In Harm's Way (Heroes of Quantico Series, Book 3) (16 page)

"Hi, Rachel. My name is Mildred Watson. I read the article
in St. Louis Scene yesterday, and I found your phone number
in the book. I hope I'm not disturbing you, dear, but my cat is
missing and I wondered if your ability works with animals too.
I have her toys here at the house and I'd be happy to bring them to you if you think you could get some sort of reading that might
tell me where she went:' The woman recited her phone number,
said a polite thank-you, and hung up.

Rachel shook her head in dismay. "That's the seventh call
since the paper hit the stands at noon yesterday. At least this
woman sounds rational:"

"If you call believing that cats can send messages through
toys rational:" Nick gave her a dubious look.

"Trust me. Compared to some of the people I've heard from,
this woman is rational:"

Nick picked up her coat from the back of the couch and held
it as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. "Anything scary?"

The question was casual, but Rachel sensed an undercurrent
of seriousness. "No. Unless you count the woman who claimed
I was doing the devil's work and wanted to perform an exorcism
on me:" She tried for a light tone but didn't quite pull it off. That
one had been a little freaky.

"I expected you to get a few of those. Do me a favor, okay?
Double-check all your locks for the next few weeks:"

"Do you think I should be concerned?" Rachel stopped buttoning her coat. Moistening her lips, she tucked her hair behind
her ear.

"Careful more than concerned. It always pays to be cautious.
You never know what an article like that will pry out of the
woodwork. How have your friends and co-workers reacted?"

"I warned them ahead of time. Played up the magazine's reputation for sensationalism. Explained the theory your friend's
wife proposed. When it came out, I got sympathy rather than
weird looks. And a few compliments on the photo:" She shook
her head and picked up her purse. "I can't believe the paper sent
someone to the hotel to take a photo during tea. People often
celebrate special occasions there and take lots of pictures, so I
didn't even notice. That was pretty sneaky."

"We're talking about St. Louis Scene, remember?"

"Good point:"

"And the photo was nice" He winked, but as the phone began
to ring again he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the
door. "We're out of here"

"No argument from me."

As they stepped outside, he pulled the door shut behind them
with a firm tug.

"Saved from the bell." Rachel fitted her key in the lock and
smiled up at him. "This was such a nice idea, Nick. I haven't
been out to breakfast on a Saturday in ages. Where are we
going?"

He took her arm and guided her down the walk toward his
car. "A place called Nick's"

She shot him a surprised glance. "Your house?"

"You said at lunch the other day you'd like to see it. And my
claim last Friday wasn't idle. I can cook"

"Are we having omelets?" she teased.

"Nope. Eggs Benedict:"

"Seriously?"

"Would an FBI agent lie?"

He gave her that engaging grin, the one that dented his cheek
and sent her pulses fluttering. "I hope not'

"You can trust me, Rachel." There was more behind the words
than a mere promise of a decent breakfast. The sudden darkening of his eyes told her that. But he didn't give her a chance to
dwell on it, switching from intense to teasing in a heartbeat.
"Besides, I have a business proposition for you"

"A business proposition. Hmm. That sounds intriguing. Let's
see ... are you considering piano lessons?"

Chuckling, he waited while she slid into the passenger seat.
"I don't have a musical bone in my body" Shutting her door, he
circled the car, took his place behind the wheel, and picked up the conversation. "I appreciate music, but as for making musicthe Lord shorted me on that talent, I'm afraid"

"A lot of people say that without ever giving it a try"

"Not me. I tried. In grade school, one of the foster families
I stayed with enrolled me in the band. I guess they thought it
might be a good outlet for ... lots of things. Didn't take. After
giving me a chance on the violin, clarinet, and percussion, the
teacher suggested I switch to choir. That lasted about a month.
I had no ear for harmony."

"Maybe you just never found your musical niche"

"No. The sad truth is I'm not gifted in that way, like you are.
But how did you manage to develop your talent, moving among
foster families and schools?"

She lifted one shoulder. "Some of the families had pianos.
Some of the schools offered lessons. But I didn't have the opportunity to focus on it until college:"

"I bet you sing too"

"Some. But you know what I really wanted to do? Dance. I
love ballet"

"Why didn't you?" The instant the words left his mouth, he
gave her a stricken look. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I keep forgetting
about your leg"

She smiled, wanting to reassure him. She'd made her peace
with her limitations long ago. "Don't apologize. I consider that
validation for all my years of physical therapy. Besides, I may not
be able to do ballet, but nothing prevents me from watching it.
That gives me a lot of pleasure, too. Now what's this business
proposition you mentioned?"

"If you can be patient, it might be easier for me to show you
rather than tell you"

"Patience isn't my strongest virtue. But I'll try"

Fifteen minutes later, when Nick turned into a long drive,
Rachel stopped mid-sentence at her first glimpse of the house he called home. The stately brick two story had all the classic
Federal-style features: windows arranged symmetrically around
a central doorway; front door topped by a fanlight and flanked
by narrow side windows; dental molding in the cornice; black
shutters. A wide set of brick steps curved out at the bottom
in gracious welcome. The roof looked new, the tuck-pointing
recent, the paint fresh. Gigantic oak trees and towering maples
dotted the immense, manicured lawn.

"Wow" It was all she could manage.

"You wouldn't have said that a couple ofyears ago" Nick grinned
and set the brake. "The place was falling apart. There was a hole
in the roof the size of a large beach ball, a lot of the windows were
broken, none of the plumbing worked ... it was a mess"

"Why didn't some developer buy the place, knock it down,
and build three houses on this lot? That's what they're doing in
every other hot area of town. And Chesterfield definitely falls
into the hot category."

"They tried. But the historic preservation folks raised a ruckus.
The house was granted a reprieve while they scrambled to find
funding to restore it, but their deadline was approaching when
I appeared on the scene. With their help, I got the place for a
song, considering the prime location. Some of them still show
up now and then to check on my progress"

"How will they feel when you pack up and move on?"

"Saving the house was their main interest. As long as I pick
the buyer for this one very carefully, they'll be happy."

While they ascended the brick steps, Nick pulled out his keys.
"The back door is my usual style, but you don't get the full effect
that way. For your first visit, I thought we'd do it right:"

First visit. Rachel liked the sound of that.

Fitting his key in the lock, Nick ushered her in to the sound
of a rhythmic beeping. "Security alarm," he explained, entering
behind her.

As he opened a small door constructed of decorative molding and punched a code into the box hidden behind it, Rachel
surveyed the spacious foyer. She didn't know a lot about architecture, but even her untrained eye could appreciate the careful
restoration and decorative details.

Hardwood floors gleamed; white spindles glistened on the stairway that rose, turned, and hugged the wall as it ascended; graceful
arches led to what she supposed was a living room on one side
and a dining room on the other, though both were unfurnished.
Carved marble mantels graced both rooms, and light spilled in
from the large Palladian windows. Twelve-foot ceilings enhanced
the sense of space and gave the house an airy, open feeling.

No detail had been spared, from the intricate crown molding
capping all the rooms to the elaborate plaster ceiling medallion
around the crystal chandelier in the dining room.

Awed, she shook her head as he drew up beside her. "My
whole house could fit in your living room:"

"They built them bigger a hundred and fifty plus years ago"

"I can see that. Did you do all this yourself?"

"Pretty close to 100 percent of the visible work inside. The
plumbing and some of the electrical repairs I left to the experts.
Let me take your coat and we'll start our tour on the second
floor"

She shrugged it off, watching as he hung his leather jacket
beside her wool coat in the hall closet. His eyes seemed especially blue today, thanks to the dark blue pullover he wore over
an open-necked white shirt and black slacks.

"My lady" He gestured to the stairs with a flourish.

Rachel started up the wide staircase, Nick beside her. The
proportions of this house suited him, she noted. His tall frame
and broad shoulders had dwarfed her tiny bungalow, but the
scale of this house accommodated his lean, powerful physique
and larger-than-life presence.

Upstairs, he showed her how he'd combined two of the five
bedrooms to create a master suite. Another bedroom had been
transformed into a well-equipped gym. Some finishing touches
were still in progress, but the heavy work was done.

Descending a back flight of stairs, he walked her through
the kitchen-where modern amenities had been incorporated
without losing the historic character of the house-and ducked
into the small study/library with built-in bookcases, located
behind the living room.

Although the master bedroom had contained a bed and
dresser, and there were a table and chairs in the kitchen, the
study was the only room Rachel considered fully furnished. It
boasted a couch, easy chair, lamps, and TV.

"May I ask you a question?" Rachel ran a finger along the
chair rail as they returned to the front of the house via the
central hall.

"Sure"

She stopped in the arch to the living room and scanned the
room. "How come no furniture?"

"Because I spend all my money on rehabbing?" He grinned
and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"I could buy that:"

`And it's partly true. But the real reason is that I've lived in a
variety of houses, all different styles, and what worked in one
wouldn't have worked in another. My last rehab was a contemporary sixties ranch. Nothing I'd have bought for that house
would have fit in here. So it's easier to travel light:'

"Makes sense:" She gestured toward the front corner of the living room, beside the fireplace. "But if I was furnishing this room,
I'd put a baby grand piano right there. If I could afford it"

"I take it they're pricey?"

"Very. A true extravagance. For my needs, the old upright in
my spare bedroom-turned-studio is more than sufficient:" She folded her arms across her chest and smiled. "Okay, I've been
patient. Now what's your business proposition?"

He led the way across the foyer. "It occurred to me after I saw
your dining room that this room might benefit from a mural too:"
He gestured to the blank wall separating the dining room from the
butler's pantry that led to the kitchen. "What do you think?"

Hands on hips, Rachel moved to the center of the room
and surveyed the blank expanse above the ornate wainscoting.
"What would be the purpose? You sure don't need an illusion
of space"

"Purely decorative. Before I started this rehab, I researched
period Federal-style houses and I noticed some of them had
murals"

"That's true. They did. A mural would be appropriate to the
period. But I've never tackled anything quite this large. It would
take weeks"

"That's what I'm counting on"

She turned to find him regarding her with a slow, intimate
smile that curled her toes.

Uncertain how to respond, she tried to focus on practical
matters. "This wouldn't"-she had to stop to clear her throat"be cheap"

"I think it will be worth every penny."

That remark left her speechless.

When the silence lengthened, Nick's smile broadened. "I'll tell
you what. Why don't you put some ideas and estimates together
for me to consider? If you're interested:"

Interested? Was he kidding? Doing the mural would be fun,
but the big attraction was spending more time with Nick. And
he seemed to feel likewise. She'd do the job for free, except she
counted on her mural business to supplement her income and
this job would cut into the time she could give to other commissions. But she'd lowball the price.

"Okay. Give me a few days."

"Sounds fair. Now how about some breakfast?"

"Lead the way. Considering the magic you've worked with this
house, I have great expectations for your culinary ability."

"You might want to reserve judgment on that until after
breakfast:"

She smiled. "I'll take my chances"

As she followed him back down the hall, she considered her
last comment.

And realized that when applied to Nick Bradley, it was true
for a whole lot more than breakfast.