Fear Familiar Bundle

by Caroline Burnes

  "No." She couldn't help but smile. "Nothing is bothering me. I've had a wonderful day, in fact. And I owe all of it to you." She kissed his cheek before she went to the cupboard for coffee cups. "I think my catering business is really getting off the ground." She started telling him about the Bingington event as she poured coffee for them both.

  "You have talent, and you work very hard," Vincent said as he leaned back in his chair. His dark eyes followed her every move. "My son is accompanying me to New York. I would love for you to come along. You haven't seen Jean-Claude since you were children."

  Sarah swallowed the hot coffee. "Yes, it has been a long time." But not nearly long enough, she thought. She had a vivid memory of a thin little boy with scabs on his knees and a mean streak a mile wide.

  "Jean-Claude has grown up, Sarah. He is a handsome man. Very refined. With good manners." He laughed. "I know that's hard for you to believe. You knew him when he was a little monster. But all boys must be civilized. It was a long, hard, and in Jean-Claude's case, very expensive process."

  Sarah laughed warmly, delighting in the twinkle in Vincent's eyes. Ever since Sarah and Jean-Claude were children, Uncle Vince had insisted that one day they would marry. Sarah had never given the idea more than a horrified thought. Even though Jean-Claude wasn't her blood cousin, she had no desire to even think about him romantically. But lately, Uncle Vince had mentioned it more than once. And now this trip…

  "Jean-Claude has been working in the Schelbet vineyards for three years. He started out with the vines, learning everything from the very bottom. It has been good for him." Vincent reached across the kitchen table and picked up Sarah's hand. "He is very handsome."

  "Like his father?"

  "Ah, you are a flirt." He laughed. "I am glad to see that your heart has not turned into a lump of dough. I worry that you don't go out and have fun. You're only young once, chérie."

  "I meet more eligible men than any other woman in Washington," Sarah declared. "And if a man struck my fancy, I'd do something about it." Daniel Dubonet's face popped into her mind. He was the most attractive man she'd met in a long, long time. And he constantly made her remind herself of her desire to stay clear of men and relationships. "You and I both know my career comes first," she added, evading her own feelings.

  "Think about New York."

  "I can't." She shook her head. "I would go if I could, but I do have obligations. Maybe next time, but you have to give me a little more notice."

  "Agreed," he said, putting his cup in the saucer. "Now, I must be off, and you need to finish up your work so you can relax."

  "As soon as I finish my work, I'm going to take a long, relaxing walk, rent a movie and climb into bed," she promised him as she stood to give him a hug. "Thanks for everything you've done for me. And Mom."

  "Thanks aren't necessary." He kissed her cheek.

  Sarah walked him to the front door. She wanted to put the Closed sign up and make sure the locks were in place before she went upstairs to bed. She also wanted to check her messages on the answering machine. Maybe Daniel had called. He said he'd have the test results, and the day was drawing to a close.

  She was slipping the latch into place when she remembered the handsome black cat. She hadn't heard a peep out of him since she'd returned.

  "Kitty, kitty," she called up the stairs. Disappointment touched her heart. He was gone. He'd left as strangely as he'd arrived. With a heavy step she went up the stairs and searched her living quarters. Familiar was gone. Sarah consoled herself with the thought that such a well-kept cat belonged to someone and that he'd simply gone back to his home. Cats were notorious for their wanderlust.

  But just to be on the safe side, she decided to check the street. If he'd gotten out of the building while she was hauling food in and out, he might be lurking around somewhere.

  "Kitty, kitty," she called as she stepped into the street. "Here, kitty, kitty." She walked halfway down the block, noticing that all of the chairs in the beauty salon were filled with women holding magazines. On the way back to her door, she saw the car. It was dark navy or black. In the late afternoon shadows cast by the taller buildings on her street, she couldn't be certain. A man sat at the wheel, his face turned away from her. Nothing unusual— except that she could have sworn the same car had been there the day before. And possibly the day before that.

  She stared at the man, who immediately lifted a newspaper, blocking her view of his face. He was too far away for her to be able to get a really good look, anyway. But why was he sitting in the car reading the newspaper?

  "Maybe he's waiting for someone in the hair salon." She spoke aloud, trying to rationalize the situation. It wasn't impossible that it was some husband waiting for his wife. The Proud Peacock Salon was a popular place with a large clientele of middle-aged and older women. Often they were driven to their hair appointments by their husbands.

  But something about the car bothered her. As soon as she got inside her door, she put the Closed sign in the window and drew the blinds for good measure. That was something she rarely did because she liked for people walking along the streets to look into her shop and see the menus and displays. One never knew where the next order would come from.

  Just as she started for the stairs, she heard a sharp knock on her door.

  "Sorry, I just closed." She needed business, but she needed sleep more.

  "Ms. Covington, please open the door."

  She'd come to recognize the difference between a request and an order. This was an order.

  "I'm sorry, I'm closed." Every sensor in her brain was warning of trouble.

  "Ms. Covington, I'm a friend of Daniel Dubonet's. I'm afraid there's been some trouble."

  Sarah walked back to the door and peeked through the blind. The man standing at her door was a carbon copy of the typical agent. Dark suit, white shirt, conservative tie. "Let me see your identification."

  He held the gold badge up to the glass. Agent Glen Henderson, FBI.

  "Okay." She opened the door, but just wide enough so that she could speak with him. This was exactly what she deserved for involving Daniel in her problems. Now she had agents all over the place. Still, the thought that Daniel was in trouble made her heart race. The depth of her concern frightened her. Her feelings for Daniel weren't completely clear— and she fought them every inch of the way. But what if he had gotten injured because of her? What if he'd…? No, he was perfectly fine. She'd seen him not more than six hours before, and he was his normal, tall-in-the-saddle, FBI self.

  The man glanced up and down the street. "This is important. May I step inside for a moment?"

  Reluctantly, Sarah opened the door and he stepped inside. He closed it behind him.

  "Have you seen Agent Dubonet this afternoon?"

  "He was at the Bingingtons'."

  "When was the last time you saw him?"

  Sarah thought. He'd come back to the kitchen at about eleven o'clock. She'd spoken with him briefly about the guest list, checking to make sure they both expected the same people. And that had been it.

  She told the agent, watching the slight frown that drew his forehead together.

  "After the luncheon, you didn't speak with him?"

  "No. It was odd, too. I expected to see him. He just disappeared." Now she felt a twinge of real concern. "Nothing has happened, has it?"

  "We're not certain. He didn't complete his assignment. In fact, the valet working with him said he just disappeared right before lunch. The young man went to the kitchen for a break, and when he returned to his post at the portico, Dubonet was gone."

  Sarah picked up a strand of hair that had fallen from her twist. She tugged it gently without even being aware of what she was doing. "Daniel doesn't strike me as the kind of person who disappears in the middle of a job."

  Agent Henderson sighed. "Daniel and I went through training together. He isn't the kind of person who walks out in the middle of something."

  She saw the genuine worry in the a
gent's face. "Where could he have gone?"

  "Nowhere, voluntarily."

  "You think he was abducted?"

  Agent Henderson tightened his lips. "I wouldn't be surprised. Mind if I use your phone?"

  Sarah showed him to the phone on her desk, and then retreated into the kitchen to give him privacy. As she cleaned up the coffee cups from Uncle Vince's visit, she couldn't help the growing worry she felt. When the agent tapped lightly at the kitchen door, Sarah turned anxious blue eyes on him.

  "Any word?"

  He shook his head. "Nothing at the agency. I have some other locations to check." His frown deepened considerably.

  "What can I do?"

  "Nothing, for the moment." He started to speak, then hesitated.

  "What is it?" Sarah could see that something was troubling him.

  "If you hear anything from Daniel, would you call me immediately?" He handed her a card with only a number written on it. "This is my private line. There's a machine to answer the call if I'm not there. Daniel could be in serious trouble with the agency. Unless he has a very good excuse for leaving his post today…well, it could be the end of his career, especially since he got that harassment complaint."

  Sarah tugged her hair more violently. What had Uncle Vince said?

  "Daniel and I are old friends. Good friends. I'll do what I can to protect him, and I'm certain that whatever happened, he has a good excuse. Just don't call anyone but me. Okay?"

  The guilt Sarah felt almost made her sick. She hadn't intended to cause that much trouble for the agent. "Of course." She took the card in fingers that were not completely steady.

  "Remember, call me before you do anything." Agent Henderson gave her a tight smile. "Daniel and I have been in some bad spots. Don't worry."

  As she saw him out the front door, she glanced across the street. The dark car was gone. She shook her head as she turned the dead bolt into place. Whatever had happened to Daniel, it wasn't her fault. She had to believe that or she'd spend the rest of her life like her mother, terrified of any decision, of any action, of any desire to live her life. Daniel was a grown man. Whatever he'd done, he was responsible, not her.

  From such a perfect beginning, the day had taken a definite downhill slide. First the cat was missing, and now Daniel.

  She was halfway up the stairs when the telephone began to ring. Increasing her pace, she ran up the stairs and picked up the extension in her bedroom before the answering machine was activated.

  "Sarah?"

  She felt a rush of fear at the familiar voice that sounded so distant and faded. "Yes."

  "This is Daniel Dubonet. I need your help."

  "Where are you, Daniel? Everyone is looking for you— "

  "Don't tell anyone about this call. Can you meet me in Falls Church?"

  "Virginia?" Sarah couldn't believe it.

  "Right. Just off the interstate on Compton Road. At the Waffle House."

  "You want me to meet you at a Waffle House in Virginia?" Sarah wanted to pinch herself. Surely she was dreaming.

  "Listen to me. Something happened at the Bingingtons'."

  "You'd better call in. An Agent Glen Henderson was here not ten minutes ago looking for you. He sort of said that you were in serious trouble."

  There was a long silence. "Glen Henderson?"

  "Right. He said he went through training with you."

  "Did he show you a badge?"

  "Just like yours. Why?" A creepy feeling was beginning in the pit of her stomach.

  "I didn't train with any Agent Henderson."

  "Why would— ?"

  "Sarah, can you pick me up? I don't have any identification or money. I'm stuck out here in a tuxedo. I had to borrow a quarter from one of the waitresses here to use the phone. I'm afraid if I don't order something they're going to throw me out, or worse, call the authorities on me."

  "Okay, I'll come get you. What happened, though?"

  "I promise, I'll tell you everything as soon as I see you."

  An odd note in his voice made her pulse quicken. "Are you okay? You sound…funny."

  "I have a terrible headache, but other than that, I'm fine. Just hurry."

  "I'm on my way." She replaced the receiver and picked up her keys off the counter. She'd been exhausted, but now she was pumped full of adrenaline. She checked the clock and noted that it was nearly five. It would take an hour or better in rush-hour traffic to get to Falls Church. Sighing, she picked up her purse and hurried out the back door to her car.

  Darkness had fallen over the city in the short time she'd been on the phone. As she stepped into the alley, she drew herself up short. A big man hung above her on the telephone pole.

  "Sorry to startle you, ma'am. We had some trouble reported on the line and wanted to get it repaired."

  Sarah took a deep breath. The man had scared the fool out of her. She glanced around, but saw no truck.

  "What kind of trouble?"

  "That beauty shop. Static, broken connections. Have you had any difficulties?"

  "No." She couldn't distinguish his features. "Isn't it a little late to be climbing around on poles?"

  He laughed. "Yes, ma'am, it is, but it's my shift, and we try to keep repair crews going twenty-four hours a day. In a city like this, communication is more important than water." He smiled. "Don't worry, we'll take care of whatever's wrong."

  Chapter Five

  Sarah could smell the bacon cooking in the Waffle House as she got out of her car. Lights glowed brightly through the plate-glass windows and inside waitresses in orange uniforms and white aprons filled coffee cups as they took care of their customers. Sarah, who'd spent summers waiting tables, knew exactly how hard and tiring the job could be.

  She spotted Daniel instantly even though he was doing his best to disappear into a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. Contrasted with the truck drivers and tourists who frequented the all-night restaurant, Daniel and his tuxedo were a bit of a sore thumb.

  Pushing the glass door open, she walked over to his table. She felt all the eyes in the restaurant directed at her, but her only concern was for Daniel. His face was pale, and an enormous goose egg distorted one side of his head.

  "What happened?"

  "I know, it's a costume party, right?" A burly guy at the counter stared at her.

  Sarah looked down at herself, realizing too late that she was still in her food-smeared chef's uniform. When she looked back at Daniel, she was relieved to see his grin.

  "If you'll pay for my coffee, we can leave," he said.

  "My pleasure." Sarah couldn't help teasing him. Even though he looked terrible, she was relieved that he was okay. Too relieved. She was on the verge of serious emotional trouble, but she didn't know how to stop it now. Her feelings for Daniel had grown against her wishes. "On the condition that as soon as we get to the car, you tell me what happened."

  "It's a deal." He stood and took the money Sarah offered him to the counter.

  "Where's the party?" the burly guy asked, grinning.

  "Not far," Daniel answered.

  "Looks like you got started early." The man laughed. "Better watch out. They'll put you in jail for drinking and driving, these days."

  "We'll be careful," Sarah assured him. She waited at the door while Daniel paid up. Once in the parking lot, she saw he was weaker than she'd thought. His step was slightly woozy, as if he had been drinking.

  "Maybe we should stop at a hospital and get your head checked," she said carefully.

  "No. I need a telephone."

  She pointed to the pay phone across the parking lot.

  "No, let's get back to D.C. I need to check in with the agency and let them know what happened. I want you to tell me about this Henderson guy."

  Sarah started the car and eased into the flow of traffic. She recounted the meeting with Henderson, word for word as closely as she could remember. Daniel did not interrupt her until she was finished.

  "What did he look like?"


  "Handsome, very athletic and trim. Neatly dressed and groomed. A lot like you," she said.

  "Meaning, all agents look alike?"

  She could hear the tiniest edge of sarcasm in his voice. "Same clothes, same shoes, same manner. But he was blond." She grinned.

  "Well, I don't know a blond Agent Henderson and I never went through training with anyone like him."

  "Then who was he?"

  "I wish I knew the answer to that question."

  A long stream of oncoming headlights took all of Sarah's concentration, and she waited for Daniel to continue. "Did anything happen at the Bingingtons'?" he finally asked.

  "Everything went like clockwork. No troubles at all. I didn't know you were gone until that Henderson fellow came by. What did happen to you, Daniel?"

  "Someone knocked me out and put me in Governor Peebles's trunk. I came to and knew we were on the road. When the governor pulled into that service station for gas, I clipped the lock from the inside and got out and slipped over to the Waffle House."

  "Didn't you tell him?"

  He gave her a look. "He might have been involved. I wanted to get away."

  "And why did you call me?" This was something that had troubled her all during the drive to Falls Church. Why hadn't he called someone from the agency to help him?

  "This is going to sound very strange." He looked out the window and then back at her. "This entire assignment has been…unusual. The FBI was invited to join the investigation by the Secret Service. That's unusual. Then I get the job— to investigate a chef." He shook his head. "It just didn't ring true."

  "And…?" she prompted.

  "I called you because I didn't want to call anyone at the agency. I may have been set up."

  "I could have set you up," she observed.

  "That's true. But if that was the case, you never would have shown up." He looked at her in the dim lighting of the car's dashboard. "Someone else would have, and I probably wouldn't be alive."

  Sarah tightened her grip on the wheel. "What's going on here?"

  "I don't know, Sarah, but I promise you one thing, I'm going to find out." He straightened his shoulders. "Would you mind taking me to my apartment? I want to pick up a few things." His hand traced his left side where his weapon should have been.