Daniel motioned for Sarah to stay behind him and to keep quiet. She had no intention of making any noise at all. Moving swiftly and without a sound, they slipped along the hallway to an unmarked door. With his shoulder braced against it, Daniel pushed it open.
Peering over Daniel's shoulder, Sarah saw the lean body slumped over the desk, tousled blond curls touching the blotter. She felt Daniel tense. Then he burst into the room, dropping to the floor as he signaled her to get down. He rolled across the room until he was at the lab tech's side. In a second he had his hand on Cody's neck, feeling for a pulse.
"Cody?" Daniel's voice was strained with worry.
"What?" The startled lab tech jumped up, almost knocking Daniel in the chin with his head. "What is it?"
Sarah rose to her feet and slipped into the room, quickly closing the door. At first glance, she'd thought the lab tech was dead, stretched across the desk. But she realized he'd been asleep— a fact that was dawning on Daniel as he clasped his friend's shoulder.
"You scared me to death," Daniel said, his voice registering relief and chastisement.
"You didn't do a lot for me, either." Cody shrugged his arms, straightening his shirt. "And you look like hell." He caught sight of Sarah in her white chef's suit. "Who are you supposed to be, Julia Child and Jeeves the butler after a food fight?"
"It's a long story, and it's been a long night. What about those test results?"
"I was wondering if you were going to collect the data." Cody rolled his chair briskly across the room to a file cabinet. "I had to put it on record, but I made a copy of the report for you." He pulled a legal page from the folder and rode the chair back to his desk. With a flourish, he handed it to Daniel. "Pretty hot stuff, if I can manage a little pun."
Daniel groaned as he took the page and studied it quickly. "What is this substance? Ipecac? It isn't any poison I've ever heard of."
"It's a very common substance, available without a prescription, also known as emetine." Cody lifted his eyebrows, assuming a professorial stance. "It's used to induce vomiting. Used to be sort of a home cure for alcoholism." Cody was over his scare and was eager to talk about his favorite topic, poisons.
"Oh, great." Sarah suddenly visualized the luncheon with every dignitary in the Southern states grasping their stomachs and running for the bathrooms. It would have ruined her career.
Cody picked up the thread of his conversation with enthusiasm. "The bottom line, though, is that with the limited use of ipecac in the pepper, no one would have been injured. Worst case scenario, two or three very sick people. More likely a tableful of slightly queasy folks." Cody tapped the paper in Daniel's hands. "Looks to me like someone was planning a prank."
"Did you check the pepper for other poisons?" Daniel wasn't willing to let it rest. Men didn't break into a highly protected home in a ritzy neighborhood to play a prank.
"Everything under the sun. There was nothing else there that we could detect. The ipecac was in the black peppercorns, the most commonly used pepper. My guess is that the intention was a broad-based assault. Almost everyone uses a little pepper, so theoretically, almost everyone would have been affected. But," he emphasized, "no one would have been seriously affected."
"How did they do it?" Sarah asked.
"Ipecac is made from the Cephaelis ipecacuanha, a plant common throughout Europe and the Americas. The berries and the juice are toxic." His face grew stern. "This can be a very dangerous substance if taken in concentrated doses. It can easily kill."
"Not sprinkled on food like pepper, though," Daniel said.
"Right. My guess is that whoever did this soaked the peppercorns in a mildly concentrated solution of ipecac liquid, then dried the peppercorns, and repeated the process a couple of times. They were heavily saturated."
"Wouldn't someone have tasted it?" Sarah asked.
"Doubtful. And keep in mind that many people put pepper on almost all of their food. It would have blended with the different courses."
"Would it have shown up in later tests?"
Cody grinned. "Doubtful. And who would test for it in food? As I said, this is an old-time remedy. People used to put it in liquor to induce heavy vomiting. The theory was that a person wouldn't drink if he thought the alcohol would make him deathly sick. Wrong assumption, I'm afraid."
"And where could a person get this substance?" Daniel folded the lab report and put it into his pocket.
"Anywhere. It's certainly easy enough to find. But keep in mind, if the poisoner had wanted deadly results, then he would have used something else, or administered this differently. By the way, ipecac can be used over a long term, a slow poisoning that is lethal."
"Thanks, Cody." He hesitated. "I called earlier and there was no answer."
Cody looked down at his desk. "I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette."
"I thought you'd quit." Daniel's frown was back in place. "Nicotine is a poison, too. You don't need me to tell you that."
"Soon. I promise." Cody leaned back in his chair and looked at Sarah. "Well, Ms. Covington, I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. Now, tell me about those outfits you're wearing."
"We were working the Bingington luncheon, and we simply haven't had a chance to change clothes." She gave a crooked smile. She hadn't completely absorbed all the information, and implications, of what Cody had told her, but she understood he'd done a very thorough job on her behalf.
"Looks like the two of you had a rough day." Cody's glance lingered on Sarah's slim figure and long legs.
Daniel caught the glint of interest in Cody's eyes. "It's time for us to go," he said, walking over and taking Sarah's arm. "Thanks, Cody. And could you send a team over to my apartment? Someone trashed the place and I'd like to have it swept for fingerprints."
Cody whistled, his casual pose disappearing as he stood. "You've gotten hold of something nasty. Or it's gotten hold of you."
"And we'll see who comes out on top." Daniel's words were a vow.
"I'd hate to get between you and whatever you wanted," Cody said without rancor. He looked at Sarah. "Once this guy has his mind made up, you'd better step back and get out of the way. I've known him since we were in college together."
Daniel's jaw tightened. "Speaking of old friends, do you recall a Glen Henderson from the academy?"
Cody took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt. "That name doesn't strike a bell. But maybe if I saw his picture."
"Doesn't strike a bell with me, either. I'll let you know." He moved toward the door, still holding Sarah's elbow gently in his hand. "Thanks, Cody."
"I'll call for the fingerprint guys. Daniel— " he waited until his friend looked at him "— be careful. You're a good agent, but don't put yourself in a place where a mistake can be too costly."
Daniel stared at his friend for two seconds. "I hear you, Cody. I hear you." He nodded once and then assisted Sarah out to the front door. As they started to exit, he repeated the same procedure with an interior electronic pad.
"I can understand safety precautions getting in the building," Sarah said, "but going out? That seems a little odd."
"If someone broke in here and got into our files, he might not be able to figure the code to get out. It's just a little extra precaution."
"I see." But Sarah was too tired to worry about precautions. She wanted to go home.
Daniel gently took the keys from her hand and maneuvered her around the car to the passenger door. When he finally pulled up into the alley behind her business, Sarah was sound asleep.
In the light cast by a mercury vapor bulb, he studied her sleeping face. Her skin was as clear and perfect as alabaster, set off by eyebrows several shades darker than her hair. Dark lashes curved against her cheek. She looked barely out of her teens as she slept, face turned toward him on the headrest of the seat.
"Sarah." He spoke gently.
A furrow touched her forehead. "No," she murmured.
"Sarah." He brushed her hair off her che
ek, noting the heavy weight of it.
"Doesn't know," she whispered, and her eyebrows drew together. "No." She shifted, turning slightly. "No, I won't do it."
"Wake up, Sarah." Daniel grasped her shoulder, shaking very lightly.
Her eyes opened, unfocused, and she stared at him a moment as she adjusted to where she was.
"What did I say?" she asked slowly.
"Sounded like a bad dream to me." Daniel felt a vague worry begin to gnaw at him. Was it a dream? Or was it a guilty conscience? "What were you dreaming about?"
Guilt filled Sarah's eyes before she turned to gather her purse from the floor. "My sordid past, Daniel." She blinked several times before she looked up at him. "Thanks for driving me home. You're welcome to stay on the sofa. I mean, most of the night is gone and…" She didn't want to be alone. But she wasn't going to come right out and say it. Daniel Dubonet didn't owe her a single minute of playing bodyguard.
"It might be better if I stayed." He felt a confusion of emotions. Was he staying to protect her— or to spy on her? To shut off his own uncertainties, he got out and went around the car to help her.
From the corner of the building, a black shadow darted toward the car, landing on the hood with a thud.
"Familiar!" Sarah felt a surge of happiness at the sight of the black feline. "Where have you been?"
* * *
I COULD ASK the very same question of you, Dolly. I've been hanging around this alley freezing my elegant black tail off, and finally you come home, with an escort in tow. A federal agent, no less. Well, it could be worse. It could have been that creep in the dark blue car who's been sitting out in front of the beauty shop on and off for the past three days. I can only hope this fellow is at least of average human intelligence. The longer I live, the more I wonder how humans became the dominant species.
Take for instance that old harridan who runs the beauty shop. She threw a glass of cold water at me. She has no inkling that I'm in the service of the First Cat! It takes a mighty mean person to try to douse a cat with cold water simply because he's walking down the street.
I'd better get my quota of pets and cuddles. I detect a certain light in this gentleman's eyes that tells me he has some hopes pinned on future strokes and kisses himself. Ah, the budding of a new love, perhaps. All well and good— if he meets Socks' and my approval!
* * *
"I DIDN'T KNOW you had a cat." Daniel eyed the black feline with some doubt. He'd always had dogs as a boy. Dogs and bicycles were a natural duo, in his opinion. Cats were an unknown— with sharp teeth, sharp claws and an arrogant attitude.
"I don't, really." Sarah bundled the cat to her chest. "He's freezing, though. I found him the other night, lying outside my door. I thought maybe he'd been hit by a car. But he seemed to be okay, and then he disappeared." She stroked his head. "I thought he'd gone back to his home."
"He looks fine to me." There was something about the cat that made the agent wonder. Daniel could have sworn the big black rascal winked at him.
The three of them entered the shop, and Familiar hopped lightly to the floor. He paused, as if sniffing the place, and then trotted to the kitchen, pushing open the swinging door.
"He's made himself at home," Daniel remarked.
"I think he might be extremely intelligent," Sarah said. "He gives me that impression." Sarah looked longingly up the stairs. "Would you care for anything to eat?"
"Just a blanket, a pillow and that sofa you offered," Daniel said.
Sarah nodded. She went to the kitchen door and called Familiar, but the black cat ignored her. Working with quick efficiency, she put out a saucer of milk and a small serving of poached salmon, then headed upstairs with Daniel right behind her.
When she was certain that the agent was comfortable on the sofa, Sarah crawled into her own bed. Daniel was not ten feet away, a fact that made sleep difficult to find even though she was exhausted. Every time she closed her eyes, she was tormented by thoughts of him, close enough to touch. And so forbidden. It was a strange mixture of emotions that made her toss from side to side. In spite of her attraction to him, Daniel's presence outside her door gave a sense of security she hadn't known since she was a child.
She remembered how safe she'd felt with her daddy, a sheriff, in the house. He was a lawman, like Matt Dillon on "Gunsmoke." And no harm was ever supposed to come to those he loved.
Sleep finally claimed her, and she dreamed that she awoke to the smell of coffee. Yawning, she kept her eyes closed and burrowed deeper into the pillow. It was a nice fantasy, a cup of hot coffee waiting on her bedside table.
"Sarah?"
"Yes," she answered the sexy male voice in her dream.
"I brought you some coffee."
"Wonderful." She relished the dream.
"Sarah?"
The note of worry in the voice struck her as wrong, and she opened her eyes. Daniel Dubonet, face darkened by a growth of stubble, was staring at her with very worried eyes.
"What are you doing here?" She clutched at the sheet and pulled it to her neck. A long black paw shot out of the blanket and grabbed her wrist. Familiar didn't want to be disturbed.
"I made some coffee and realized you weren't going to get up unless I forced the issue. Sorry, but I didn't want to leave without saying something."
"Well, I can drive you…" She looked around. What time was it? Morning still, the sun was slanting into the room from the east.
"I've called a cab. I'm going over to Cody's to clean up. He'll take me to my apartment. They're certainly through with the investigation, and I can get my clothes and things. If anything is left."
Sarah reached for the mug of hot coffee that enticed her on the bedside table. She felt completely disoriented, and Daniel wasn't exactly at ease. He kept sneaking peeks at her with sideways glances.
She sipped the coffee and tried to get her thoughts in order. "Why don't you let me run you over there? It won't take but a minute for me to get ready."
Daniel couldn't take his eyes off her. Her blond hair was tousled from sleep, and she was completely unaware of how appealing she looked. "I've already called a cab. Thanks for letting me stay here."
"Thanks for staying. And for checking the pepper. It makes me feel like I'm not a complete fool."
That was the thing that had been troubling him. "Sarah, what are you going to do now?"
She knew what he meant, but she didn't want to confront the issue. "Take a shower, and— "
"Sarah." His voice was half command, half request.
"I don't know." She shrugged and drank more coffee.
"I've been giving this some thought." And what he'd come up with was a big zero. Why would someone want to ruin Sarah's career? What good would that accomplish? "Do you have any rivals who might want to run you out of business? Or someone who wants to get even?"
Sarah thought. "Everyone has enemies, but I don't know of anyone who would do such a thing. I mean, it's one thing to wish someone out of business and another to make an entire roomful of people sick."
Daniel nodded. That's what he expected. There was the chance that she was lying— that she'd doctored the peppers herself. There had been no evidence of a break-in at the Bingington house. None. Sarah could have made it up.
But the evidence pointing in her behalf was his own abduction.
"What is it, Daniel?"
"I'm just trying to put the pieces together. Listen, I'll call you later this morning. About ten. Let me get cleaned up and go to the office. There's some stuff I need to take care of. What are your next assignments?"
"Let's see." She'd hardly given it a thought. "I have a birthday party for the daughter of Georgia's Senator Banks. That's tomorrow." At the thought, she felt the need to jump from bed and get ready. It was a cowboy theme, and she had to bake a bucking bronco cake and tend to the rest of the party. Children's birthdays were a real pain, but it often brought in a lot of business. Every little tyke present had parents who gave serious Washington ga
therings.
Daniel stifled a groan. Paul Gottard would delight in assigning him to some backyard fete.
Sarah could almost read his thoughts. "They're going to have real ponies. Maybe you could be a wrangler?"
"No! No way am I going to lead those brats around on ponies."
Sarah couldn't suppress her grin. "Just kidding. But it isn't a bad idea."
"I have to go, but I'll call no later than ten. Just stay here until then, can you?"
She heard the concern in his voice and nodded.
He hurried out of the room and took the stairs in rapid succession. Then there was the sound of the front door closing.
"I'd better go lock it," she whispered to Familiar. She didn't like the idea of being up in her apartment when the downstairs door wasn't secured.
She pulled on a robe and hurried down, her legs chilled by the morning. Peering through the blinds, she saw Daniel duck into the back of a cab. They pulled away from the curb with more force than necessary.
* * *
SARAH HAD JUST begun to mix the cake batter when the telephone rang. "A Taste of the South," she answered.
"Sarah, I've heard wonderful reports about yesterday."
"Thanks, Uncle Vince." Sarah had given up trying to figure out Vincent's grapevine.
"I found out that pesky agent had been assigned to the party. I wanted to apologize. I was given a promise that he wouldn't trouble you again." Vincent sighed. "There are no manners anymore, chérie. A man's word means nothing any longer. I am sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Daniel Dubonet didn't bother me at all," Sarah said. She was grinning. It would be too difficult to explain to Uncle Vince that the agent in question had spent last night at her apartment. Had left only an hour before.
"Then nothing marred your wonderful day yesterday?"
"Not a single thing."
"That's what I love to hear, my darling. Now, since you won't go to New York with me and my son, what if I make arrangements for dinner one night when we return?"
"I could cook some— "
"Absolutely not!" He laughed. "You are the best cook I know, but I believe I can throw some steaks on the grill and make do with potatoes and a salad. How does that sound?"
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