Blue Clouds (39 page)

Right at this moment, watching her cheerfully tease Chad into taking his medicine, Seth couldn't decide which mistake was the one he shouldn't have made.

Heaven only knew, he still wanted her. He wanted her so much he ached with it. But if life had taught him nothing else, it had taught him that the aches of lust were easily assuaged and had never killed anyone yet. He just wasn't certain this ache was entirely lust. Pippa was a new experience for him.

Discovering he liked being fussed over and teased did not pacify Seth's grumpy mood. He certainly didn't need to pay someone to annoy him. He had an entire household like that already. He would've called Mac to see if she had a return date scheduled yet, but Dirk was still checking on her.

It didn't matter. Chad needed Pippa. He couldn't let her go.

She would drive him insane if she stayed here and he had to keep his hands off her.

He didn't have time to waste worrying over it. He'd finished the damned book. He deserved a little celebration. He didn't dare let anyone but his editor see the manuscript the way it stood now. If he'd made a fool of himself, he would limit the number of people who knew. He could always change it back to the original. But dammit, he
liked
the way the thing had turned out. He just wanted to know if his mind had turned to mush or if anyone else thought it was as powerful as he did.

“I'm going into L.A.,” he announced as he sauntered into the room.

Pippa's smile froze on her face, but at least she didn't frown.

“Is there a time I can tell people you'll return?” she asked with the brisk efficiency of a proper administrative assistant.

Seth nodded approvingly. “I have a meeting with my lawyer and dinner plans. I may stay overnight. Hold all my calls until I get back to you.”

Her eyes widened perceptibly, and Seth's stomach clenched with the impact. She had such damned long lashes, like velvet fringes. But he didn't suffer from the impact of those lashes. He suffered from the impact of the empathy between them, the brain waves shooting back and forth, the questions she didn't ask, the disappointment she didn't voice.

Natalie would have shouted and cursed. His mother would have resorted to shrill accusations and tears. Neither woman would have cared enough for his feelings to keep her mouth shut. Pippa did. Or she was being extremely efficient this morning and dismissing him as if he were one of the damned doctors she used to manipulate.

Efficient assistants would not look at him as if he were a major disappointment.

“What about the book?” she asked calmly. “What shall I tell your editor?”

“It's done.” Seth knew he sounded curt, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He deserved a night in L.A. And she'd made it plain that she didn't want to have anything to do with him and his
overprotective
nature. Heaven forbid that he should be classed with that Neanderthal ex-fiancé of hers. “I e-mailed it this morning.”

The velvet fringe blinked, shuttered closed, and turned away. “I'm glad you're done. Now you can relax a little.”

Damn, now he felt guilty as sin. She'd worked as hard as he had these last weeks. She'd walked through hell with him, never wavering once. And he was leaving her in this house full of maniacs.

Well, that was what he paid her for. He'd have to keep remembering that. No strings, they'd said. No commitments. Besides, she was safer here behind locked gates until they caught the crazy cop. He'd see Dirk in L.A. Something had to be done to put the creep behind bars.

“Have you read the report on the town meeting? Meg says Taylor Morgan is telling everyone your lawyer has it all wrong.” Pippa stood up and eased toward the door now that Chad was peacefully eating his breakfast, unconcerned by their adult conversation.

Seth followed her, lowering his voice so as not to disturb his son. “I'll sue Taylor Morgan's pants off if he tries to go through with the purchase of that company. You can tell the town gossips that. Beyond that, it's none of their business.”

“Of course.” She nodded her head, bouncing her hair across her cheeks and not looking at him as she headed for the stairs.

“Pippa.” He hated the strained sound of his voice as he spoke her name. He mastered flat and cold before she turned around. “I know what I'm doing. Have a little confidence in me.”

She looked at him with an open curiosity and a wariness that pierced the impervious armor around his heart. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. Seth clenched his fingers to keep from touching her cheek. He walked on uncertain ground here. He knew he was sinking deeper, and he didn't know yet whether to struggle against the treacherous quicksand or wait patiently and pray help would arrive before he sank.

“There are good people out there,” she said softly. “Taylor Morgan isn't one of them, but he isn't the whole town. Remember Mikey and the kids before you decide anything. Kids don't deserve the rap for what their parents do.”

She hit him square on with that one, and he narrowed his eyes. “Who have you been talking to?”

“Little birdies.” She smiled sweetly, then scampered down the rest of the stairs.

Seth watched her dart into the office below. If there were any little
birdies
around here, it was his twitty assistant. She practically flitted from room to room. And like a bird, she brightened every corner.

She would have him writing poetry instead of horror if she kept it up. With bad mixed metaphors.

Growling just to remind himself that he could, Seth stalked down the rest of the stairs and out to the Jag waiting for him in the drive. He'd blow a few cobwebs loose before he reached the city.

***

“Pippa? Is that you? Meg told me I could reach you here.”

The voice from the past jolted Pippa out of her fugue. She stared at the computer screen and tried to remember what she'd been doing before the phone rang. It didn't matter. She smiled joyously at Charlene's voice. “Charley! How you doing? It's good to hear a familiar accent.”

The voice on the other end of the line laughed. “Don't drawl out there, do they? When you comin' home, honey?”

Pippa wrinkled her nose. “Don't know if I am, Charley. I kinda like this place. And I keep hoping Billy will get the hint and go back there and leave me alone. He can't live on nothing for long.”

“He's out there?” Charlene asked, scandalized. “I'm sorry, honey. I swear I didn't tell anyone anything, but he was over at Mr. Postman when I took that box of your mail over. Do you think he could have got a look at it somehow? He could have flirted with one of those bubble-headed teenagers, or told them he was acting under the authority of the law or some such. They'll believe most anything.”

“Box of mail? You sent me a box of mail?” Pippa held her breath as she waited for the answer.

“Didn't you get it? I sent it weeks ago. I declare, UPS is getting as bad as the post office. I'll have them trace it. It was mostly bank statements and bills, but you had one of those envelopes saying you won a million dollars. I thought about keeping it for myself, but who knows, maybe you really did win. You deserve it more than most.”

Pippa didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She shook her head, answered with whatever fell off her tongue, and hung up as soon as she could.

Billy hadn't sent the mail bomb. Someone else had.

She hit the intercom and called Doug.

He lumbered in and glared at her. “You gettin' to be worse than the Man, girl. What you want?”

“You're just peeved because Seth didn't take you into L.A. with him,” Pippa reproved him.

“A bodyguard guards bodies,” he grumbled, flopping down in the easy chair and sprawling his long legs across the floor. “He thinks he's immortal.”

“I'd wager he has no such foolish notion. Sir Galahad thinks he's protecting us. I just had a call from home.” Pippa sat back, replaying the conversation in her head, trying to work out all the angles. “Billy didn't send that package from Kentucky. A friend of mine did. Billy probably saw the address on it and flew out here as soon as he could. I don't think he had anything to do with the mail bomb.”

Doug's eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at his king-sized shoes. “That means one of them packages for Seth blew. I shoulda opened them all. To hell with his playing at Christmas. It's my job and I fu—” He changed gears. “I messed up.” Stamping his feet flat, he started to rise.

“If you head for that beer bottle, I'll crack it over your head,” Pippa warned him. “We have to work this out. If that bomb wasn't for me, then it was for Seth. And so was the candy. Someone's trying to kill him, and he's out there on his own right now.”

Doug turned his lip up and snarled, then grudgingly lowered himself into the chair again. “You got a nasty mouth on you.”

“Yeah, I know it. I steam Seth every time I open it. But I don't believe in pussyfooting around when something needs doing. Should we call the police?”

Doug grimaced. “They ain't done nothing yet. I vote we call that fella Dirk. I think Seth's told him a hell of a lot more than he told the cops. Call his lawyer, too, and tell him to have Seth call us. I wish the man would carry a cell phone like normal people do.”

“That's what he has me for: answering phones. His car is probably the only place he gets any privacy. I can't blame him. Where else is he likely to go?”

“No place you can call,” Doug answered grudgingly. “I'll take care of that. You call the lawyer and get that Dirk person on the line.”

Well, that told Pippa something she didn't want to know. Seth was heading for L.A. and another woman. Creep. All men were creeps in one way or another. When would she ever learn that?

Probably never. As Doug stomped out of the room to make his own calls, Pippa hit the numbers for Seth's private detective. She'd call the police, too, just in case, although one would have thought they'd have traced the package by now. Maybe they were checking out poor Charlene first. If Pippa could really learn to despise men, she'd just let Seth protect himself and she'd sit here and watch instead of making an idiot of herself.

She wouldn't do that either. “Wimp,” she muttered as she reached Dirk's secretary. She couldn't even watch men she despised get hurt.

“Miss Cochran? Mr. Ridgewood is on his way out to Garden Grove now. I left a message on Mr. Wyatt's machine.”

Pippa looked at the blinking light and sighed. “He didn't pick up his messages before he left. He's on his way into L.A. If Mr. Ridgewood checks in, tell him to call here.”

Not good, but not necessarily disastrous. The bomb may not have had anything to do with anyone in Garden Grove. It could have come from New York, or Japan, for all anyone knew. The Chevy that had followed them the other night had probably been Billy playing tough. He wanted her, not Seth, she thought.

Muttering an uncomplimentary expletive beneath her breath, Pippa dialed the police. The detective wasn't in. She left a message. She called the lawyer and got voice mail. The office wasn't open yet. With all the complex communication equipment in this world, it had become virtually impossible to talk to anyone, Pippa thought, hanging up.

Now what? Maybe she was worrying over nothing. No one knew Seth had gone to L.A. except the people in his household. He should be fine. But someone was trying to kill him.

Okay, who? Natalie, probably. Her husband? Maybe. Pippa shrugged. Golding hadn't seemed the emotionally unstable type, but who knew what Seth had said to him over the years. All right, add the professor. And Taylor Morgan. Heck, she'd like to punch Seth a time or two herself. He probably had people waiting in line wanting to wring his neck. Maybe he ought to go sleep with his editors for a while. They were probably the only people in the world who might protect him right now. Unless his next book stank.

This was not productive. Pippa looked up as Lillian entered.

“Has Seth already left? I thought I'd have him stop by the house and pick up a few things for me. I guess I'll have to send my driver. Did he look over those contracts that arrived yesterday?”

Lillian appeared more anxious than usual, driving Pippa's already frayed nerves a little closer to snapping. “He left a little while ago. I don't think he had time to look at the contracts. Are they urgent?”

“Well, they should be mailed off by tomorrow. I'll look at them and leave him a few notes. I wish he'd talked to me before he left. I'd already told Stan he could have the day off, and I believe he made plans. He won't be happy.”

Pippa didn't think highly of Lillian's lazy, narcissistic driver. He spent more time with the barmaids in town than driving Lillian anywhere. Maybe upsetting his plans would save some poor girl's virtue for a day.

“Just don't tell anyone where Seth has gone,” Pippa warned. “He didn't take Doug with him, and that crowd in town is out for blood.”

Lillian wrung her hands. “Surely they wouldn't harm Seth? Maxim used to do dreadful things and no one ever tried to harm him. I thought the police decided that bomb was for you. I didn't mean to say anything, but I thought you should be a little more cautious.”