Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(7)

“No potting soil here.” Gabe moved past her, frowning. “I don’t remember Audra bringing her bag inside. The girls know this shed is off-limits because I keep pesticides and some pretty deadly stuff in here.”

Summer scanned the room again. “Audra said it was here.” She frowned at Gabe. “If you’ve got poisons out here, why don’t you keep the door locked?”

“Never had a problem before. The girls are old enough—and smart enough—to follow directions when their mother lays down the law.” The gardener dug under a burlap bag and cursed when he pulled out a pair of old sneakers. “I wondered where these were hiding.”

Summer tried to control her impatience. “Sophy has a ballet class in forty minutes, and I need to find that bag before we leave. Do you have any idea where it could be, Mr. Morgan?”

He rubbed his jaw. “I told you, I haven’t seen it. Maybe Audra was confused. Or maybe she—”

The door banged hard behind them. Gravel skittered outside the window.

In one swift movement, Gabe grabbed the door handle and shoved, but nothing happened. “Probably the wind.” He gave another push. “It gets pretty rough here near the coast.”

“Let me try.” Summer leaned around him and gave the door a shove.

Nothing moved.

She frowned at Gabe. “What’s going on?”

“I think we just got nailed.” He jerked the door handle impatiently. “Again.”





[page]chapter 3

Summer glared at the door. “Then help me un-nail things,” she said tightly. “I’ve got to get Sophy to class on time. She’s terrified of her ballet teacher.”

Gabe put his shoulder to the door and rammed hard. The whole shed shook, wall to wall, but the door didn’t budge. “No good. If I push again, this roof may come down on our heads.” Striding around Summer, he searched the single window. His strong hands traced the sill, then worked slowly along the bottom frame, but that didn’t budge, either.

“Locked. Looks like someone jammed a piece of wood to hold it that way, too.” He pulled a gardening stool in front of the window and climbed up to examine the top of the frame. “This one has a screw added up here. I could break it free, but it might take a while.”

“I don’t want to leave the girls alone, so this has to be fast.” Summer found another stool and climbed up beside him. “Why don’t we break the window?”

Gabe shook his head. “Not with all those mullions.”

A mullion was some kind of fish, wasn’t it? Summer frowned, trying to make sense of what he’d said.

“These little pieces of wood can get pretty messy,” Gabe muttered. “It could take an hour or two.” Their hips bumped as he reached up to the fiberglass roof.

Summer ignored a sharp ping of awareness. Good God, the man was built. “No other windows.” She looked up. “One small skylight.”

“But I doubt either of us could fit through.”

“There has to be some other way.” Summer pulled out her cell phone and dialed tensely.

“Good thought. Imelda or Patrick can come out and check the door.”

But no one picked up at the house. The line was busy—once, twice, six times. “Off the hook,” Summer muttered.

“Either that or Audra is yakking with one of her friends. If those girls set this up, I’m going to burn their backsides myself,” Gabe said grimly. “It’s definitely a war out there, kids against the grown-ups. Too bad no one warned the grown-ups.” Gabe studied Summer. “You sure you’re a nanny? No offense, but you don’t exactly look like the type.”

“And what type is that, Mr. Morgan?”

“Gabe, damn it. And the type is small, fluttery. Lots of chatter and big hair. Black reading glasses on a gold neck chain. You know.”

Summer tried the house again on her cell phone, then gave up in disgust. “What century are you living in? There are male and female nannies now, and they aren’t white-haired ladies with knitting needles, either. For your information, being a nanny today requires high qualifications and serious educational credentials, along with security training.”

“No need to bite my head off. I was just making a comment, not maligning the gravity of your profession.”

“Weren’t you?” Summer jammed her cell phone into her pocket and stared at the locked door in disgust. “Speaking of professions, you’re a landscaper. Why don’t you call one of your ground crew to come open the door?”

“Only me working today.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in unruly spikes. “The rest of my people are setting trees in a new home up north of Monterey.”

“Just great.” There were other people to call, but Summer refused to start day one of her new assignment with a rescue plea to 911. There had to be some other answer.

“I’m going up there.” She studied the narrow ledge next to the skylight in the fiberglass roof. “I’ll need a ladder.”

“All I have is a four-footer.” The gardener shook his head. “But it isn’t safe. I’m not sure how much weight this roof will hold. I can guarantee that it won’t hold me.”

“There’s no other choice. I’m supposed to be taking care of the girls.”