you.”
“That would be?”
He gave her a quick, dangerous smile. “Didn’t you mention you’d like to see my new house?”
She’d packed quickly, then accompanied Cam downstairs to his car. As he drove she sat watching his hands, firm and unshakable on the wheel. And his profile. Eyes steely. Teeth clamped. A little muscle working in his jaw.
Even if he hadn’t told her about his past, she’d have known that he was a man who enjoyed a good fight. Though there had been little change in his expression, she’d sensed the thread of steel in his voice, in his manner, after he heard the threat.
He’d spoken to his brother Micah, who operated a security company. Following his directions, Cam had carefully walked around, looking for any sign of an intruder. From the little she’d overheard, Summer knew that an operative had already been assigned to watch her apartment. It gave her some comfort, but not much. She had a job to do. A life to live. And no anonymous voice on the phone was going to keep her from it.
They drove in silence through the rolling Virginia countryside. Whatever anger Cam felt seemed to disappear as he turned up a curving drive and parked in front of a graceful, sprawl ing house of buff brick. Arched windows stood in welcome on either side of double wooden doors.
“This is it?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, Cam.” She stared around at the rolling lawn, seeing in her mind the perfect spot for a rose garden. And along the curve of walkway, lilies. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He tossed his sunglasses on the dash and rounded the hood of the car to open her door. “It lacks the warmth of your place, but it’s pretty much put together. I haven’t spent a lot of time here. I was told the new bed was just delivered some time this morning.” He shot her a sideways glance as he caught her hand and led her up the low, stone steps. “This’ll be my first time to try it out.”
As he fitted the key in the lock he was surprised to see the door swing open.
Puzzled, he put a hand out to keep her from following. “Stay here.”
He stepped inside before stopping in mid-stride.
The pictures had been torn from the walls and lay smashed around the room. The cushions of the new sofa had been slashed, the stuffing littering the floor. Shards of crystal were all that was left of an expensive imported lamp that had once stood on a round marble end table.
Cam swore as he picked his way through the debris toward the kitchen and dining room, where the destruction was equally thorough. The glass doors of the china cabinet had been smashed, the china and crystal torn from the shelves and tossed around the room. The banquet-size dining table had been hacked to pieces and the matching chairs smashed against the walls until they’d broken like matchsticks.
In the master bedroom, the new furniture he’d been waiting for with such impatience lay in pieces, completely destroyed. The mattress had been slashed, torn and shredded, the headboard shattered, the frame broken. The sledgehammer used in the attack lay nearby. On the wall, someone had sprayed in neon pink paint the words, “Back off, lawyer.”
“Oh, Cam.” Summer found him standing in the middle of the room, hands fisted at his sides, eyes narrowed on the paint-streaked wall.
She had to choke back a sob as she walked up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist and press her face to his shoulder. “Your beautiful new house.”
He remained perfectly still for several minutes before turning her into his arms and pressing his lips to her temple. His words were muffled against her hair. “It’s just a house, Summer. These are just things.”
“But it’s so senseless. So violent.”
“Yeah.” Violent enough to have his complete attention. Violent enough to let him know that the one responsible was capable of utter, total destruction.
This was neither random nor harmless. It could never be dismissed as the work of vandals or hoodlums. This was deliberate. Explosive. Calculated.
He held her another minute, needing her calm, steadying influence on the anger that had his blood heating to a boil.
When he was able to compose himself he took her hand. “Come on.”
“Aren’t you going to call the police?”
“Yeah. From my car phone. I need to breathe fresh air.”
The police had been efficient, thorough, direct. After the inevitable questions, statements and written reports, they had agreed to permit Cam and Summer to leave while an investigation team continued going over the house and grounds for any clues.
Cam dropped an arm around her shoulders as he urged her toward his car. Once inside he turned the key in the ignition and drove away without a backward glance.
When they were on the highway she turned to him. “I don’t understand how you can simply walk away.”
“I’m not walking. I’m driving.”
“This isn’t funny, Cam. You know who did this. Alfonso Johnson’s signature is all over this. You said yourself he was ready to erupt with violence when you met with him. Yet you’re acting as though he’s just one of many suspects.”
Cam’s voice was dangerously soft. “I come from a long line of cops, Summer. I know the drill. I also know that a lot of things aren’t what they appear to be. Now let it go. What you need, what we both need, is to find a way to work off all this frustration.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re driving us to a gym.”
“I have a better idea. It’s like a gym, but we’ll manage to be surrounded by a little comfort, as well.”
“Comfort?” She couldn’t seem to follow his logic.
“I happen to know this place where the food is good, the atmosphere cozy and the company lively. And best of all, I can run, fight and sweat while enjoying it all.”
She was shaking her head in disbelief. “How can you think about such things at a time like this?”
He merely continued driving until they’d returned to the city. When they came to a neighborhood of quiet streets, carefully tended lawns and big, sprawling houses, Cam slowed the car, then turned into a driveway where four cars were parked in a row.
“I’m not surprised.” He turned off the ignition and sat a moment, looking at the blur of movement behind the front windows. “Looks like the gang’s all here.”
“The gang?”
He slid from the car and came around to open her door. With her hand in his he led her up the steps and pushed open the front door.
“Shouldn’t you knock?”
He smiled and led the way inside. “This is one place I never have to knock, Summer. The door is always open to me.”
He saw understand dawning in her eyes and nodded. “This is where I grew up. Where I still come whenever I need to find sanity in an insane world. Welcome to my family home.”
He leaned close and added, “Brace yourself. The Lassiter clan tends to be a bit overwhelming until you get to know them. Then they’re just—” he gave her one of those quick, dangerous grins “—downright annoying.”
Chapter 13
Kieran Lassiter looked up as the
y entered the kitchen.
Seeing Cam, a wide smile creased his face. “So, boyo. As usual you’re here in time for supper. What’s the matter? Wouldn’t your favorite restaurant take your reservation?”
“Maybe I’ve maxed out my credit card.”
“You, boyo? Not a chance. That fancy law firm pays you a king’s ransom just to walk into court in those designer suits and dazzle the poor souls who have to sit and listen to you every day.”
“You hear that?” Cam turned to Summer. “This is the sort of abuse I’m forced to endure in my own family.”
In a loud voice he announced, “I’d like you all to meet Summer O’Connor. Summer, this is my grandfather, Kieran Lassiter.”
Summer offered her hand. “Mr. Lassiter.”
“It’s plain old Pop.” The old man caught her hand between both of his, staring into her eyes with a sly smile that reminded her of his grandson’s. “Summer O’Connor, is it? That’s a fine name.”
“Thank you.”
In his best brogue he asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Paddy O’Connor from County Cork now, would you?”
“That would be my grandfather, though I’m sure there are dozens more with the same name.”
“A grand man, he was. A butcher, as I recall.”
She shook her head. “My grandfather was a banker.”
“A pity.” He glanced at his daughter-in-law. “Have you met Cameron’s mother, Kate?”
“I have.”
Kate embraced her son before turning to Sum mer with a gentle smile. “Micah told us about the threatening message on your phone machine. I’m glad Cameron brought you here. This is my oldest son, Micah, and his wife, Pru.”
Summer could see the resemblance between Cam and his older brother, especially in those midnight-blue eyes.
“My son Donovan and his wife, Andi, and their children Cory and Taylor.”
Summer smiled and was rewarded by shy smiles from the children and warm handshakes from their parents.
Cam turned to include the handsome young couple standing by the big trestle table. “My sister, Bren, and her husband, Chris Banning.”
Summer smiled at the tiny red-haired woman who looked like a younger version of Kate. “I’ve seen you on television, Congresswoman.”
“It’s just plain Bren.”
“Bren.” Summer offered her hand. “Chris.” She looked around with a laugh. “I’m afraid it’s going to take a while before I commit all of these names to memory.”
“That’s all right. Take your time.” Donovan winked at Cam. “We’ll wait until after dinner to give you the quiz.”
Kieran chuckled. “I hope you’ve brought your appetite, lass. We’re cooking a fine big meal.”
Summer smiled almost shyly. “Something smells wonderful.”
“It’s pot roast. With mushroom gravy and new garden potatoes. And I’m baking biscuits. Dinner should be ready within the hour, if you’ve a mind to stay.” He stared pointedly at his grandson and could see something hot and dangerous in those eyes. Something simmering just beneath the calm surface. “You are planning on staying, aren’t you, boyo?”
“You bet.” Cam nodded toward the battered old basketball hoop hanging over the garage in the back yard. “I’ve got a powerful need to beat up on something.” He headed toward the back door. “I think there’s just enough time before dinner to take on a couple of bloated old men.” He turned to his brother-in-law. “Are you with me, Chris?”
“I’m your man.” Chris discarded his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his police-issue shirt.
Micah turned to Donovan. “Who’s this punk calling bloated?”
“You, bro.”
At Donovan’s laugh Micah taunted, “Then you must be the one he called old.” He slapped his brother on the back. “Come on. Let’s show our baby brother what we’re made of.”
The two men were out the door and racing after Cam and Chris, who were dribbling a basketball between them.
Summer stood in the bay window watching as they pushed, shoved and elbowed their way toward the basket. Micah went down on his knees, and Donovan jumped over him, shoving Cam against the backboard hard enough to have it swaying.
Summer turned to Pru and Andi, who had returned their attention to the stove. “Doesn’t anyone mind that there are four men out there trying to hurt each other?”
“Don’t give it a thought.” Bren was busy tossing a salad. “They’ve been acting that way since they were out of diapers.”
“You ought to know, lass.” Kieran opened the oven to remove perfectly browned biscuits. “You’ve joined them too many times to count.”
When he saw the look of alarm on Summer’s face he walked over to draw an arm around her shoulders. “You’re not to worry now. They might lose a little blood and rattle a few teeth, but they’ll make it up before the game ends. The lads have always shot hoops whenever they needed to work off some energy. I’d say, by the anger I saw in Cameron’s eyes when he first got here, he had a powerful need to shoot hoops with his brothers.”
When Summer remained silent he said, “Want to tell me what this is about?”
She shook her head. “I’ll leave that up to Cam.”
“All right.” He patted her hand. “Why don’t you sit at the table and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
“I don’t want you waiting on me. I’d like to help.”
He nodded. “All right. There are potatoes to mash and gravy to stir. Which will it be?”
She thought a minute, then rolled up her sleeves. Cam wasn’t the only one who needed to work off some frustration. “I’ll mash the potatoes.”
Kieran turned to the others, who were watching in silence. “Don’t everybody just stand there. There’s work to be done.”
Kate retrieved her oven mitts and lifted a roasting pan from the oven. At the stove Andi began stirring gravy while Pru strained water from fresh garden beans. Kieran was filling a teapot with boiling water while Cory and Taylor were given the chore of carrying butter, cream and sugar to the dining room.
It was, Summer thought as she immersed herself in her chore, a very satisfying way of putting her worries aside.
“Here, boyo.” Kieran handed Cam a bottle of chilled white wine.
The four men had worked up a healthy sweat and, except for Micah’s bloody nose and Donovan’s twisted ankle, seemed none the worse for the hour of combat. They were, in fact, looking very pleased with themselves.
“Make yourself useful.”
With a wink at Summer the old man went back to his biscuits, arranging them in a napkin-lined basket.
When the wine was uncorked, Cam caught Summer’s hand. “Come on. You can help me in the other room.”
Once they were in the dining room he handed her the bottle before removing stem glasses from the china cabinet. While he held them, she poured. When the glasses had been filled and set around the table, he took the empty bottle from her hand and drew her close for a quick kiss.
At that exact moment Kieran stepped through the doorway and came to a sudden halt.
“We’ll have none of that, boyo.”
“Maybe you won’t, Pop. Personally, I can’t think of a better appetizer.”
Though Summer’s cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink, Cam merely laughed as the rest of his family spilled into the dining room behind Kieran.
They took their places around the table, with Kate at one end and Kieran at the other. Cam pulled a chair beside his for Summer, then took her hand in his. She glanced around the table to see that everyone had joined hands.
Kieran intoned the blessing in his rich, deep voice. “Bless this food and those who are about to enjoy it. Bless our guest this evening, and make her feel at home. And especially bless Riordan who watches over us all.”
Summer glanced at Cam and saw the slight flare of his nostrils at the mention of his father. It seemed amazing to her that this family had kept one man alive in their memories, even though they�
�d been little more than children when he’d died.
As they began passing dishes, they all seemed to be talking at once.
“So, Summer.” Micah offered her the basket of biscuits. “What do you do?”
She set a perfectly browned biscuit on her plate and passed the basket to Cam. “I’m a social worker.”
Bren looked across the table. “Do you work with Mom?”
“No. But we’ve met. Everyone in our department has great respect for Kate Lassiter.”
At the end of the table Kate merely smiled. “Ours is a mutual admiration society. We’re probably the only ones who know how difficult and frustrating the job can be. Pru does similar work at the Children’s Village.”
Summer angled her head. “I’m impressed. I’ve dealt with Children’s Village from time to time. They handle even difficult family cases with ease.”
Pru acknowledged the compliment with a smile. “Actually, I don’t work with the families, but rather with the computers.”
Donovan sipped his wine. “How’d you happen to meet Cameron?”
Summer glanced at Cam. “We found ourselves on opposite sides of a current case.”
Chris grinned at his wife. “Not a bad way to get acquainted. That’s pretty much how Bren and I met.”
“Really?” Summer lifted a brow.
Bren was laughing. “We appeared on ‘Meet the Media’ to debate opposite sides of an issue.”
Chris closed his hand over his wife’s. “And found ourselves agreeing more often than disagreeing.”
Cam made a mock gagging sound. “You’ll have to forgive the newlyweds. With them around, we don’t need sugar in our tea.”
“Jealous?” Bren shot him a look. “I’m sure to a hard-core bachelor like you, the thought of two people pledging their love forever must seem so dull.”
“Mary Brendan.” Kieran’s tone was sharp. “Another outburst like that, and you’ll find yourself out back shooting hoops.”
Cam couldn’t help laughing. In an aside he whispered, “Some things never change. From the time we were kids, whenever we got out of hand, Pop sent us outside to work off our frustrations playing basketball.”