Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(91)

Across the room, one of the uniformed workmen looked up briefly, shook his head, then returned to his cables.

Eva was clearly in a position of authority. Taking charge, she peered at the scheduling book, then frowned at Gabe and Summer. “You are Mr. and Mrs. Walker?”

“Yes, and we’re still considering several other clinics.” Gabe slid his arm around Summer’s stiff shoulders. “We are supposed to have a tour, then speak with the director. Are you sure that nothing is scheduled for us?”

The woman peered at the appointment log. “You’re right. See, Molly? The evaluation was for the Wiltons, not the Walkers, and the Walkers are to meet Dr. Underhill, not the director. I remember seeing an e-mail about that change early this morning.”

The receptionist frowned. “I didn’t get that e-mail.”

“Never mind, I’ll handle it, Molly.” The woman smiled at Gabe. “I can take you down to meet Dr. Underhill, one of our senior research scientists. If you’re certain you don’t want to get started with an evaluation, that is.”

“Absolutely,” Summer said sweetly.

“In that case, let’s take this door.”

One hurdle crossed, Summer thought grimly.

Now all they had to do was pick up Underhill and get the hell out of Dodge.



Los Reyes Clinic spread over five gorgeous, wooded acres, and in the daylight, Summer could see that no expense had been spared in its design. Every inch of space suggested a world-class spa rather than a medical facility.

While their guide rambled on about an eighteenth-century colonial governor who had lived here with various mistresses, Summer checked surreptitiously for signs of extra security or surveillance, but, unlike the night before, the cobblestone courtyards and green lawns seemed completely peaceful. Nothing disturbed the international roster of patients who demanded state-of-the-art medical care in a luxurious setting.

Each residence had its own outdoor spa, private garden, and balcony; inside were stone fireplaces and high-tech computer data ports. To Summer’s relief, no guards were anywhere in evidence.

She smiled at their guide as they walked past the power shed where she and Gabe had gained entrance the night before. “Everything looks state-of-the-art. How long has the clinic been in operation?”

“About forty years. When Dr. Teller purchased the clinic, he updated the facilities, focusing on infertility, though the clinic used to handle a broad range of medical problems. Right now we’re in the middle of scaling up our research and data-storage areas. As you know, we have an international staff and patient base now.”

As they passed the pool, Summer saw two women on teak lounges reading novels. She realized that the things in their mouths were thermometers—the only sign that they were at a medical facility, not a Four Seasons resort.

Not too far away, two more men in gray uniforms were stringing cable and installing new wiring.

Gabe took Summer’s arm. “My wife and I definitely want to see the labs. We may not be scientists, but we want to be certain that safe, hygienic conditions exist for the sake of our child.”

Their guide smiled. “Dr. Underhill is very knowledgeable. He doesn’t give many tours, but I’m sure you’ll find him helpful. When you’re finished, he can escort you back to the office.”

“Don’t worry about us, Eva,” Gabe said pleasantly. “I’m sure Dr. Underhill can point us in the right direction when we’re done.”



“‘Safe, hygienic conditions’?” Summer murmured as they followed their guide across the courtyard into the fenced lab area.

“I’m a responsible father-to-be.” Gabe scanned the high fences and the halogen security lights scattered around the lab complex. “Someone paid a bundle for this setup. Making babies must be big business.”

“For this clientele, at least.” Summer watched Eva slide a plastic ID card through a security scanner. There was a discreet buzz, followed by a synthesized voice that said “Eva Breuner. Entrance approved.”

“Very nice.”

“There were no checkpoints like this anywhere else,” Summer pointed out quietly. “Tighter security here.”

Gabe leaned closer to Summer. “Heads up,” he whispered. “Underhill at three o’clock.”

Terence Underhill was walking toward them, looking rumpled and cranky, like a man who’d spent most of the night fighting bad dreams.

He stopped beside Eva, frowning. “Sorry, my last experiment hit a snag. This is Mr. and Mrs. Walker, I take it?”

“Yes, Dr. Underhill. They were worried about whether we have safe, hygienic conditions here.”

“Nonsense, we have the best equipment and the finest staff available.” Underhill stared at Gabe. “Are you a scientist, Mr. Walker?”

“No, but my wife and I are willing to pay for the very best.”

Underhill pulled out an ID card. “I’ll escort them from here, Eva. And I’ll be sure they finish on time.” The scientist turned and slid his ID card through the security scanner. “After you, please.”

Inside the lab, Summer noticed low-profile surveillance cameras mounted above the molding all along the corridor, and Underhill was limiting his conversation to generalities. When they came to an inner set of double doors, he slid his card into a small slot, and a green light flashed on. “This is our hormone test center. You may find it interesting.”