you talk to her?” Mack asked anxiously.
“I did,” Sam replied. “And the answer to your next question is no. I haven’t gotten the information you need. But I’m working on it, which is why I called. I need a favor.”
“What?”
“Personal references.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain later. Right now I need you to call Lenny, Pastor Nolan, Bill and Jack Phelps. Tell them that Leah Kittrell might be calling and asking questions about me. If she does, tell them to keep whatever information they offer to a minimum and not to mention anything about me being in the Army.”
“Why not?” Mack asked in confusion. “Your service record is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“No,” Sam agreed. “But if Leah finds out I’m in the military, it’ll kill whatever chance I have of getting the information you want.”
Leah frowned in concentration as she fussed with the strands of ivy draping the tiered crystal pedestal centered on the sample table setting she had arranged. Once satisfied with the design, she would photograph the table, note the style and color of linens used, as well as the other accessories, and record them all in the client’s file to reference for the wedding reception scheduled for October.
“Looks good.”
Leah glanced over at Kate, her assistant, then back at the centerpiece and worried her lip. “You don’t think the ivy will obstruct the guests’ views?”
“You’re just obsessing because Mrs. Snotgrass is the client.”
“Snodgrass,” Leah corrected. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to slip and call her that one day.”
“It would be worth it just to see the expression on the old biddy’s face.”
“Easy for you to say. It isn’t your business she’d send down the toilet.”
Kate snorted. “As if she could.”
Leah lifted the digital camera hanging from her neck and moved around the table, clicking off shots of the table from different angles. “Though I appreciate the vote of confidence, Mrs. Snodgrass’s opinion carries a lot of weight in this town. One derogatory comment from her and my business would suffer the reverberations for months.”
Satisfied that she’d taken enough pictures to record all the accessories used in the design, she headed for her office to download the photos into the appropriate file.
Kate trailed behind. “How’s the search going for the mechanic?”
“I found one.”
Kate dropped down into the chair opposite Leah’s desk and lifted a brow. “Really? Who?”
“Sam Forrester.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s not from around here.”
“Then how’s he going to do the work?”
“He’s staying in the apartment over the garage.”
Kate sat bolt upright. “A complete stranger? Have you lost your mind?”
“I checked his references,” Leah said defensively.
Scowling, Kate slouched back in the chair.
“Which doesn’t mean squat. The references he gave could all be his friends.”
Leah caught her lower lip between her teeth, having thought the same thing, then shook her head. “No. He seems like an honest guy. He even agreed to allow Craig to help with the restoration.”
“He’s probably cleaning out your house as we speak.”
“Would you stop?” Leah cried. “You haven’t even met the man.”
Kate rose. “Then introduce me.”
Leah looked up at her blankly. “Now?”
Kate shrugged. “No time like the present. We can grab some lunch on the way back.”
“And who would mind the shop while we’re gone?” Shaking her head, Leah plucked her purse from beneath her desk and headed out.
“Where are you going?” Kate asked, following her.
“I—I forgot something at home.”
Kate bit back a smile. “Liar. You’re going to check on the mechanic.”
Leah opened her mouth to deny the statement, then clamped it shut and marched out the door, her chin in the air.
Settling into the apartment above Leah’s garage took Sam all of about five seconds. All he had with him was crammed into his duffel bag, which consisted of about four changes of clothes, his toiletries and an extra pair of boots—all civilian wear, since he was on a monthlong leave from the army.
He’d just dumped his underwear and undershirts into a drawer when he heard a tap on the exterior door.
“Come on in,” he called. “It’s open.”
Just as he stepped from the bedroom and into the sitting room, Leah was bumping the front door closed with her hip. And a nice curvy set of hips at that, he noted.
She lifted her arms, indicating a stack of towels and washcloths. “Thought you might need these. My cousin and her husband were my last guests, and I forgot to restock the linen closet after doing the laundry.”
“Thanks.” He took the linens from her and set them on the antique trunk that served as a coffee table.
“And speaking of laundry…do you mind if I use your washer and dryer? I’ll supply my own detergent.”
“Help yourself. It’s off the kitchen. The controls are self-explanatory, but let me know if you have any problems.”
“I’m sure I can figure it out.”
When she didn’t make a move to leave, he looked at her curiously. “Was there something else?”
Avoiding his gaze, she picked up a pillow from the sofa. “About your references…” she began uncertainly as she plucked at its corded edge.
“Is there a problem?”
“No. No problem. In fact, they were all glowing.” Huffing a breath, she tossed the pillow to the sofa and turned to face him. “Yes, there is a problem. Not a one of the men I spoke with mentioned anything about your past work history.”
Though he knew he was treading on dangerous ground, Sam wasn’t worried. He’d gotten himself out of tighter spots in the past. “Probably because I’ve never worked directly for any of them.” He gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat,” he
