Sam turned serious. “I will be talking to her about you.”
“I know. I’ll talk to her, too. We don’t keep secrets. I just really hate making her worry, and I hate that I put her in danger.”
“You aren’t responsible for any of this.”
He saw the worry creeping into her eyes. “So after Gigi and I talk about the serious stuff, I’m allowed to discuss the weather. Anything else?”
“Food. She’s a great cook. You’ll gain five pounds by tomorrow,” she promised.
“I know what I’ll talk about,” he said with a teasing grin.
“What’s that?” she asked warily.
“Long good-byes.” He reached over and ran his hand up her thigh. “How about I tell her about really long good-byes?”
Lyra playfully slapped his hand away. “Speaking of long goodbyes … when does the new bodyguard take over?”
“I’ll talk to Alec and let you know.” To change the subject, he quickly asked, “Are we getting close?”
“We’re here. The one on the end is my grandmother’s house. Park in the back.”
Gigi opened the kitchen door and stood on the stoop waiting to greet them. She started talking as they approached from the car. “You know I’m always happy to see you, Lyra, but I’m also vexed that you think I can’t take care of myself. There was no need for you to drop everything and drive here. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Lyra kissed her on the cheek. “I know that,” she said, “but something has happened and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
Sam walked up with the bags and Lyra made the introductions. “Grandmother, I would like you to meet FBI agent Sam Kincaid. Sam, this is Gigi.”
He dropped his bag and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“FBI agent? And with a brogue. Scottish?”
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Where are my manners? Come in, come in.”
She stepped out of the way and held the door for them. “Agent Kincaid, will you be spending the night?”
“Yes.”
Gigi didn’t bat an eye. “Lyra, will you show Agent Kincaid to the guest room?”
“Please call me Sam.”
“Of course,” she said. “Just one question.”
Lyra knew she had a hundred questions but they would probably wait until after dinner. Then Sam would get the grilling of his life.
“Yes?”
“Are you on the job now?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“And you’re working with Lyra?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll make a fresh pitcher of tea.”
Lyra led Sam upstairs. They could hear pounding and Lyra assumed Gigi’s handyman was at work on some project. Lyra entered a soft blue bedroom. She feared the queen-sized bed might be small for Sam, but the mattress was good. She explained that they would share a bathroom.
The floors in the old house creaked when he crossed the hall to put Lyra’s things in her room. The walls were painted a pale yellow. It was a feminine room with its white comforter, white curtains, and tray of perfumes on the dresser. Sam set her bags on a chair and followed her to the door. When she turned around to tell him something, she bumped into him. He grabbed her arms to steady her and neither of them moved, their bodies touching. All she had to do was look up at him, and he couldn’t resist. He took her face between his hands and gently kissed her.
She had to kiss him back. Lyra was wrapping her arms around him when Gigi called up, “Lyra, dear, let me know if it’s too hot up there.”
He pulled away from her. “It could get hotter.”
“No, it couldn’t. Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
Gigi’s home was what Lyra called a “straight through.” The front door opened into the living room, which opened into the dining room, which opened to the kitchen. There was a small room behind the kitchen that Gigi had converted into a study.
“Gigi’s room is down this hall, across from the bathroom,” she pointed out. The pounding was getting louder.
Gigi had put on an apron and was wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Come have a glass of iced tea.”
Harlan came up from the basement, said hello to Lyra, and was introduced to Sam.
“Would you like some tea, Harlan?”
“No thanks. I’ve got to pick up the kids. It’s getting on.”
“Yes, it is,” Gigi said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Remember, I’ll be late. I’ve got to pick up supplies for the new shelves.”
Sam walked to the door with the handyman and stood talking to him on the porch for several minutes.
“Agent Kincaid is quite handsome,” Gigi said peering through the open door. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m not waiting until after dinner to hear what’s going on, Lyra. If something has happened, I need to know about it.”
Lyra waited for Sam to return before broaching the subject. Gigi sat across the table from the two of them.
“Where should I start?” Lyra asked Sam.
“The yard sale,” he answered.
As Lyra recounted the events of the last few days, her grandmother sat silently, listening intently. When Lyra was finished, Gigi folded her hands on the table and thought for a minute.
“It’s a blessing neither you nor Sidney was seriously hurt.” She paused another few seconds before saying, “And you believe those two men who showed up here earlier today were looking for the things you packed and sent to the ranch?”
“That’s certainly a possibility,” Sam answered. “I’ve already talked to the field office in L.A., and they’ve got a couple of men on this. They’ll notify the police here so they’ll be aware of the situation.”
Lyra explained, “Sam’s a good friend of Alec Buchanan. He’s acting as my bodyguard for the time being.”
Gigi patted Sam’s hand. “Well, I’m sure Lyra is in good hands.”
Lyra was relieved that Gigi was remaining so calm. “Shall we take our drinks out on the front porch? It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Lyra suggested.
“You two go ahead. I’ll turn the air up,” Gigi said.
Sam sat next to Lyra on the swing, his arm draped across the back. Every now and then his hand brushed her neck.
Gigi joined them. “I’m so ashamed you’re seeing my garden like this. It’s in such disarray. For the life of me, I can’t understand why nothing will grow. Two years in a row now! I used to have such a lovely garden, didn’t I, Lyra? Now it doesn’t even respond to holy water.”
Sam got up from the porch swing and walked down the steps with Gigi. He bent, pulled a leaf off one plant, and held it up to examine. On one knee, he dug a couple of inches into the soil. “What are you spraying on the plants?” he asked.
“Holy water, of course …” Gigi said as though everyone did it.
“Besides the holy water.”
“Last year, I tried all sorts of fertilizer and pesticides, but this year only water.”
He took Gigi’s arm as they went back to the porch.
“What’s happened to my green thumb?” she asked.
Lyra was sympathetic. “Maybe next year …”
Sam couldn’t believe two smart women wouldn’t know what was happening.
“It’s poison,” he said.
Gigi sat down and turned to Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam. What did you say?”
“It’s poison,” he repeated.
Gigi shot out of her chair like a bottle rocket. “Someone is poisoning my flowers?”
“Actually, it’s not the flowers themselves. It’s the soil.”
Lyra nudged him. “Are you certain?”
“Ah, come on. Look at it. Someone’s put some kind of herbicide in the soil.”
“Lyra?” Gigi said, huffing with rage.
“Yes, Gigi.” Lyra had only seen that look in Gigi’s eyes a couple of times in her li
fe, and she knew what was coming.
“Go get my thirty-eight.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
IF LYRA HADN’T BEEN THERE TO CALM GIGI DOWN, SAM WAS convinced the irate woman would have grabbed her gun and marched across the yard to her neighbor’s house. He doubted she’d actually pull the trigger, but he was certain she’d have no qualms in using the weapon as a deterrent.
“How can you be sure Mrs. Castman is responsible for the dead flowers?” Lyra asked.
Gigi stopped her furious pacing long enough to answer. “Of course it was her! Who else would be so diabolical? I knew there was something strange going on when she was so sympathetic about my garden.”
Imitating her neighbor’s condescending voice, Gigi crooned, “‘Oh, I’m so sorry you’re having trouble with your petunias this year … Maybe the nursery sold you a bad batch … It’s a shame you worked so hard and have so little to show for it…. I’m sure you’ll do better next year.’ I’ll bet those bottles of water she carried from the church were just a hoax to throw me off. I have half a mind to go over there and rip out every single flower she planted.”
When she took the first steps off the porch, Sam rushed to her side. He slipped his arm through hers and patted her hand. “You know, Gigi, there might be another way to handle this. You do want Mrs. Castman to admit she’s responsible, don’t you?”
Gigi stopped and thought about it. “Yes, I suppose she’d never admit what she’s done if I destroyed her garden the way she’s destroyed mine.” She looked tearfully at her dry and wilting flowers. “I’m afraid nothing’s going to bring them back now.”
“That’s right,” Sam agreed.
Gigi straightened her shoulders and looked at Sam with vengeance in her eyes. “What can we do?”
“I think this calls for a little undercover work,” he said.
“Like FBI undercover work?”
“Exactly,” he said as he led her back to the porch.
Gigi was incredibly pleased to have an FBI agent on the case. They sat and talked until dusk, watching the sun slip beneath the ocean’s horizon.
Neither Sam nor Lyra was particularly hungry, but later, when Gigi called them into the kitchen and set fresh baked bread and bowls of chowder in front of them, they were suddenly starved.
“It’s been a long day,” Gigi said. “I’m going to turn in.”
After clearing the dishes, Lyra stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I think I’ll go to bed as well.” She kissed Sam on the cheek and went upstairs.
Sam’s phone signaled a text. It was his third from Alec asking about the bodyguard that Sam had dismissed. He decided to stop putting off the conversation and went out on the porch to return the call.
“What the hell, Sam?” Alec began.
“You called?”
“What was wrong with Brick?”
“He wasn’t right.”
“And just how wasn’t he right?” Alec’s exasperation came through loud and clear.
“I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Lyra with him.”
“I see.” Alec drew out the words as though he’d just made an intriguing discovery.
“See what?” Sam asked irritably. He didn’t give Alec time to speculate. “We’re in San Diego now. I don’t know when Lyra will go back to L.A.”
“I heard about the explosive under the car,” Alec said, his voice serious now. “And the shooters coming at you in the park. I understand they’re locked up.”
“They’re not talking.”
“They’re not getting bail, either.”
They talked about the case for some time, each posing theories on the who and the why, and then Alec said, “Don’t you have things to do? Like giving speeches and getting back to D.C.?”
“Yes, I do, but I can stay one, maybe two more nights. I’ll call you when I need someone to take over. Probably the day after tomorrow.”
“What about Brick taking—”
“Hell no,” Sam said quickly. “I don’t think he’s qualified.”
“Are you kidding me? He was in Special Forces,” he reminded Sam.
“Got to go, Alec. Talk to you soon.”
Alec was still talking when Sam disconnected the call.
He made sure all the doors were locked and went upstairs to get ready for bed.
He was coming out of the bathroom when Lyra opened her bedroom door. “I forgot to tell you where the towels are.”
“I found them.”
“Good night then.”
She stepped back to close the door, but he was walking toward her. His chest was bare, and he wore only his khaki pants, but it didn’t seem to matter whether he was fully clothed or wore nothing at all: he took her breath away. Backing her into her room, he quietly shut the door behind him.
She shook her head. “We can’t sleep together in Gigi’s house.”
“We can be quiet.”
He pulled her into his arms and slid his hand behind her neck, gently twisting her hair in his fist. He forced her chin up as his mouth covered hers. His tongue swept inside and rubbed against hers.
Her resistance was dissolving, but she found enough strength to say, “No, we shouldn’t …”
“Okay, we won’t.”
He was nibbling on her neck, sending shivers all the way to her toes. She put her palms against his chest, but his kisses became more demanding and more arousing. She couldn’t be certain who removed her pajamas. She thought she had done it, but Sam might have helped.
His mouth slanted over hers again and again, and he groaned when her soft breasts rubbed against him. When his caresses became more intimate, she tugged on his hair and begged him to stop tormenting her.
“Take me to bed,” she demanded.
Twice he had to quiet her with his mouth as she climaxed. His own release was so powerful, his entire body tightened against her. He wanted to shout her name, but he groaned against her neck instead.
Long minutes passed as they clung to each other. Then Sam gently kissed her brow, whispered good night, and left her.
Lyra heard water running. Deep inside, she felt a longing. She knew he would go back to the guest room, but she wished he would sleep with her.
It suddenly dawned on her that these were the thoughts of someone who was needy. Not good, she told herself. Not good at all. She didn’t want to go to sleep worrying about such things, so instead, she focused on the positive. She thought about his smile and how it made her want to sigh, and the way he watched out for her, and how calm he was in the face of disaster.
She was drifting off to sleep when Sam slipped into bed beside her. She opened her eyes slightly. His gun was on the bedside table, which meant he was there for the night. Feeling his arms around her, she fell asleep with a smile.
———
LYRA WOKE UP to pounding. For a second she thought it was an earthquake; the house felt as though it was moving. She bolted up in bed and looked around for Sam, but he wasn’t there. She cleared her head enough to realize the pounding had a rhythm to it. Someone was downstairs making all the noise.
Oh, no. What was Gigi having Harlan do now? She had enough shelves to open a shoe store. He couldn’t be building more, could he?
If Lyra and Gigi were home alone, she would have gone downstairs in her robe, but Gigi would have heart failure if Lyra wasn’t dressed for the day with two men in the house. Muttering to herself, she took a shower and got dressed in a navy skirt and white blouse. She was just starting down as Sam was coming up to get her. He had a goofy grin on his face.
Immediately suspicious, she said, “What?”
He shook his head. “Come see.”
Lyra followed the pounding and found Harlan smashing a giant hole in Gigi’s bedroom wall. He’d hung a clear plastic drape to keep the dust and drywall inside his work area. Spotting Lyra, he lifted his mask and waved, then went back to work.
Lyra stood as though in a stupor for a few seconds before abruptly turning and going into the kitchen.
She was pouring herself a glass of orange juice when Gigi walked in.
“Good morning. You slept late today. It’s almost nine.”
Sam was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Lyra pulled out a chair and sat, but she didn’t stay there long.
“Is Harlan building more shelves?” she asked.
“No, dear. It’s my panic room.”
Lyra nearly knocked the glass of juice over when she shot up. “What? A what?”
“A panic room. Surely you know what those are.”
Lyra dropped into her chair and looked up at Sam.
He folded his arms across his chest and said, “I tried to explain to your grandmother that she might be overreacting to the news she heard yesterday …”
You think? she wanted to say.
She looked across the table at Gigi waiting anxiously for her opinion. “I think it’s a great idea,” Lyra said.
Gigi nodded. “There you are, Sam. She agrees with me.” Smiling, she went to see how Harlan was doing.
Sam pulled out a chair, straddled it, and stacked his hands across the back. He leaned in and stated, “A panic room.”
“Yes, I know. And why not? Yes, this house is small, but Gigi’s bedroom is good-sized, and she has a closet she doesn’t need, so why not build a panic room? It will make her feel safer.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and started to laugh. “In a little while, I’ve got to go next door and terrorize an old lady into confessing that she’s killing Gigi’s flowers. Don’t know why I was so surprised by a panic room. I should have taken it all in stride after hearing about the holy water.”
Gigi poked her head in the doorway. “Do you want some toast, Lyra? Sam?”
“No thanks.”
“Sam, dear, did you tell Lyra the news?”
“I was just about to.”
Gigi disappeared down the hall, and he turned back to Lyra. “There’s more news?” she asked. “What else is Harlan building?”
“Your brothers called Gigi. They want her to come home. I assume that’s the ranch. Your brothers heard about the break-in … everything, actually.”
“How did they hear? Who told them?”
Before she could become outraged, Sam said, “Two FBI agents appeared at their doorstep and took the boxes, remember?”
Sizzle Page 18
