The Surprise Princess (11 page)

She glared at him. “You had no right—”

“Oh, no, you
are
mad.”

At the dismay in Maura’s voice, Katie gave Brad one more dirty look, then adjusted her expression as she turned to the girl. “Coach Spencer got carried away. But you all have done a fantastic job. As you always do.”

“Oh, this is way, way better than last year or the year before,” Maura said. “It’s been amazing to see what a transformation it’s made. It’s like one of those TV makeover shows.”

“Curb appeal,” Brad murmured.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, then turned back to the intern.

Maura swept her arm wide like a magician’s assistant. Katie’s eyes obeyed the gesture, looking from one side of her property to the other.

It truly was a transformation. In fairness, she could understand Maura’s excitement over that. But she couldn’t completely suppress a shudder, either. It felt like her house had had all its clothes ripped off.

“It might look a little bare,” Maura continued.

“A little,” she muttered.

She jerked her head around at the sound of amusement from Brad. He held his hands up in a placating gesture. If he could read her murderous mind right now, that gesture would be one of supplication.

“We got more plants – well, Coach Spencer did.” From the corner of her eye, Katie caught Brad making a “cut it” gesture with his hand by his throat. Maura picked up, “These plants will grow and fill in, and you can add in more of what you like. Give it a couple of years.”

“The lawn already looks happier,” Trevor said, brushing his hands on his jeans as he came up to join them.

“Yeah, and it’s not like we didn’t leave you any trees,” Brad added.

One Norway spruce remained at the corner of the lot. It had barely been noticeable before in comparison to the mass of trees in front of the house. Now it looked … regal.

“Had to take out some dead branches at the bottom,” Trevor said, apparently following the direction of her gaze.

“It looks airier, doesn’t it?” Maura said. “And look over there, you have lilac bushes.”

“I do?”

“That’s what the tree guy said. He said they probably won’t bloom this year but with the trees gone they’ll be a lot happier and he said you should get blooms next year for sure. Isn’t that cool?”

She was aware of Brad watching her. She carefully did not look at him. “If I’m going to feed this crew, I better get busy.”

She’d finished frosting the sheet cake she’d made before leaving for work this morning. She started the pasta when they began washing up at the back spigot so there’d be no delay. The spaghetti sauce was getting a stir when the interns began trooping in.

Brad was the fifth one in the door.

“You’re staying for dinner?”

“Thanks, I will.” He picked up a bowl and got in line.

“That wasn’t…” But she let it die. She’d have to be a lot ruder than she would be in front of the interns to get him to leave. Now, if they were alone…

Somehow the idea of their being alone didn’t make her more comfortable. She didn’t have to worry about that while the interns ate heartily from the spaghetti pot, then started on the cake. Although she was aware that Brad, sitting on the floor, was leaning against the side of the overstuffed chair she sat in.

Two interns stood, saying they had to leave to go study. Four more got up, including Trevor. Their departure would leave the room sparsely populated.

“You’re not going already,” she protested.

Trevor shook his head. “Heck no. More cake.”

She relaxed too soon.

Brad shifted, making room for two of the crew to get past. From this new position, he twisted his neck to look up at her, saying in a low voice. “Are you really pissed?”

“About the trees or the plants you obviously bought?”

“Uh, start with the plants. They’re smaller.”

“Yes,” she said with maximum sternness. “I’m paying you back for whatever you spent. For the trees, too. Even though… Anyway, I’m paying you.”

“You could take it as a gift.”

“No.”

He sighed. “Okay, go ahead, hit me with the next one. Tell me if you’re really pissed about the trees.”

“That you did it without permission? Yes. That the trees are gone? I don’t know yet.”

He grinned. “Honest Katie.” He turned more serious. “The trees had serious problems. The arborist’s a guy I know from the summers I worked landscaping, and he knows his stuff. I left his report on the kitchen table. It’s got his phone number if you want to call him to be sure I didn’t forge it.”

She clicked her tongue. “I can’t imagine why you’d go to that extreme. In fact, I can’t imagine why you did any of this.”

“Can’t you, Katie?”

She was saved from answering – or considering his question — by the interns returning with slabs of cake.

F
riday at the office, Katie didn’t look as if she’d slept particularly well the night before.

Sure couldn’t blame him for that, Brad thought. He wouldn’t have minded being to blame for it if – No. He’d decided not to go there with Katie.

That’s why he’d left her house last night along with the last two interns. His reward for that restraint had been seeing her relief, which did a lot for a guy’s ego. Reminding himself – again — he’d decided not to go there with Katie was no help. Dammit.

So he wasn’t to blame. And there hadn’t been much left to clean up, so that didn’t explain her low energy, either.

Maybe her tiredness today was because she was being run ragged. The Ice-Out Festival drew visitors and a high percentage of them thought it would be a good idea to drop in and introduce themselves to Coach C.J. Draper.

Between fielding phone calls from slightly more realistic visitors and needing to be polite to drop-ins – some of whom could not take a direct statement, much less a polite hint – Katie’s smile was flagging and he was about ready to throttle the next one who was a jerk to her.

Considering his mood – no sense examining the source of that too closely – he was sort of hoping the next jerk showed up soon. That’s why he was propped against the doorframe of a fellow assistant coach’s office door, barely listening to his colleague. This gave him a great view of anyone entering from the hallway.

The door opened to a well-dressed couple. They looked far too pleasant to draw a throttling, dammit.

“Hey! That’s my mug.” Katie half stood from her desk.

Beyond her, Maura let out a muffled screech.

Brad was already in motion, going after the slouchy student he’d noticed enter before the well-dressed couple, but had dismissed, since students knew better than to try to get in to see Coach without an appointment.

He vaulted the corner of an unoccupied desk, withdrew all throttling thoughts about the well-dressed couple when the woman stepped out of his way, the man said “Close the door” to the third member of their party, who’d come in last, and that third party did what he was told.

It wouldn’t have made a difference, because Brad already had the back of the mug-stealer’s collar, but he appreciated the quick-thinking and cooperation.

“Thanks,” he said briefly as he pulled the kid out of their way. He addressed the kid, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Stealing a coffee mug isn’t nothing.”

“Oh. Mr. and Mrs. Bridge, it’s so good to see you. And Eric.” Katie was beside him now, sending him messages with the significance in her voice and eyes. Message received: The trio was Eric Bridge, the top sophomore prospect, and his parents. “We’re so sorry about this. Please, let me take you right in for your appointment with Coach Draper. This sort of thing never happens at Ashton. Truly.”

Mrs. Bridge smiled. “If this is the worst thing that happens at Ashton, it’s a truly remarkable place.”

“You’re Coach Spencer, right?” Eric asked. “You’ve got some moves.”

A flicker of understanding passed between Brad and Eric’s father – both recognizing that the unspoken rider on the teen’s praise was
for an old guy
.

“Thanks.” He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. Thanks, too, for the quick reactions, all of you.”

“Well, I’m going to be mighty dull after this introduction to Coach Spencer,” C.J. drawled from behind him. “But I hope you’ll forgive me for that and come on in for a chat before your campus tour.”As he introduced himself and escorted them toward the conference room, he also managed to make a damping motion with one hand, cueing staff members who’d come out of their offices in response to the commotion to act casual. He introduced the Bridges to the staffers, as if this gauntlet were an ordinary welcome.

As C.J. closed the door to the conference room, he sent a look over his shoulder at Brad that combined a wink, a frown, and questioning eyebrows.

Still holding the kid’s collar with one hand, Brad wrapped another around Katie’s arm. “My office.”

“I have to answer—”

“Maura can handle it.”

“I will. Don’t worry, Katie.”

Inside his office, Brad gestured her to his chair behind the desk and sat the kid in the chair against the far wall. The kid would have to go through him to get out of the room.

He pried at the kid’s fingers clutching the mug. When the kid realized he was going to lose that battle, he released the mug and flopped back with sneering disinterest.

“It’s no big deal, man. It’s just a crappy coffee mug.”

Brad set the mug on the desk. “Why did you want it, then?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a college prank? Or was that too long ago for you to remember?”

Brad stared at the kid, knowing his own face gave away nothing.

The kid started fidgeting about thirty seconds sooner than Brad had expected.

Then he swore.

Then he said, “Just because some guy said he’d pay me fifty bucks to get her coffee mug—”

“
Mine
? Why on earth—” She snapped her mouth closed.

Clearly her speculation on one likely “why” matched his.

“Who?” Brad demanded.

“I don’t know. I told you, some guy. Never seen him before.”

“What’s he look like?”

“I don’t know. Old. Like he’d work in a garage or something.”

“Where are you supposed to meet this guy to get your money and when?”

Apparently at the reminder that he wasn’t going to be collecting fifty, he slid lower and mumbled with his chin against his chest, “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“You’re going to have to tell a whole lot of people everything. If you cooperate it might get easier as it goes along. If you don’t, it’s going to get harder and harder.” He paused, then added another, “And harder. The real question might be who you want to tell your parents about this – me? Campus police? Ashton police? Or worse?”

The bravado cracked at the mention of telling his parents.

“All right, all right. You’re making a federal case out of nothing. Geeze. I’m supposed to be at the library loading dock in half an hour with her stupid coffee mug.”Brad growled “Stay put” at the kid and left.

He stuck his head in the office next door and said, “Corston, will you keep that kid pinned in my office while I make a call?”

“Sure, Spence,” said the strength and conditioning coach, who could keep almost anyone on earth pinned when he put his might to it.

Katie came out before Corston reached the door. She was right behind Brad as he entered C.J.’s office, unoccupied since C.J. was with the Bridges in the conference room, and pulled the door closed.

She propped her hands on her hips. “You’re not going to call campus police. He’s a kid.”

“No.” He’d found what he was looking for on his phone and punched the button, telling her, “I’m calling Hunter Pierce of the State Department.”

“What? No. There’s no reason to—”

But he’d already heard the other man answer.

“Hunter? This is Brad Spencer from Ashton University. A kid, probably a student, tried to steal Katie’s coffee mug. He said some guy he’d never met before offered him fifty dollars for delivering her mug to him.”

“Tried to.”

“I stopped him.”

“Katie’s okay?”

“Yes. The kid’s in my office, being watched. So’s the mug. He’s supposed to deliver it in half an hour. Less than that now. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Damn. The man’s seen the kid, right?”

“Yeah. I might be able to get another student who could go, say the first kid got held up and asked him to deliver it, but I don’t like—”

“No, me either.”

“Then I’m going,” Brad said flatly.

“No,” Katie breathed.He kept talking into the phone, “If I get campus police, they could hold onto the guy – assuming I find him — at least for a while.”“Any description?” Hunter asked.

“Kid said he was old – which could be anything over twenty-two — and looks like he works in a garage.”

Hunter’s silence indicated he was thinking it over. Twenty seconds later, he said, “No. This doesn’t – No. Don’t get the campus police involved. I’m in Chicago, so I’ll head up there right away, but it’ll be a couple hours. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t do anything stupid.” Brad spoke into the phone, but his words were more for Katie. “Figured I’d stay out of sight and take pictures on my phone.”

“Good idea. Remember to turn off the ringer.”

“Advice from a pro, huh?”

“Prime advice,” Hunter confirmed.

K
atie protested.

With time running out, he said he was going. Period.

“At least take Tony,” she said.

He started to say no then thought better of it. “Good idea. If you’ll keep an eye on the kid and let Brewster keep an eye on you.”

So he and Tony Corston took off jogging across campus, while Martin Brewster sat with Katie in Brad’s office.

They cut through the library because it was the most direct route to the loading dock. He stationed Corston within hollering distance but out of sight, grabbed a jacket that looked vaguely groundskeeperish and snagged a push broom and wheeled garbage can from nearby.