It’s the best mix I’ve come up with so far.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds kind of tragic but it’s a hobby of mine.”
Judging by the large pot rack hanging over her island and the broad selection of cooking implements, the lady liked to cook. “Did you do the decorating yourself?”
She cradled a mug of her special brew in both hands. “I did. The remodeling and the decorating. I spent a lot of time in salvage stores and hustling to remodeling sales. It got to be a kind of competition with myself to see how much money I could save.”
“Looks like you have a knack.”
“That’s what my grandmother said.” She smiled, remembering. “I was just a kid when I helped her remodel her old farmhouse. She was all by herself and my parents were on the road with business all the time. One day we just tore into the place and started fixing things up. It was a learning experience, let me tell you.”
“Your folks live around here?”
She shook her head. “They’re all long gone. Died when I was a kid. Had foster parents through my crazy teenage years and, believe it or not, I just got a little crazier after that. I didn’t get my act together until I had Buddy.”
He knew her history but asking the logical questions was necessary for his cover. “Well, you turned out pretty damned good, Ms. Seagers.”
Those brown eyes searched his. “What’s a guy like you doing hanging around the High Noon and tossing out compliments to lonely women?” She heaved one shoulder then let it fall. “Or here, for that matter? You’re clearly educated, polished. Not the usual cowboy who hangs out in saloons.”
“The company I worked for went south. I have some savings. I decided taking a little time off to just chill would be a good thing.”
“You seem a little young to retire.”
He laughed. “True. But there’s a high burnout rate in security services. A lot of pressure and a lot of long days and even longer weeks.”
“You’re on break,” she suggested, her expression a bit wary and openly disappointed.
He nodded. “I guess I am.”
“Why bother with working for me? I mean, it’s still security work. Last night can’t be your idea of chilling.”
“Definitely not the same.” He finished off his coffee. “Most of my work involved high-risk principals. Politicians, celebrities. Lot of pressure. Last night was a cakewalk.”
She poured him another cup. “You meet anybody really famous?”
“You mean like a rock star or movie star?” he teased.
She scooted up onto the counter. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“A few. A former president and vice president impressed me the most.”
“Wow.” She pursed her lips. “I may have to get you a special T-shirt for work.”
“Does that mean I have the job?”
She held his gaze for a bit. He didn’t miss the hesitation in her eyes. “I don’t usually trust people right off the bat. I take a while, most of the time. But for some reason I do trust you, Hayden.”
That should have made him relax. It sure would make his assignment a hell of a lot easier. But it also meant that she would eventually learn that he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Knowing that she had decided to trust him made that part a whole lot harder.
“I’m flattered,” he confessed. A woman like her didn’t trust easily.
“Just make sure you don’t make me regret it. And when you’re ready to go back to your real life, I expect a two-week notice.”
The tension held a moment. “You have my word.”
Another second or two of that thick silence elapsed.
“I guess you have the job, then. Barring any unflattering information from your references.”
“Fair enough.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Now I have a question for you.”
Her expression turned skeptical. “Be aware, I reserve the right not to answer.”
“Agreed.”
“So ask.”
“Why’re you lonely?”
She looked confused.
Before she could put two and two together, he went on with the question that had nothing to do with his assignment. “A woman as young, smart and hot as you should never be lonely.”
Surprise flashed in her eyes but quickly reverted to wariness. “I was trying to be funny, Hayden. I don’t have time to be lonely.”
He’d hit a nerve there. He glanced at the array of hanging pots and pans. “You must be a heck of a chef.”
“I can hold my own.” She set her cup aside, visibly relaxed. “The only time I’ve ever known a man to be interested in kitchen utensils was if he was a chef himself or if he was hungry.”
Joel grinned. “I’m afraid my culinary skills leave something to be desired.”
Laney folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll make a deal with you, Hayden. You cut the grass and I’ll make you a breakfast you’ll tell your grandkids about.”
“Deal.”
Joel was only too glad to help.
One step closer to where he needed to be.
Chapter Four
Colby Agency, Houston, 9:00 a.m.
Victoria Colby-Camp reviewed the records they had amassed on the Barker case. What was she missing?
Each step taken by the investigating detectives after the arrest of the Barkers was spot-on. There was every reason to believe that the Barker girls had died that final morning before their parents’ arrests. The blood at the house and in the family car had suggested foul play. The blood type was consistent with that of the little girls. The bodies were not recovered and no trace of the girls had been discovered in all these years.
Until now.
If Janet Tolliver, Rafe Barker’s friend who had helped with whisking away the children, had lived, perhaps she would have been willing to cooperate with the agency’s investigation and solved at least part of this mystery.
But she had been murdered and the killer was still out there. Had she been killed by another of Rafe’s confidants? That wasn’t logical and no other resource he might have used had been discovered.
And why would he kill the woman who had kept his secret all these years? To cover his tracks? Had Janet Tolliver known incriminating information
