What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(79)

Max laughed. “And your own.”

“In this case,” she agreed.

Max walked off with Arthur.

Kellen relaxed and leaned on the piano. She’d been thinking the same thing, that an assassin would find the winery an easy place to take her out, and Rae and Max and... She didn’t want the winery to be a war zone.

She was happy standing here, under the tent, soaking in the summer heat, listening to the music and looking at Max as he wandered around his winery, viewing and assessing the changes.

He wasn’t sure. These weren’t his ideas. But he was a fair man, and Arthur’s enthusiasm—and the profit—was winning him over. The two men disappeared into the tasting room.

Dan said, “Arthur has spoken highly of Max and of you, and I understand Rae is your daughter.”

“That’s right.”

“She’s quite the inquisitive child. Impetuous. I understand she went with you into the mountains.”

“It was an adventure.” The heat seemed to dissipate and a shiver ran up her spine, the way it used to in Afghanistan when some unseen signal told her the enemy held them in their sights. She looked around.

A lot of people were watching her, especially the new hires, who still gave off the thrilled and nervous vibes. And that was definitely odd.

Dan switched to “Tennessee Waltz.” He still played without sheet music; what a memory he must have. “You look as if your adventure agreed with you.”

She briefly touched the still tender knot on the back of her head. “I don’t think we’ll be doing it again soon. I’d be fine with a little peace and quiet. What kind of acting did you do, Dan?”

“Mostly dramatic. I don’t have the voice for musicals, and I never wanted to be in the orchestra pit.” He smiled. “I like the attention. I like to be the lead.”

She understood. She’d been an officer. “The responsibility can be a burden, but there are undeniable privileges.”

Max was wandering through the crowd, observing the new operation. He met her gaze.

She raised her eyebrows in question. “Excuse me.”

Kellen and Max walked toward each other, and when they met under the shade of an oak, she quietly asked, “So what do we think of these changes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is this what you asked Arthur to do when you hired him?”

“Not exactly. But it seems churlish to complain when in a week the operation has grown by leaps and bounds through innovation and good hiring practices. Doesn’t it?”

“Right... We wouldn’t be suspicious of any wrongdoing if we hadn’t just been chased all over the mountains.”

“And shot at.”

They were muttering at each other, looking around, arms crossed, backs to the tree.

“I’m not getting an assassin vibe from any of the new hires,” Kellen said.

“No, but—”

An old van stopped at the end of the driveway.

The door opened, and a small, bright, brilliantly pink figure hauling a dirty pink backpack darted up the driveway yelling, “Daddy! Mommy! Daddy! Mommy!”



45


Kellen and Max converged on their daughter.

Max picked her up and kissed her, then set her on her feet.

Rae hugged Kellen’s hips, made kissing noises at Kellen’s face and demanded, “Did you bring my bag?”

“I did. I told you I would.” Rae’s smile made Kellen feel like ThunderFlash, and in turn, her smug smile at Max made him roll his eyes.

Win-win.

Predictably, Rae started talking. “Today we had show-and-tell and I told them about the Triple Goddess and being chased around the mountains by bad guys and sleeping outside and getting shot at and my ride in a helicopter.” She started toward the house.

Max stood, stunned.

Kellen followed Rae. “Sweetie, maybe you shouldn’t have told them that. It was all sort of secret.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think my teacher believed me. She said that was quite a story.”

Max caught up. “That’s good if your teacher doesn’t believe you, right?”

Rae shrugged, and Kellen thought she wasn’t quite as nonchalant as she appeared.

Rae continued, “Then we went to art to paint our pottery and Martin said nobody shot at us and I was a liar and everybody knew it. So I used my words like you told me, Daddy.”

“That’s good,” Max said cautiously.

“I told him he was wrong, that Mommy was shot and she had stitches and she passed out. He said his mommy said my mommy wasn’t a soldier, she was a hooker, and nobody would come to my birthday party because I had a bad mommy.”

Kellen got a sinking feeling. “What did you do?”

“I did like you told me to when someone is mean to a friend. I socked him right in the sternum. He fell down and hit his head on the ground and cried. He had a big smear of yellow paint on his shirt, too, because I was painting the sun. Wait.” Rae put down her backpack and dug around, then handed a piece of paper to Max. “I have a note from the camp director.”

Max opened it and read it, and winced.

At the same time, Verona walked out of the old-fashioned farmhouse, slammed the screen door behind her and shouted, “Rae Di Luca, I just got a call from Martin’s mother!”