Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(89)

Summer’s face was unreadable as he sat down.

A few minutes later his cell phone rang.

“Yes,” he said tersely, while he monitored traffic at the front of the hotel.

“It’s me.” The voice was Underhill’s, low and shaky. “They discovered the guard you left tied up in the shed, and now all the staff is being watched. I have new information for you, but the only way I can make contact with you is if you keep your morning appointment. Understand? Have your driver go around and wait at the loading dock behind the lab. I’ll meet you for your tour.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s vital information about Costello—and someone else in your government. A senator.”

“Keep talking,” Gabe said coldly.

“I can’t. There are people here.”

“You can’t get away?”

“Don’t you think I’d try if I could?” Underhill’s voice broke. “I need your help. No one will question a hotel limousine carrying prospective clinic patients. If you don’t come here, I—” He stopped suddenly. His voice changed, all flat and businesslike. “Yes, I’ll be right there. Of course I remember the staff meeting.” Underhill cleared his throat. “And you’ll have those beakers and pipettes ready for me by tomorrow morning? Excellent. I’ll be over in a moment.”

The phone went dead. Underhill had company, it seemed.

Gabe put away the phone. “Change of plans. We need to keep our clinic appointment after all. Underhill has new intel about Costello’s connections. One of them may be a senator. Underhill can’t get away and we need what he knows, so we get ready to move.” Gabe glanced at Summer. “Any problems with that?”

She frowned. “Let’s go change so we can meet Izzy and then finish this.”



Izzy was sitting on the back fender of a dusty Jeep Rubicon with 32-inch tires and a gouged hood.

Gabe checked out the rugged car with interest. “Nice wheels, Teague. You do much off-roading?”

“You better believe it. This baby has skid plates, front and rear differential wheel locks, and reinforced driveshafts. I could take a rock wall without spilling my coffee.”

“No kidding.”

Summer cleared her throat loudly. “Before you two get swept up in the passions of engine torque and gearing ratios, I’d like an update on Underhill.”

“Coming right up.” Izzy produced a sleek PDA and pushed a few buttons.

“What’s that?” Summer asked, peeking over his shoulder.

“High-res satellite shots of the clinic. We happen to be in luck, because there are no clouds today.”

“Those are real-time high-res shots?” Gabe shook his head. “I don’t want to know how you got clearance for that.”

“That’s right, you don’t.” Izzy zoomed in on an image, frowning. “Something’s going on. There’s a hell of a lot more activity at the clinic than when I checked last.”

“What kind of activity?”

“Two Mercedes, a Hummer, and three delivery trucks. More workmen from the electrical company that was working on-site at the clinic yesterday. No sign of Underhill, but something’s definitely happening over there.”

“Not good.”

“What do you say?” Izzy asked quietly.

Gabe sat down on the opposite fender of the Jeep. “Stay ready to move, but let’s give it ten minutes. I want to know what’s happening at the clinic.”





[page]chapter 32

Gabe was wearing a perfectly tailored Armani suit as he watched Summer move through the sunlight. She was elegant and sexy in a gray silk dress that fit her like a second skin. When they walked through the lobby, half a dozen men turned and stared.

The thought hit him that Summer could be involved with someone, despite Izzy’s research.

The possibility left him scowling.

“What’s wrong?”

They were almost at the front entrance to the hotel. Gabe considered the casual, roundabout approach and scrapped the idea. “Are you seeing anyone?” he demanded.

“What?”

“Involved, Mulvaney.” He almost slipped and used her real name. “Having sex in a committed consensual relationship with another adult, be that male or female.”

“None of your business.”

They walked outside into a perfect day. The sky was a blinding blue, and the sun shimmered on her hair, picking up glints of bronze and auburn. The scent of her shampoo, a subtle mix of apples and cinnamon, was driving Gabe crazy. “Damn it, Summer, just tell me if—”

“No.”

“No, you won’t or—”

“No, there’s no one.”

“Good,” he said harshly. He’d already heard it from Izzy, but he wanted to hear the answer from Summer.

“Why is that good?”

“Because if you were involved with someone, you’d be thinking about him instead of the job.” And I might have to kill him, Gabe thought. “If you’re distracted, you’re more likely to make mistakes.”

“What about you? How many women are penciled in to your date book, breathlessly awaiting your return?”

“I don’t keep a date book.” Gabe frowned, scanning the dozen cars parked in front of the hotel. Only one woman had ever distracted him from his work. Right now she was six inches away, smelling like apples on a summer day and driving him crazy.