“When did you put a camera in the van?”
“Last night. It’s one of Bergstrom’s toys. I fastened it on top of that metal shelving and rigged it so it’s focused through the right side of the windshield.”
She resisted the urge to turn around and see for herself. Instead, she leaned against the door, shifting her legs so that Sam dropped his hand. “That’s why you’re driving so slowly, isn’t it? You’re trying to get video of the grounds.”
“That’s right.”
Guards with guns. A camera in her catering van. Of course. She should have expected it. This was all part of what he did for a living. Until now, her attention had been centered on convincing everyone they were engaged. But as Sam had already reminded her, this was the whole point of the charade.
The Fitzpatrick estate oozed wealth. The lane took them past a small pond, a hedge of yew bushes and a lawn that was as smoothly manicured as a putting green. A series of stone-paved terraces led up the side of a low hill where a trio of gardeners bent over orderly beds of colorful flowers. Carved stone benches were placed around a circular fountain where water shimmered from the top of a spouting dolphin.
The house loomed in front of them, its windows appearing to waver in the afternoon heat. Three stories high, with a shorter wing extending from one side, it was built of mellowed red brick and covered with glossy green ivy. It wasn’t huge or ostentatious, yet it emanated an impression of money and power. Dirty money and criminal power.
A dark-suited man with a headset and one of those holster-shaped bulges under his jacket directed Sam to drive around the side of the house. “All you need to do is act natural,” Sam said, easing the van to a stop behind a low, black limousine. “Remember, it’s business as usual for you.”
Audra wiped her palms on her skirt again. “Okay.”
He shut off the engine and swiveled around to pick up the loose-leaf binders. “I’m hoping to scout out the layout of the house while we’re here, but it’s not worth jeopardizing the job for it. For now, we’ll play it by ear.”
“I hate that expression.”
He lifted an eyebrow as he handed her one of the binders. “There’s no need to be nervous.”
“Oh, of course not.” She crossed her arms over the binder, holding it to her chest like a shield.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Audra,” he said, his voice low. “That’s why I want to keep your involvement to an absolute minimum. You’ve done your part, you got me in. That’s all you needed to do.”
Another dark-suited man, this one even bigger than the others they’d encountered so far, led them through the rear entrance of the house. They turned left and were ushered down a cool, dim mahogany-paneled hallway to a small sitting room that overlooked the front garden. Audra remained silent while they waited, using the time to review the menus she had typed up that morning.
Ten minutes later, the patio door that led to the garden opened and a petite, red-haired woman stepped in. “I’m sorry,” she said, brushing at the dirt that streaked the front of her white shorts. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.”
Audra glanced up from her notes in surprise. She’d noticed the woman as they’d driven past the garden, and she’d assumed she was one of the gardeners. “Miss Fitzpatrick?” she asked.
“Please, call me Marion.” She pulled off her gardening gloves and crossed the room, holding out her hand. “Thanks for coming. You must be Audra. Your mother said you’d be drawing up the menus.” She shook hands, her gaze going to Sam.
Audra spoke up quickly. “This is Sam Tucker, my fiancé. He’s helping me.”
Marion barely paid attention to her explanation of Sam’s presence. Instead, she was much more interested in the plans Audra had worked out. Within minutes, they were seated around a low, marble-topped table, deep in a discussion of the quantity of the appetizers and the color scheme of the tablecloths.
Gradually, Audra began to relax. She hadn’t known what a criminal’s daughter would be like, but it certainly hadn’t been this pleasant, self-composed woman. Marion behaved exactly like any other young bride-to-be, excited, a little anxious over details and bubbling with enthusiasm over the approaching wedding.
Bit by bit, the tentative plans that Audra and her mother had worked out were refined and expanded. Scribbling notes furiously, she recorded every new detail while she kept a running total in her head of the supplies they would need. From the sound of things so far, this was going to be the largest wedding the company had done. Not only would they be providing a lavish dinner for over three hundred guests, they would be responsible for the bar and the refreshments during the dancing afterward.
Even without the reward Audra hoped to get out of this, her share of what McPherson Catering was going to make in profit was going to be more money than what she’d normally make in a month.
But Larry Fitzpatrick was a criminal, so that meant the money he would use to pay McPherson Catering would come from the profits from crime. And if Sam and his colleagues succeeded in arresting Fitzpatrick, what would that do to Marion? Did she know what her father was? Did she know where the money to pay for her lavish wedding was coming from?
Probably not. Sam had said that Fitzpatrick kept his daughter and his personal life completely removed from his money-laundering business. Marion probably took their wealth for granted. And although the estate was fortified, so were plenty of other rich people’s places. She likely never questioned why they had such tight security—after all, crime was so widespread these days.
“I’d like to have the whole thing in the garden,” Marion said, gesturing toward the patio window. “It’s always been my favorite place.”
“I can see that,” Audra said. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’ve been trying to talk her out of it.”
At the new voice, Audra twisted to look over her shoulder. A plump, middle-aged man moved into the room, a pleasant smile on his face. He crossed to Marion and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “How are you managing?”
“Fine, Daddy.” She smiled up at him. “I thought you had an appointment.”
“I do. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.”
Marion turned back to Audra and Sam. “Have you met my father yet?”
Audra’s automatic greeting died in her throat. Her father? This was Larry Fitzpatrick, the criminal mastermind? There had to be some mistake. With his red hair and genial expression, he looked more like an overgrown elf.
Sam covered her lack of response, smoothly introducing both of them before steering the conversation back to business.
“My father’s trying to talk me out of an outdoor ceremony,” Marion said. “He’s concerned about the weather.”
“I can understand that, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Sam put in, shuffling some binders for Audra in an attempt to look useful. “But this heat wave is bound to break soon. And we could provide tents and awnings, just in case of rain.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Marion exclaimed.
Fitzpatrick didn’t appear to agree. For an instant his genial expression wavered, and Audra caught a glimpse of cold calculation behind his gaze. But then he patted his daughter’s hand and moved to the door. “It could work. Keep everything on the terraces on the east side of the house.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Sam waited until Fitzpatrick’s footsteps had faded down the hall before he rose to his feet. “If you show us the exact place you had in mind, Marion, I can estimate the square footage of the tents you’ll need.”
“All right. Have we covered everything about the menus for now?” she asked Audra.
“Oh, yes. If anything else comes up, I’ll call you.”
“Terrific,” Marion said, leading them to the patio.
The long, black limousine that had been parked around the back of the house drove slowly down the lane toward the gates. Sam watched it until it was out of sight. “After we look at the garden, we’d better tour the
kitchen, too,” he said. “We’ll need to know what kind of facilities you have on site so we can determine a work plan.”
Audra nodded. “With the number of guests you’re expecting, we’re going to need an area close to the garden where we can work.”
“And we’ll want to work as unobtrusively as possible,” Sam added. “So it would help if you showed us which areas of the house we should avoid.”
“That’s easy to do,” Marion said, leading them to the patio. “My father keeps his offices in the wing on the other side of the garage. That area of the house is always kept private, but otherwise, my guests will have the run of the place.”
Over the next half hour, they accompanied Marion on her impromptu tour of her father’s estate. Although Sam kept his posture relaxed and his questions casual, Audra was aware of his intense scrutiny of everything they saw.
She also became aware of her own growing sympathy for Marion Fitzpatrick Despite what her father was, she seemed to be a genuinely nice person. For her sake, Audra hoped the wedding went off without a hitch. And that Marion was far enough away and had established a life of her own before her father was brought to justice.
Their tour ended in the kitchen. It was an immense, starkly lit room with commercial-size stainless steel appliances and a forest of copper cookware hanging from hooks. It appeared to be capable of feeding an army, and considering the size of the guards, that wasn’t too far off. Esther and Christopher would drool when they saw this equipment, Audra thought.
Marion glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I have to run. I’m meeting my fiancé in less than an hour and I really have to change out of my gardening clothes.”
“I appreciate the time you’ve taken to show us around,” Audra said, extending her hand. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”
“Thanks for coming. I’ll show you out.”
“Please, don’t bother,” Sam said, placing his hand at the small of Audra’s back. “After the tour you gave us, we know our way.”
They turned toward the rear entrance as Marion said goodbye and moved quickly down the hall. The minute she was out of sight around the corner, Sam swiveled and started walking in the opposite direction.
Audra hesitated. “That’s not the way out.”
“I know. Stay put. If anyone comes, say you’re counting pots or something.”
Her eyes widened. Of course. He was heading straight for the wing of the house where Marion had told them Fitzpatrick kept his office. She hurried after him. “You said you just wanted to scout the layout,” she whispered. “You said that it wasn’t worth jeopardizing—”
“I said I’d play it by ear. This is too good an opportunity to miss. The door’s open.”
He was right. The wide mahogany-paneled door at the end of the hall was ajar. She grabbed his arm. “What if someone sees you?”
“Fitzpatrick’s gone, but the more fuss you make, the more chance there is of attracting attention.” He pulled away from her and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Go back to the kitchen and wait.”
“No.”
“Audra...”
“I’m not standing around waiting for one of those goons with the lumps to find me. I’m sticking with you.”
“I don’t have time to argue,” he muttered. With a quick check of the hall in both directions, he slipped through the open door.
Audra followed. They were in another hall, but the paneling and light fixtures looked older than those in the rest of the house. She chewed her lip nervously as Sam tried the knob of the first door to his left.
“That’s probably his office,” he commented when the door didn’t budge. He checked the door to his right. It opened easily to a small parlor, with old-fashioned velvet drapes and a brocade-upholstered sofa with two matching wing chairs. Sam gave it a quick perusal from the threshold, then pulled the door shut and moved farther down the hall.
The last room had a set of double doors. Sam opened one and paused to glance over his shoulder before he stepped inside. Audra followed on his heels.
A sudden movement on the opposite wall made her catch her breath, but then she realized it was only their reflections in a mirror. She exhaled shakily and looked around. The room was dominated by a glass-topped table that was at least twenty feet long. High-backed chairs upholstered in black leather lined both sides. Another long mirror stretched across the wall beside them, creating an illusion of multiple rooms.
“Bingo,” Sam breathed, turning in a slow circle.
“What?”
“This has to be the conference room.” He gestured at the table. “Glass top so no one can hide anything. Mirrors on both walls so no one’s taken unawares. I imagine Fitzpatrick uses the chair in front of the window,” he continued, walking farther into the room. “With the light at his back he’d have an advantage.”
Audra clutched her notebook to her chest. These chairs were for Fitzpatrick’s fellow criminals. The “guests” that Sam wanted to observe at the wedding. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Checking where this window is.” Heavy floor-to-ceiling drapes blocked the sunshine. Sam carefully folded one back to look outside. “This is the opposite side of the house from the terrace. That garage shields it from the driveway so it would be completely private.”
“Sam, we should hurry. Someone might come.”
“That’s always a possibility.”
“But if we’re caught here...”
“We’ll think of some excuse,” he said, letting the drape fall back into place. He moved to the other wall, pausing to look under the table. “He’s made this room as secure as it gets,” he muttered. “No way anyone can eavesdrop.”
She started nervously as he straightened up and a series of his reflections joined hers. “I think we should leave now.”
He ignored her, continuing his slow, thorough study of the room as he made a circuit around the table. He reached the end of the mirror and stopped to peer at the base of the wall. “Vents,” he muttered, running his fingertips along the edge of a metal grate. “I wonder where the ducting goes.”
“It looks kind of narrow for you, Sam.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Not to crawl through, Audra. Sound carries through ducting.”
“What about the room beside this one?”
“That’s possible. I’ll check the position—” He broke off, glancing toward the door.
Audra looked behind her. She hadn’t closed the door completely when she’d followed Sam into the room. She swallowed hard. Was it her imagination, or had she heard a footstep?
With his finger against his lips, Sam cautioned her to silence.
A second later, she caught a trace of movement in the mirror. Someone was moving in the hall outside the room.
Oh, God. With the glass table and all these mirrors, there was no place to hide. No excuse to offer for being here. They could say they’d lost their way, that it was only an innocent mistake, but even if anyone swallowed that, it wouldn’t explain why they were lingering in this deserted room after they discovered they were lost. She’d read enough detective novels and seen enough TV cop shows to know that trespassers weren’t treated gently by criminal masterminds—
Sam moved quickly. He leapt to Audra’s side and tossed her notebook to the floor, then clamped his hands at her hips and lifted her up. She barely had time to draw a breath before he whirled around and sat her on the edge of the table. Without a word he yanked up her skirt, unzipped his pants and came down on top of her.
For a split second shock kept her mind from functioning. Then her brain clicked into gear and she understood what Sam was doing.
We’ll think of some excuse.
It shouldn’t have surprised her. After all, this was Sam. He wasn’t a man who let modesty or propriety get in his way. And he sure hadn’t hesitated the last two times he’d landed on top of her.
Kicking off her sandals, she wrapped her legs around his waist
. Another shock shuddered through her at the intimate position. Her cotton underwear didn’t provide much of a barrier...and...oh, Lord, she could feel every ounce of him.
But it was all an act, a role to play. She wasn’t going to confuse it with the real thing. No, it meant nothing. To either of them.
The door banged against the wall.
Audra moaned loudly and hooked her ankles together. “Yes,” she gasped. “Oh. please.”
Sam flattened his palms on the tabletop beside her shoulders and rotated his hips. “Like this?”
The glass was hard and smooth beneath her. The mirror rippled with repeating images of the two of them straining together. She arched her back and tossed her head. “Yes, yes!”
He ground his pelvis against her. “You’re so hot and tight. You make me crazy.”
From the corner of her eye she saw a large figure pause in the doorway. It was the dark-suited man who had guided them to their meeting with Marion. He crossed his arms and simply stood there. Watching.
Sam slipped his hands under her buttocks to lift her more firmly against him. His movement also served to drape the folds of her skirt so that the fabric concealed exactly what they were doing...or not doing. “Oh. baby. Oh, yeah,” he murmured, suddenly stiffening.
She writhed and moaned in what she hoped was a good imitation of a woman in the throes of ecstasy. “Ahh,” she sighed, finally going limp.
Sam collapsed on top of her, bringing his lips against her ear. “Thanks,” he breathed. “I think he bought it.”
Heart pounding, Audra glanced back at the mirror. She barely recognized the dishevelled woman who lay on the table. Her hair had fanned out around her shoulders, her skirt was crumpled around her waist and Sam’s lean hips were wedged between her naked thighs. She looked shameless...wanton...and sexy.
The jolt of sensation that tingled through her had to be from anxiety. Considering the circumstances, it would be absolutely unthinkable if it were from anything else. They were in the home of a criminal, at the mercy of a hulk with a gun. They were risking Sam’s undercover job, her family’s catering contract, maybe even their lives...
Engaging Sam Page 10
