Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(58)

Imelda peeked inside. “I’m finished. Do you need anything before I leave?”

“Not a thing.” Smiling, Patrick offered her a freshly baked croissant. “Take one for the road.”

Imelda sighed. “You are very bad for me, Patrick.”

“When you’re in my kitchen, there’s no willpower allowed.” Flipping his towel over one shoulder, the chef leaned back against the granite sink. “Did you hear that truck noise earlier? Ms. Mulvaney told me one of the workmen dropped his hammer and broke an upstairs window.”

“I heard the window break. It is like a gunshot, I am thinking. And so much glass in the bedroom. It is good that one of the workmen came soon after to help me clean or I would still be working.”

“One of the workmen? Funny, I never knew one who was anxious to do cleanup.”

“Oh, he is a very nice man. Very strong hands. If I am ten years younger . . .” Imelda smiled, mischief in her eyes. “But I am not, so I will drive home to my cats and my crossword puzzles instead. You are leaving soon?”

“In half an hour,” Patrick said cheerfully. “Or I may wait until Ms. O’Connor comes home. I like to be sure the food is hot when they’re ready to eat.”

“Such a conscientious man.” Imelda nodded approvingly. “Some woman will be very lucky to have a fine husband like you, Patrick.”

“Oh, I’m too busy to get married. Give me the field any day.” Smiling, he waved good-bye to the housekeeper, then went back to his perfectly rising dough.

The chemistry of making bread was always an intricate challenge, and Patrick Flanagan liked to test himself. It was pleasant to be close to his new family, too. For so many years he had been without roots or clear purpose.

But no longer. As he kneaded the soft dough, he thought about the powder in the jar he kept at the bottom of his leather satchel. The little bottle hidden on a shelf in his apartment.

His hands tightened, squeezing dough out through his fingers like strips of pale skin. All it would take was a few pinches.

Control, he thought sharply. No sudden changes of plan. There would be time for action soon enough. The gunshot had gone perfectly. His friend had left his kayak, climbed onto a rock out of sight, and fired as planned. The warning had been delivered.

The dead rat had been Patrick’s contribution. He still had to smile at the look of sheer terror on Amanda Winslow’s face in the garage. One minute she was snapping out orders, the next she was babbling in terror. So delicious.

As a boy he’d never been able to lie well. But now he was a man, and he’d discovered he had a real gift for shaping his lies to suit different people. He considered his next lie as he kneaded the dough one last time. At first, all that had been asked of him was simple surveillance, acting as a set of eyes and ears inside the house, but soon other assignments had come. It had been easy for him to read Cara O’Connor’s personal mail, then pass on the information in his neat, detailed handwriting. It had been simple to hint to Audra that she was overweight and ugly, but of course he loved her anyway. How kind he had been, sympathizing with Cara O’Connor’s busy schedule and her terrible regret at missing such a large part of her girls’ day. He laughed when he thought how subtly he had fueled all her regrets.

Delicious, he thought. He loved being a chef, but his new career was so much more satisfying. He would receive another twenty thousand dollars soon.

“Bread’s done,” he said happily. “Now to the oven.”

He stared around his gleaming kitchen. Yes, he’d have a lovely meal ready and waiting for his favorite family.





[page]chapter 20

Audra and Sophy paced anxiously. Summer had tried to distract them with offers of food, television, and a Frisbee game, but the girls weren’t interested. They were worried that their mother wasn’t home yet, and soon Summer was feeling anxious, too. She was pulling out her phone to call Cara when a green Saturn raced around the corner and up the driveway.

When Cara emerged, clutching her briefcase, she looked rattled. “Sorry, my battery died, and I had to get a tow into Monterey. Thankfully they had a loaner.” She hugged Sophy and smoothed Audra’s hair. “No long faces allowed.”

“You should have called,” Audra said in a high, tight voice. “I was—we were all worried about you. You always tell me to call. And Patrick’s been keeping dinner warm for hours and everything.”

Cara had a stricken look on her face as she leaned down to hug Audra hard. “I’m okay, honey. We’re all okay. This weekend up at the ranch is going to be wonderful.”

“You still should have called,” Audra muttered. “And what was wrong with your car battery? Didn’t you buy one two months ago?”

“I suppose the salt air took its toll.” Cara rubbed her neck, frowning. “I’ll ask when they bring the car back.” She glanced at her watch and gasped. “Yikes, let’s go see Patrick and have dinner. Then I need to pack. Who wants to help?”

“Me,” Sophy said, waving a pink glove.

“I’d better help, too.” Audra took her mother’s arm. “Last time you forgot to pack any socks, remember?”

“I’m so glad I have you to keep an eye on me, honey.” As Cara patted her daughter’s arm, she glanced at Summer. “Are you packed, too?”