Lars glanced at Erik. “Any point in saving this?”
“There’s always a point.” Erik’s mouth was a grim line. He pulled out his cell phone again and snapped a couple of pictures of the patty. “Let me see if Ms. Carroll has some sandwich bags.”
Pete sighed, swinging Jack up onto his shoulders again. “I have to say, this changes things. At least for me.”
Lars watched Cal gallop Daisy to the other end of the yard, then turned back to Pete. “How does it change anything?”
“Up until now, I figured you might have just a garden-variety burglar. Not too bright, if he thought your lady friend had anything worth stealing, but nothing special. I thought maybe the two of you were overreacting. But no burglar would go to this much trouble unless she’s hiding a cache of diamonds.”
Lars managed not to snarl. “She’s hiding her son.”
Pete nodded. “Right. I admit—I wasn’t entirely sold on her story at first. Whole thing sounded a little too dramatic. And after a while, you learn domestic problems usually have a lot of angles. But now I’m buying in. We still don’t have any way to stop these people, though, unless they actually make a grab for the baby. Which nobody wants them to do.”
“There’s a comfort,” Lars snapped. “At least you don’t want them to go through with the kidnapping.”
Pete grimaced at him, then began strolling back toward the house. “Give me a break. I told you—I’m buying in. I’m just trying to figure out what the hell we can do now.”
Jack giggled as Pete picked up his pace a little. Lars tried not to be pleased at the drool running down the baby’s chin and pooling in his brother’s hair.
“We need to get her out of here and into town.” Lars rubbed the back of his neck. “That has to happen before anything else.”
“All that does is make them safe for now.” Pete lifted Jack down from his shoulders as he reached the back door, grimacing at his damp palm. “It doesn’t take care of the long-term problem.”
“I’ll settle for now, believe me.”
The door opened and Jess leaned out. “Dinner’s on the table.”
Jack cooed delightedly, reaching for her, and she gathered him into her arms. For a moment she stood in the doorway, rubbing her nose against the baby’s cheek. A willowy Madonna with eyes like jade. Then she looked up again, tucking Jack against her shoulder. Her gaze met Lars’s before she glanced away.
“C’mon, kid,” she murmured. “Let’s go eat.”
Pete stood beside Lars watching them go. After a moment, he sighed. “Okay, let’s settle for now.”
Lydia Moreland didn’t entirely hate the contractor. Not yet, anyway. But she did find his attitude more than a little annoying. She expected daily reports, but no matter how many messages she left on the voice mail number he’d given her, he never contacted her immediately.
That meant she had to bring her special cell phone with her to the office, which not only wasn’t convenient, it wasn’t safe. Preston had been known to walk into her office unannounced, no matter how many times she’d warned him not to.
Sometimes she didn’t know quite what to make of Preston. He was certainly a more satisfactory son than Barrett had been, but sometimes he seemed entirely too…self-contained. Particularly lately.
She didn’t think he’d really disapprove of her efforts to find Barrett’s slut of a wife and retrieve her grandson. After all, he’d been at the funeral. He knew what she was. But sometimes Preston seemed less interested in Moreland affairs than he should be. In spite of all Lydia’s efforts, he didn’t entirely understand the ramifications of letting outsiders into the family.
For that reason alone, Lydia preferred to keep her interactions with the contractor private. Having to explain oneself, even to one’s son, could be quite annoying.
As it happened, the contractor’s call finally came through when she was getting ready for bed. She’d just pulled on the new silk La Perla nightgown she’d bought in Philadelphia when she heard the cell phone.
By now she was beyond waiting out more than two rings. Besides, there was always the chance the contractor would hang up. She clicked the connect button. “What’s happened?”
“What makes you think anything has?”
She pressed her lips together, fighting back her immediate response. If they got into another of these silly games, she’d never find out what she wanted to know.
“I hoped something had,” she snapped. “Perhaps I should have asked what you had to tell me.”
“Yes,” the contractor drawled, “that would have been better.”
Lydia closed her eyes, drumming her fingers on the night table. She was paying for this insolence. “What do you have to tell me?” she muttered.
“Your daughter-in-law has picked up some local allies, although they may not know who she is. I’ve developed some counter-measures. I should be able to make good on our agreement within two weeks.”
Lydia balled her hand into a fist, telling herself not to shout. “You’ve already had considerable time and money to achieve that goal. You’re telling me you’re still not ready to deliver my grandson?”
“Kidnapping is a tricky business, Mrs. Moreland. Even though you have basically given me permission to murder your daughter-in-law in the process.” The contractor’s mechanical voice hummed in her ear.
Her throat tightened dangerously. “How dare you!”
“How dare I what? Say it out loud?” The contractor chuckled. “All right, Mrs. Moreland, here’s your chance. Would you rather I not kidnap your grandson? Do you forbid me to harm your daughter-in-law even in passing?”
Lydia licked her lips, listening to her pulse thunder in her ears. She didn’t think she could manage to say anything, even if she’d wanted to.
“Mrs. Moreland?” The contractor’s voice was brisk. “Still there?”
“I’m here,” she croaked.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Lydia could picture the bastard smiling at her distress. “Good. Let’s have no more pretense, shall we? I’ll call you when I have something to report.”
The click in her ear sounded exactly like a rifle shot.
Chapter Thirteen
Jess found dinner an interesting experience. Up until now, she’d seen the Toleffson brothers only in pairs, where they seemed large but not overwhelming. When all four of them were in the same room,
overwhelming
didn’t begin to describe the feeling.
She tried to study them without being too obvious. They were all well over six feet, but it looked like Erik was the tallest. Pete was maybe the shortest, although in this case
short
was definitely a relative term. Cal and Lars seemed to be about the same size.
All of them had the same broad shoulders and muscular bodies, whether they wore uniforms or denim shirts or, in Lars’s case, a navy blue knit shirt that set off his dark eyes.
That was another thing they all had—eyes the color of strong coffee, or maybe molasses. Dark hair, too, with lengths ranging from Cal’s shagginess to Erik’s almost military clip.
They took their plates to the living room, where they sat on the couch and loveseat or, in Cal’s case, sprawled on the floor.
Or rather three of them did. Erik sampled some of the cold cuts and carrot sticks, then wrapped some fried chicken in a napkin and headed for his cruiser. His brothers nodded goodbye as he walked through the room.
Jess frowned. There was something between the other three and Erik, but she didn’t know them well enough to decipher it. And it certainly wasn’t any of her business.
At her seat at the dining room table, she fed Jack a couple of slices of deli turkey that she’d chopped into bits, along with a few spoonfuls of pureed squash. Jack gave her an enthusiastically orange grin.
After everyone had finished first and second helpings, Docia stood and clapped her hands. “Okay, everybody into the dining room. Time for peach cobbler
à la mode
and discussion straight.”
Jess couldn’t say she was surprised. This hadn’t struck her as a social visit. So now the fun part would start. She lifted Jack out of his chair, wiping his face and hands, and placed him in her lap.
“All right.” Docia stood at the end of the dining room table, her hands on her hips. “Now you’ve been fed. So now you get to start in on the real work of the evening. What are we going to do about this situation?”
“What situation?” Pete raised an eyebrow, but Jess had a feeling he was just jerking Docia’s chain.
So did Docia. “Oh, knock it off. You know very well what. We can’t let Jess deal with this alone. And we can’t let anything happen to either Jess or Jack. So what’s the plan?”
Pete turned to Jess. “The easiest solution is the one we’ve all been suggesting ever since this problem started—move into town. We all have space for you at our houses, and you’d be welcome.”
“Like I said before, you can take my house,” Lars cut in. “Daisy and I can move in with Pete and Janie.”
Jess sighed. “The problem with that is the same one I’ve had all along. I have a job to do here, and I can’t do it in town. Mrs. Carmody isn’t here for me to consult, but when I took over as manager, I agreed to live on the premises. If I’m in Konigsburg, I can’t do that.”
Janie shook her head. “Why do you need to be out here? What do they need you for?”
“Emergencies. If the toilet backs up in the middle of the night, I’m supposed to either unblock it or call a plumber.”
“Have you done that?” Janie looked like she was trying not to grimace.
“Not the toilet, no, but I’ve had to call the cable guys and electricians. And I’ve had to mop up a disaster when some couple mistook the whirlpool for a hot tub and tried to do a few things that the tub wasn’t designed to accommodate.”
Jess shuddered at the memory. The guy had been wearing a towel when she got there and it had definitely not demonstrated his hunk status.
“Maybe you could leave your cell phone number with the guests,” Janie began, and then stopped. “But that wouldn’t work, would it? You still might have to come out here in the middle of the night to take care of the problem. And this Haggedorn person might have your phone number.”
Jess felt a drip of ice down her spine. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of Barrymore/Haggedorn calling her out after midnight.
Lars leaned forward, his gaze catching hers. “What do you want, Jess? How can we help you? What do you need us to do?”
Jess bit her lip. Something in his voice made her throat tighten. She stared back into his deep molasses gaze. “Help me make it safe to be here. Show me what to do. I’m always trying to take care of things after Haggedorn’s done something to us, or tried to do something. Show me how to make it so he can’t even try.”
Pete ran a hand across his jaw. “You could put in an alarm system, but you’d have to get Mrs. Carmody’s okay. They’re not cheap, and I have a feeling she wouldn’t be too excited about paying a lot of money for something like that.”
“Netta Carmody?” Docia shook her head. “Sorry, not a chance. Netta’s got the tightest fists I know of. Besides, getting in touch with her at this time of year would be a bitch. She’s off on her world cruise, right?”
Jess nodded. “Right. To the South Seas and Japan. She told me she wouldn’t be back until January. Which is another reason I can’t quit my job here. It wouldn’t be fair to her.” Of course, if she and Jack took off in the middle of the night for parts unknown, Mrs. Carmody would be out of luck. Jess pushed that thought aside a little guiltily.
Janie sighed. “That’s probably the first time the words ‘fair’ and ‘Netta Carmody’ have ever been associated. But I understand what you’re saying.”
“The main problem, as I see it, is that you’re alone out here,” Cal mused. “I could probably find you a watch dog, but after what happened to Sweetie, you’d need to keep it in the house. And I’m not sure how that would work with Daisy and Jack.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t want another dog.” Jess managed a tight smile. “I would like to take Sweetie back when he recovers, though, if that’s okay.”
She glanced at Daisy as she colored a picture in a corner of the room, paying no attention to the nattering of the adults.
Cal nodded. “Of course, you can have him. Believe me, we’ll be delighted for you to have him. He’s starting to get back on his feet again, and he’ll be eating us out of house and home by the end of the week.”
“How big is this place?” Lars leaned forward in his chair, staring around the living room.
“Around two thousand feet.” Jess shrugged. “Why?”
“No, I mean how many bedrooms?”
“Three. Four if you count the little study off the living room, the room with the bower.”
All the Toleffsons were staring at him now. Jess had a feeling they were holding their collective breath.
Lars nodded. “Okay. Daisy and I can move in. Daisy can share Jack’s room, and I’ll take the spare bedroom. That way you won’t be alone out here. And if you get some emergency call from the guest cabin at night, I can go with you. That should keep you safe for the time being.”
“We’re gonna live here?” Daisy piped. “Can I sleep with Jack?”
Jess blinked. The entire room had become very quiet indeed.
“No, Dais,” Lars said gently. “Jack needs to sleep in his crib. We’ll find another place for you.”
Janie gave Lars a very bright smile. “How about if Daisy stays with us? We’ve got all those bedrooms.”
“No!” Daisy cried. “I wanna stay with Jack. Daddy, you promised!”
Lars grinned. “Actually, I didn’t. But I’d rather you were with us too, pumpkin.”
Daisy grinned back, then picked up another crayon and went back to her picture.
Janie glanced back at Lars, her forehead furrowed. “Do you really think it’s safe? I mean, it might be better if we took both Daisy and Jack.”
“Or Jack could stay with us,” Docia chimed in.
Jess’s chest tightened. “No,” she blurted. She took a breath as they all turned toward her, then touched her cheek to Jack’s silky hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but no, I can’t let Jack go. I just can’t.”
Docia stared down at Jack’s baby smile, her cheeks suddenly pink. “I don’t blame you a bit, sweetheart.”
“Okay, time out, let’s have some coffee. And we need to get some of these dishes taken care of.” Cal stood, heading toward the kitchen with Docia at his heels.
Jess let them. She figured this was the Toleffsons’ party and they could jolly well clean up too.
Pete stepped beside her, smiling down at Jack. “There’s one problem with all of this,” he said.
Jess wondered if he was referring to the sexual tension she already felt whenever she spent more than five minutes alone with Lars. That was going to make it lots of fun to have him around for extended periods of time.
“It takes care of the situation for now,” Pete went on. “But it doesn’t solve the ultimate problem with your in-laws.”
“I guess I could get the protective order you talked about.” Jess shifted Jack so that he wasn’t resting quite so much on one of her knees.
Pete nodded. “You should. It might shake something loose. But the guy who’s already here may not be affected by it.”
“Lorne Barrymore?”
“Barrymore, Haggedorn, whatever his name is. I’d feel a lot better about this if we could find him.”
“I thought Erik did find him.” Lars leaned forward in his chair again. “Or he found where he was staying, anyway.”
“Looks like he’s checked out. Erik stopped by to talk to the desk clerk.”
“Does that mean he wasn’t the one who hurt Sweetie?”
Pete shook his head. “It may mean he knows we’re onto him and he’s staying somewhere else. Like I say, I’d be happier if we knew where he was.”
“So would I.” Jess shivered.
“I guess what I’m saying is, just because Lars moves in, that doesn’t mean Haggedorn moves on. He’s got a job to do.”
Jess took a deep breath. “Well he won’t do it here. Not this time.”
Pete nodded. “Not if we can help it, ma’am.” He turned to Lars. “All the same, watch your back, bro.”
“I will.” Lars frowned. “And that brings up another problem.”
“What?” Cal leaned in the doorway, coffeepot in his hand.
“What about tonight?”
The room grew quiet again. Jess chewed on her lower lip. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Haggedorn took out Sweetie so he could get access to the house. Who’s to say this isn’t the night he planned on breaking in? You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
Jess’s heart thudded so hard against her ribs she was sure everyone in the room could hear it. “I…hadn’t thought about that.”
“What do you suggest, Lars?” Cal set the coffee pot down on the table.
“Daisy?” Lars turned toward his daughter. “I think you should stay with Aunt Janie and Uncle Pete tonight. I need to stay out here with Mrs. Carroll and Jack.”
Predictably, Daisy wanted to stay too. And predictably, she wasn’t delighted when Lars told her she couldn’t. She seemed headed for a major, screaming meltdown until Janie pointed out that she didn’t have her pink pajamas or her bunny blanket and thus wasn’t really ready to stay overnight at Jess’s house.
Lars had no idea why that worked—he was just glad it did.
Bolstered by Janie’s promise to help her pack, Daisy reluctantly let Pete move her car seat over to his Acura. She refused to kiss Lars goodnight, thrusting her lower lip forward like a perch on a bird feeder.
“See you tomorrow, sweetheart,” he murmured, as Janie rolled up her window.
Which left him alone with Jess and Jack.
He’d already decided he wouldn’t be an asshole about this. The way to go was to basically ignore any attraction between them.
Right
. Like that was really going to be possible.
Jess had gone to put Jack to bed, which gave Lars a brief reprieve. If he’d had to look at those dimples for five more minutes, he’d have had to touch her cheek, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked.
Blondes. Why did she have to be blonde? You’d think after Sherice, he’d have developed a permanent aversion to any hair color lighter than, say, squirrel. But then Sherice’s platinum had never been natural, and he had the bills to prove it.
Jess’s dark gold looked more than natural. It looked absolutely right, even when it was slightly spiked, the way it got when she ran her fingers through it.
Lars felt himself hardening, and gritted his teeth.
So not appropriate, you moron. You’re here to protect her from the bogeyman, not become a bogeyman on your own time.
He heard her step in the hall and smoothed his expression into something that might pass for bland as she came into the living room.
For just a moment her gaze caught his before she looked away quickly. “Let me show you the spare bedroom before I do anything else. It’s right across the hall from the bathroom so you can wash up if you want to. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything like a razor right now.” She flushed, biting her lip. “I mean, not that I would have a razor normally, but…”
“That’s okay. I’ll stop by my place to change before I go to the office tomorrow anyway.” Lars started to move into the hall, hoping she’d take the hint.
After a moment, she did. She walked to the end, opening the last door on her right. “In here.”
The bedroom had a bed, a chair, and a battered dresser that looked like it had come from a no-tell motel somewhere. A couple of light-colored blouses hung in the otherwise empty closet.
Right. Well, it wasn’t supposed to be a weekend at the Ritz, after all.
Jess sighed. “Sorry it looks so bleak. I didn’t have any time to fix it up. It just has the furniture that was here when we moved in, like the rest of the house.”
Lars managed to push the corners of his mouth up into a fake-hearty grin. “Don’t worry—I’ve stayed in worse. It looks a little like my dorm room at college before my mom got her hands on it.” After which it had looked like a warehouse for discarded Toleffson furniture. But nobody could say it was bleak anymore.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you get settled.” Jess turned and headed back toward the dining room.
Lars wasn’t sure what he was supposed to settle since he didn’t have anything with him except his wallet, his keys and a pocket knife. He checked the bathroom, which looked a lot more lived in, given the clothes line in the shower that contained Jack’s pajamas.