Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(96)
Beaming, Sophy took a skipping step. “Audra will be soooo jealous.”
“Then we won’t tell her, will we?” Amanda’s voice was low and conspiratorial.
Sophy hesitated. “Grandma Amanda, what’s blas—blasma—”
“Blasphemy. That, my love, is an act of irreverence toward something sacred.”
“Will I know a lot of big words like that when I grow up?”
“When you grow up, you will walk on Mars,” Amanda Winslow said gravely. “You will own a huge international corporation and rule it with an iron hand. Who knows, you might even decide to become president.” As they crossed the porch, she glanced across at Tate, who was walking beside Cara. “Forgive me for arriving unannounced, but when Bud mentioned you were coming, I couldn’t resist. Now, is there anything I can do to help you two? Any calls to return, food to order, reporters to badger?”
“We’re all set,” Cara said. “All you need to do while you’re here is relax.”
“Relaxation always bored me. Let’s see, I packed all kinds of good things for lunch.” Amanda frowned at Cara. “Audra was looking pale when I saw her last. Has she been sick?”
Cara swallowed. “She’s been under some stress lately.”
“You should help her with that, darling. Let’s both try.” Amanda turned to her son and waved airily. “Off with you, Tate. Go find your frigid stream and cast away. We women have serious work to do.”
“Anyone for lemonade? It’s my special recipe, brought all the way from San Francisco, made with lemons, blood oranges, and all the pulp you can squeeze in.” Amanda Winslow poured three glasses and handed one to Cara, then placed the iced pitcher on a lacquer tray. “Sophy, be a love and bring me the little suitcase from the front seat of my car. I must have left all my brushes in there. You can have your lemonade when you return.”
“Okay.” The little girl stopped in the doorway and looked back. Sunlight was spilling through the big window in the upstairs bedroom, and her mother was sitting in a chair, her legs curled, looking very happy.
I want her to look like that all the time, Sophy thought. Maybe if I’m very good, I can make that happen.
Grandma Amanda was refilling her mother’s glass as Sophy skipped down the stairs, thinking about red spa slippers and strawberry mousse. She dawdled crossing the front porch, enjoying the sun on her shoulders and the stillness all around her at the ranch.
It was good to feel safe.
When she walked back with her grandmother’s little case, she kicked up dust with her sneakers, just for the fun of seeing the brown clouds dance around her. Then she heard her mother’s voice carried through the open windows above the porch, and she smiled.
At the front door she saw something on the floor behind the big leather chair her Grandma Amanda liked best, and for a frightening moment Sophy thought it was her diary, the one she never showed anyone. How had it fallen out of her knapsack?
When she remembered she had left her diary at home, locked in her desk drawer, Sophy walked closer and saw a big blue envelope, the kind that came from foreign countries. Since she collected foreign stamps, Sophy knew this stamp was in Spanish and came from Mexico.
It must have fallen when they came in, Sophy thought. The letter from Mexico probably belonged to her Grandma Amanda, who got letters from all over the world for her international charities. Sophy bent down and picked up the colored envelope.
As her fingers touched the paper, she swallowed hard. She couldn’t say why, but something about the envelope felt strange.
“Amanda, I don’t understand.”
“No? I should think it was entirely clear.” Amanda Winslow put down her Prada purse on the big, rustic dresser and turned. “I can’t allow you to destroy my son’s future, even if you’re too selfish to see that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“Why are you saying this? What makes you think—” Cara blinked, rubbing her face. Suddenly she clutched her stomach.
“Exactly, my dear.” Tate’s mother smiled faintly. “I know all about your sordid visit to that little clinic in Mexico. Los Reyes, wasn’t it?”
“But when . . . how did you find out?”
Amanda lifted her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “Really, Cara, do you think I’d let him marry just anyone? I had you investigated, of course, just as I had his other women investigated. You were the best candidate for Tate, I have to admit, and after the first date I knew he was serious about you. He wanted marriage and a family, something he’d never considered with any of the others.” Her lips pursed. “I sent a man to do some research in California. When that was done, I sent a different man to your old law school and another to that apartment you had in college. Well, guess what? Your old landlady remembered that you’d been sick one term and had to drop out of school. She also said you’d made a trip to Mexico with your sister.” Amanda stared coldly at Cara. “The next part wasn’t so easy. You covered yourself well, as any good lawyer would.” Tate’s mother moved around the bed, watching Cara closely. “Then I had a bit of luck, and the last part of the puzzle fell right into my lap, so to speak.” She smiled. “Richard Costello.”
Cara couldn’t speak. A terrible weight was squeezing her chest, driving all the air from her body. She looked at the lemonade glass, her head pounding. “No.”