Undercover With The Heiress. Nan Dixon

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Undercover With The Heiress - Nan Dixon Fitzgerald House

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when do you go to kindergarten?” he asked Issy.

      “Not ’til I’m...” She held up her hand, fingers spread out.

      Her father rubbed the girl’s back.

      “Five?” Kaden asked, to keep the conversation going.

      She nodded and ate more of the mouthwatering food Abby and Cheryl kept bringing to the table.

      What else could he ask a kid? “Josh says you’re getting a puppy when you move.”

      Issy nodded. “Like Carly.”

      He shook his head. “Who’s Carly?”

      Nathan explained, “My brother’s dog.”

      “Love Carly,” Issy whispered. The kid never spoke very loud.

      “That should be nice.”

      “We won’t get a dog that big, right, short stuff?” her father said.

      The girl tipped her head at her father and batted her eyes. “Maybe.”

      Everyone at the table broke out laughing. Even Courtney. He frowned. She hadn’t laughed the previous night. She’d worn a stunned expression on her beautiful face. Now it was more...sultry. He’d never described a woman that way.

      With a head full of ebony curls and brilliant blue eyes, Kaden imagined Courtney had flaunted her own childhood cuteness. She’d probably wrapped adults around her finger back then and men now.

      Gray and Nathan talked about the restaurant construction. Courtney chatted away with Josh.

      Kaden was stumped. How did you talk to a kid? What else could they talk about?

      “Josh, no drawing at the table.” Cheryl brought something fragrant to the table. “Pollo verde.”

      “What’s going on?” he asked Abby.

      “There’s an engagement party in the ballroom.”

      “That’s why we’re eating here,” Nathan added. “Abby and Cheryl always make enough to feed the crew so we benefit.”

      “And Mrs. Gonzalez gave me some of her family recipes.” Abby wiggled her eyebrows. “The pollo verde is hers.”

      Gonzalez? His body went on alert. Gonzalez family members were lieutenants in the Salvez cartel. The father, Jose, had worked his way up to underboss. Was it possible cartel members were in the Fitzgerald House ballroom celebrating?

      He touched the gun under his shirt. He couldn’t overlook the possibility that Hector Salvez might be upstairs with Heather Bole. His heart pounded.

      Kaden slid away from the table. “Excuse me.”

      Stepping next to Abby, he whispered, “Nigel said one of my jobs will be to set up for events. Do you mind if I peek into the ballroom?”

      Her reddish-blond eyebrows snapped together. “Sure.”

      “Third floor?”

      She nodded.

      “Let me take you up,” Cheryl volunteered. “I can see how things are going.”

      “Thanks.”

      Cheryl led him to a back stairway. As they neared the third floor, she asked, “Does this have to do with Issy?”

      What could he reveal? “Gonzalez is a name associated with the case. It’s a long shot, but it’s possible Salvez, Bole’s partner, is here.”

      Cheryl swallowed. “Do you think Heather is here?”

      “Only one way to find out.”

      In the service hallway, trays of stainless steel covers and dirty dishes were neatly stacked on carts. The muffled clinking of silverware and the hum of voices came through the door. “How many guests?”

      “The estimate was one hundred.” She swung open the door.

      “Will I be able to see most of them from here?”

      “About half. We can stop here and then go around to the ballroom doors.”

      Stepping inside, he scanned the ballroom, looking for any of the faces he’d memorized from the Mexican cartels operating in Georgia. He didn’t recognize anyone. And no sign of Bole, either.

      “Let’s check from the entrance,” he said.

      The main doors were open. And at least one man looked familiar.

      There were two tables of adults near the back, with two older men at each table. No one noticed as he zoomed in with his phone camera.

      “That’s all I needed.”

      Now he had to wait to see the actual photos. And he wasn’t good at waiting.

      * * *

      COURTNEY SWIRLED HER GLASS, but her margarita was gone. The glass clinked as she set it on the courtyard table.

      Look what her life had come to. She couldn’t remember ever drinking alone. All because of dear old Dad. Gray insisted she be ready to work at seven thirty—in the morning. Back home she wouldn’t get up until nine or later.

      She missed her friends, missed Boston and missed a home where she didn’t have to think about getting up at dawn. “Damn it! Why is my life so screwed up?”

      Footsteps echoed along the path. They stopped on the other side of the hedge and a hand reached through. A deep voice asked, “Everything all right?”

      The handyman.

      “Just...getting away from the lovebirds.” She jerked her head up to Gray and Abby’s window.

      Kaden came around the plants and scanned the area. “Were you talking...to yourself?”

      Here was someone to take her mind off her troubles. The soft lighting in Bess’s garden set a seductive mood. It barely lit her quarry, the hot Mr. Kaden Farrell.

      She shook her hair so it cascaded over one shoulder. She excelled at wrapping men around her finger. “My life is in a bit of an upheaval right now.”

      His eyebrows lowered. “That’s hard to imagine.”

      She moved closer, swinging her hips. “I’m bored. I don’t suppose you know of any nightclubs or someplace we could have some fun?”

      She set her hand on his chest. His muscles bunched under her fingers. She smoothed her hand up to his shoulder. Nice.

      “I don’t have fun.” He caught her hand and pushed it away.

      She stumbled into his body and looked up into his icy blue eyes.

      His gaze flicked down

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