“Don’t start, Gram!” Kate ordered, gesturing with her fork.
“Oh, please, it’s one of my favorite memories.”
Kate groaned, and Walt looked at his wife. “You say that now,” he pointed out, “but at the time you were beside yourself.”
“Well it was a brand-new dress,” Dorothy said.
“It was stiff and scratchy and horridly uncomfortable,” Kate said flatly.
“Not for long,” Dorothy said ruefully.
“That’s what you get,” Walt said, “for trying to make a tomboy a girly-girl.”
“I wasn’t a tomboy,” Kate protested.
“You weren’t a girly-girl, either,” her grandfather pointed his own fork at her.
“You were,” Dorothy intoned somewhat regally, “a delightful combination of both, as the situation suited.”
“Well, except for that time with the tree,” Kate said, and Rand saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She was fighting a laugh, he could see it, and he loved the sparkle it put in her eyes.
Although he inwardly recoiled from his own thoughts, he didn’t think anything had shown in his face. That is, until Walt pointed out, “It’s rude to discuss this in front of Rand, without explaining.”
Kate gave Rand a sideways look. The sparkle of humor was still there. “There’s not much to explain. I was eleven. Gram bought me this awful, stiff, frilly dress. It hurt just to wear.”
Rand flicked a glance from her to her grandmother, who was smiling widely, and back again.
“And you took care of this how?”
“I fell out of the maple tree.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I’d climbed it to hide, so I didn’t have to go to whatever it was, a wedding or something.”
“And promptly fell face-down in the big puddle underneath,” Dorothy said, her smile a grin now.
Kate’s grin broke loose now. “I was mud from head to toe.”
“I bet the dress was softer then,” Rand said.
Kate laughed then. It was a lovely, silvery sound, just as it had been the other day, and he felt a sudden, fervent hope that he wouldn’t have to do anything that would quell that laugh.
“It was,” Kate agreed. “Problem solved, as far as I could see. Softer dress, didn’t have to go to the wedding, I was happy.”
“So, are you still a problem solver?”
“That she is,” Walt said proudly, but Rand noticed Kate went suddenly still. She lowered her eyes to her plate as if to avoid her grandfather’s eyes.
“Everybody says she’s lucky to work for Redstone,” Dorothy put in, “but I think they’re lucky to have her.”
“From everything I’ve heard,” Rand said neutrally, “it’s usually mutual with Redstone.”
Kate’s gaze shot to his face. “From everything you’ve heard?”
“It’s hard to avoid hearing about it when Josh Redstone’s face is on the cover of Time, Newsweek or Forbes about every other week,” Walt said, nothing but respect in his voice. “That man’s a marvel, all right.”
You don’t know the half of it, Rand thought. “Have you ever met him?” he said, careful to make his tone casual, idle.
“He interviewed me,” Kate said.
“Oh?”
His surprise wasn’t that Josh had interviewed an applicant for what was a fairly low-ranking position, at least relative to the size of Redstone itself. He often did that. His surprise was that it hadn’t been in her file. Josh rarely made mistakes about people, and if he had personally hired someone, that would be a factor he hadn’t taken into account. A factor definitely in her favor.
Which was, he realized suddenly, likely why it wasn’t in the file he’d seen. Draven wouldn’t want him going in biased, and knowing this woman had made it past Josh’s radar would definitely have done that.
Of course, she likely was clean, back then. Perhaps it was only now that she’d become desperate—desperate to help the people she’d made clear meant more to her than anything on earth. People did some things they would never ordinarily do when the people they loved were in need. There was no doubt she loved her grandparents enough to do whatever it took to take care of them.
But the thought that she might have crossed the line so far as to steal from Redstone made him faintly ill, and it was all he could do to finish Dorothy’s tasty meat loaf.
Kate couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt well-rested. They were coming up on another shipment of the pumps, and her worry was beginning to build. That resulted in less sleep, which seemed to compound itself; the less she got, the less she got.
She shook her head and groaned inwardly; even her ramblings didn’t make sense anymore. She unlocked her center desk drawer and pulled out the copies of the two police reports on the previous thefts. She practically knew them by heart, but still she took them out every other day or so for another read, hoping to see something she’d missed before, or something that hadn’t meant anything before but did now. She never did, but that didn’t stop her from trying.
It was impossible. She shoved the reports back in the drawer and slammed it shut. Nothing ever changed. The trucks were loaded and secured by the night shift. The only one who ever came near it after that was the night mechanic doing a routine maintenance check on the vehicle, which never involved him entering the cargo area. The drivers arrived early in the morning, picked up the vehicle, doors still locked. When they arrived at the buyer’s facility, they were still locked. There was no sign of any tampering. Yet the precious cargo was missing, leaving nothing but empty boxes.
It gnawed at her, and she felt it was her fault, no matter what anyone said. And she was going to feel that way until the thefts were resolved and the guilty party caught. It wasn’t her reputation she was worried about, at least not solely. The thefts had to stop, if for no other reason than people really needed those pumps. It was the sensor that made it miraculous—the sensor that continually tested the patient’s blood and dispensed necessary insulin before any damage could be done.
Eventually Redstone hoped that the pumps would control some of the worst side effects of diabetes, like blindness and amputations. She’d heard they were also looking into the possibility the sensor could be adapted for other needed substances, such as human growth hormone. And that somebody would steal something with the potential to help so many people made her faintly ill.
She was still pondering it a few minutes later when she came out of the market. She’d stopped there to get a few things to restock her cupboards after eating at her grandparents for the past three days. It was only because Gram kept fixing her favorite meals, she told herself. It had nothing to do with the fact that Rand had also been joining them.
She yanked her mind back to where it needed to be. She just didn’t see how the thefts could be happening. She’d talked to everyone who ever had access to those trucks or the shipments, and she couldn’t believe any of them were involved. She couldn’t think of anyone who would be tempted to steal something, that they all worked so hard to produce and get out there to people.
Finding a discontented worker at Redstone wasn’t easy. She supposed they were there, but she certainly hadn’t come across any of them. In fact, she guessed most of the people here would be as outraged by the thefts as she was, hating the idea of anything jeopardizing their jobs with the company they’d quickly come to love.
And the drivers were Redstone people too, so there was no way they’d be lying about being involved, and they were always there, watching, until the recipient signed the papers that the full shipment had been received.
So how was it happening? What was she missing? There had to be something she wasn’t—
She blinked as sunlight glinted on an unnatural hair color in the distance. Mel. With a small bag in her hand, the girl was crossing the parking lot from the drugstore. Kate considered calling out to her, but it was the girl’s day off and she might not be glad to be reminded she’d have to be back to work tomorrow.
Kate returned to her thoughts as she walked toward her car, shifting her own bag of groceries to her hip as she switched her keys to her right hand. Instinctively she looked up again for Mel.
The girl was looking right at her. And her expression was unmistakable. She looked startled. And…caught. Mel’s head jerked sideways as she broke the eye contact abruptly. Kate watched as the girl got hastily into her old blue sedan, started the engine and exited the parking lot with a squeal of tires on pavement.
She couldn’t have made it more clear she was dodging Kate if she’d shouted it.
And Kate’s heart plummeted to her shoes.
Chapter 9
Rand yawned, then stretched. It had been a long week. He’d been on watch every day, and some nights until dawn streaked the sky. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, only that he hadn’t seen it. He had photos of everyone who came and went from Redstone, though, and had a good idea of the normal activity pattern.
And an even better idea of Kate’s activity pattern.
She hadn’t varied it much. Only occasionally did she leave the building during the day. Twice, including today, she’d left to pick up lunch for half the staff, judging by the bags she’d returned with.
Speaking of food, he thought, he was going to knock off early tonight. His last communication from Redstone had said there was a shipment of the insulin pumps going out day after tomorrow, so he was going to need sleep to stake that out. Besides, Dorothy had said something about chicken and dumplings tonight, and he didn’t want to miss that.
He hadn’t thought so much about what was for dinner in years, and if he didn’t watch it, he was going to end up going home ten pounds heavier than when he arrived, he told himself.
That he didn’t want to think about going home just yet was not something that concerned him. He was, after all, in the middle of a case, so going home was naturally far from his mind. Naturally.
He no sooner walked in the Crawford’s front door—sniffing appreciatively at the aroma that filled the house—than he heard Dorothy’s voice.
“You’re in trouble, young man!”
The spry, gray-haired woman was actually waving a wooden spoon at him, her expression stern. Behind her, in the kitchen, he saw Kate, looking amused but also puzzled.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Dorothy continued in a voice that matched her expression.
Rand held up his hands, palms out, in self-defense. “You’re going to have to tell me, since I have no idea.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Rand Singleton. If you think I can’t read Elwood Turner like a book, you’re mistaken.”
“Oh.” The grocery store. Now he knew.
“Yes, oh.”
“I rented a room,” he said firmly. “That didn’t include you feeding me practically every night and morning, and packing me lunches on top of it.”
“One extra mouth doesn’t add that much,” Dorothy said, but the spoon at least had stopped waving.
“It does when it’s mine,” Rand pointed out, somewhat ruefully. “I eat as much as both of you put together, and you know it.”
Dorothy smiled then. “It does my heart good to see a boy eat hearty.”
“And it does my heart good to know I’m paying my way,” Rand retorted.
“What on earth are you two squabbling about?” Kate was wiping her hands on a dish towel as she came toward them.
“The fact that Elwood wouldn’t let me pay for my weekly groceries today. Said they’d already been paid for. For next week, too.”
Kate gave him a sideways look, her expression a mixture of surprise that irked him, and pleasure that warmed him.
“I’d be spending more than that if I was eating out all the time,” he pointed out. “Besides,” he grinned at Dorothy, “it wouldn’t be nearly as good.”
“Oh, you,” she said, but her cheeks colored prettily.
“Am I forgiven?” From the smile and hug she gave him he guessed he was. On that front, anyway.
“That was very nice,” Kate said after her grandmother retreated to the kitchen to finish her preparations.
“It’s only fair. I’ve ended up eating here a lot, although it was never my intention.”
“She loves to cook,” Kate said.
“And does it well,” Rand said, with a wry smile and a pat to his stomach. “I’m going to take more than memories of this place home with me.”
Kate smiled. The same sweet, generous smile he’d just seen on her grandmother’s face. He doubted his luck would run to getting the hug, too.
What the hell are you thinking?
He answered himself. Like a guy who hasn’t had a hug from a woman he finds attractive in far too long.
There. At least he was being honest, admitting he was attracted to her. Maybe that was the best way, instead of trying to dodge it, just confront it head-on and get past it. Maybe if Sam hadn’t tried so long to deny what she was feeling for Ian, she wouldn’t have gotten in so deep that by the time she quit denying it, it was too late.
Of course, then she wouldn’t be married to Ian, nor be so deliriously happy it made him smile just to see her. And he was totally convinced they were forever, despite the warnings they’d all heard countless times about getting involved on a job. And Ian had had to get over Sam’s subterfuge of posing as his neighbor to hide his real purpose.
And aren’t you doing the same thing to Kate?
The thought, unwelcome on so many levels, made him grimace inwardly. He smothered a sigh as he gathered up plates and silverware to set the table, as he’d gotten in the habit of doing. Life was too confusing sometimes. He loved his work, wouldn’t want to do anything else, but sometimes it complicated what was already complicated enough.
Of course, if it turned out she was guilty, that would end a whole lot of complications.
And cause a whole new batch.
“Someday we’d like to remodel,” her grandmother said. “Make the bedroom we’re in now a little bigger, and add a bath.”
“More like what you had upstairs?” Rand asked as he got up and helped clear the table, as if it was something he did every day. As perhaps he did, Kate thought. He was here more than she was, after all.
Her grandmother nodded, and again Kate tried to quash the pang of guilt and pain the casual discussion was causing her. She should be taking better care of them, like they had her. But every cent she made was earmarked for bills and necessities for all of them, and she had little left for things that were anything less than crucial.
Her grandfather didn’t look too comfortable with the discussion either, and Kate knew it was because he felt responsible; it was his bum knees that had forced them to move downstairs.
“What if you made the bedroom the bath, and turned the garage into the bedroom?” Rand said as he neatly put the dishes in the dishwasher. A housebroken man, how about that, Kate thought. “They connect right there, don’t they?”
“I thought about that,” Gramps said from the table. “I think it would work.”
“Sure it would. Or, you could steal the laundry room for the bathroom, and kick out the back wall to enlarge the bedroom,” Rand said, apparently running with a ton of ideas now.
“Then we wouldn’t have to build a new garage,” her grandfather said.
“It would be expensive either way, though,” her grandmother said.
“We’ll find a way, Gram,” Kate said. She had no idea how, but she would. Somehow.
“What about something else in the meantime?” Rand asked. “Something like one of those stairway power lifts?”
“Those aren’t cheap, either,” Gramps said.
“And I have to say, I don’t mind not going up stairs all the time myself,” Gram said, reaching out to pat the hand of her husband of over fifty years.
“Okay, then start planning,” Rand suggested. “That way, when the time comes, you’ll be ready to go. Besides, it’s fun to dream, even if it never happens.”
Kate kept quiet, torn. She wasn’t sure this was a good thing. She didn’t want them to get their hearts set on a plan and then not be able to do it for a long time. Until she was able to dig out from under, anyway.
“My sister’s studying to be a designer,” Rand said. “I’m sure she could rough something out for you, if you gave her the basics of what you want. I can help you measure, and brainstorm the plan. Then you could at least get an estimate.”
“Really?” Gram perked up at that.
“Sure. Then you’ll know what you’re dealing with. You may decide it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Oh, my,” Gram said, excitement in her voice. “Now I want to go get some of my magazines to look at.”
She hastily put the last of the dishes into the washer, pulled off her apron and headed off to the den.
“Now look what you’ve started, boy,” Gramps said, but he was chuckling when he said it.
“Are you kidding?” Rand said. “It’ll take her a year to decide exactly what she wants. I bought you breathing room.”
Gramps burst out laughing. It was a sound she hadn’t heard from him in a long while, and it made her smile. And she directed the smile at the man who had made it happen. He smiled back, warm and beautiful. Her heart seemed to falter, then jumped to catch up.
Uh-oh.
She turned to finish wiping off the dining table, staring down at the dark oak finish, wondering just how much trouble she was already in, and how she was going to keep from getting into more.
“Damn.”
Rand said it under his breath, aware of the disappointment, anger and regret behind the curse.
Kate was involved. He wasn’t sure just how, yet, but he knew better than to believe it was coincidence that on the night before a shipment of the pumps, she had slipped out of her house at eleven o’clock. She’d never left her house after she’d been in for the night, not since he’d been here. He’d wondered at it, wondered why the woman seemed to have no social life outside her grandparents. Were there just no single men in Summer Harbor, or were they all blind? If he’d been here, he would have been after her like—He broke off his own thought as an unexpected rush of heat flooded him.
In His Sights Page 8
