Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1)

Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1) Page 27

She glanced at Nick. “I don’t have an alarm system.”

“You do now.”

Joe explained. “We’ve wired all the windows and the doors so that when anyone comes inside, we’ll know it. A red light will flash, but the alarm won’t make any noise,” he assured her. “We don’t want to spook the unsub. We want to draw him inside and nail him. Hopefully, he won’t know he’s triggered the setup. Of course, any stranger that comes near your house is going to get marked by the agents outside.”

“The house is being watched?”

“Yes, it is.”

“How long will you be staying here?” she asked.

“Until the first of July . . . if we haven’t caught the unsub before then. I’ll leave when you do.”

Her head was spinning. It was becoming more and more difficult to push one crisis aside while she concentrated on another. She turned around and headed for the kitchen, the men trailing behind her. “I need a cup of tea,” she said wearily.

“Laurant, you’re not waffling about leaving, are you? We did talk about this,” Nick reminded.

“Okay, I know,” she answered weakly.

“I mean it, Laurant. You’re out of here—”

She cut him off. “I said okay.” Her irritation was loud and clear. “Mind telling me where I’m going?”

“With me.”

“Will you stop doing that?” she demanded loudly.

The burst of temper surprised Nick. He raised an eyebrow as he leaned back against the kitchen table and folded his arms. “Stop doing what?”

“Giving me dumb answers,” she muttered. She grabbed the white teakettle from the counter and went to the sink to fill it with water.

It didn’t take a trained eye to see that the pressure was getting to her, but the timing couldn’t have been worse because Nick was also feeling like a cranky, caged animal. Now that they were in Holy Oaks, the waiting game began, and God, how he hated that part of his job. He’d rather have a root canal than wait around for something to happen.

Working with Jules Wesson was already turning out to be a problem. Nick had spent ten minutes on his mobile phone trying to get Wesson to give him information, but every time he asked a question, Wesson hedged. Nick knew what he was doing, pushing him out of the loop.

Joe dragged a chair out from the table and sat down, but Nick followed Laurant to the sink. “What the hell does that mean? Dumb answers?”

She bumped into his chest when she turned. Water sloshed out of the mouth of the kettle, splashing his shirt.

“You never give me a direct answer,” she told him.

“Yeah? Like when?”

“Just now was a good example. I asked you where I was going, and you answered—”

He cut her off. “With me.”

“That isn’t a direct answer, Nick.”

Without a thought as to what she was doing, she grabbed a towel and began to blot the water off his shirt. He snatched it out of her hand and tossed it on the counter.

“I’m not sure where we’ll be going,” he told her. “When I know, I’ll tell you. All right? And by the way,” he added, leaning down until they were nose to nose, “that’s the only damned time I haven’t given you a straight answer.”

“No, it isn’t,” she countered. “I asked you how many agents were here in Holy Oaks, and do you remember what your answer was? Enough. Now, what kind of a straight answer was that?”

The muscle in his jaw flexed, indicating the price he was paying for holding his temper. “If I knew the exact number, I wouldn’t tell you. I don’t want you to see them or look for them.”

“Why not?” She pushed him out of her way and went to the stove, put the kettle on the front burner, and turned it on.

“Because then you’ll be staring at them or looking for them every time we go out, and if the unsub’s watching you—which, by the way, we’re pretty damned sure he’s going to be doing—then he’ll notice you noticing the agents.”

“You two fight like an old married couple.”

Laurant and Nick turned as one to frown at Joe.

“We weren’t fighting,” Nick told him.

“We were simply having a difference of opinion,” she insisted. “That’s all.”

Joe grinned. “Hey, I’m not your kid you’re trying to convince. I don’t care if you fight or not. The fact is both of you probably need to let off a little steam, and you might as well clear the air right now.”

Laurant noticed the stack of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Joe had obviously made himself at home but hadn’t bothered to clean up. She scowled at him, then got the Palmolive soap from the cabinet and filled the sink with water.

Joe noticed what she was doing. “I’ll wash those. I was going to put them in the dishwasher, but you don’t have one.”

“It’s an old house.”

Nick picked up the towel and started drying the plate she handed him, as Joe leaned back in his chair and got comfortable.

“Nick, about leaving on the first . . . ,” Joe began.

“Yeah?”

“Wesson wants her to stay.”

“Tough. She’s leaving on the first.”

“He’s gonna pull rank.”

“He can try.”

“How come you’re so firm on that date?”

“Because Tommy estimates a couple of thousand people are going to be flooding in here on the second and third. There’s a big university reunion going on while the town celebrates the anniversary. I’d like to get her out of here before, but she’s got to be in this wedding, and she won’t leave.”

“I’m telling you, Wesson’s determined to keep her here for as long as it takes.”

“And I’m telling you she’s leaving. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Laurant stay with a crowd that size coming here. How can I protect her?” Shaking his head, he added, “It isn’t gonna happen.”

Joe raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m easy with whatever you decide. I just thought I should warn you you’re in for a fight, that’s all. As far as I’m concerned, you’re calling the shots.”

Laurant handed Nick another dish to dry and asked, “What about Tommy? Will he also be leaving on the first?”

“You know how stubborn your brother can be. He thinks it’s important that he help the abbot.”

“But you’ll make him leave, won’t you?” she pleaded. “He won’t listen to me, but he will listen to you.”

“Yeah? Since when?”

“You’ve got to make him leave when we do. If he doesn’t go, then I don’t go. Tell him that. Then maybe he’ll stop arguing.”

“Calm down,” he said when he saw the stricken look in her eyes. “Noah promised me he’d get him out of here one way or another. He may have to coldcock him and drag him out,” he added. “But hitting a priest isn’t gonna faze him. Noah gave me his word, so you can relax. Trust him.”

“Is anyone hungry?” Joe asked hopefully. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

“I guess you are,” Nick remarked.

“I’m starving. Feinberg was supposed to figure out a way to bring in some groceries, sneaking in through the back lot behind your house, but man oh man, those two old ladies next door are always looking out their windows. He hasn’t been able to get past them. They should be working for the FBI.”

“They don’t know you’re still here, or they would have said something to me or Nick.”

“I haven’t left the house since I came in,” Joe explained. “Those old ladies went out that afternoon, and I’m assuming they think I left while they were gone. I’ve been real careful about the lights at night,” he added.

“Couldn’t Feinberg bring the groceries from the other side of the house?” she asked.

“He couldn’t get to a door that way, and it was too much of a risk to try to hand them through the window.”

Laurant let the water out of the sink, dried her hands, and then began to look through the refrigerator for something for Joe to eat.

“You find anything in there? I sure couldn’t. I just ate the last of your cold cuts, and all that’s left is cereal,” Joe said.

“So the cupboards are pretty bare, huh?” Nick asked.

Laurant closed the refrigerator. “I’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow,” she promised.

“I was hoping you’d offer. I’ve got a list made up . . . if you don’t mind.”

“If you’re really starving, we could go out and get you something,” Nick offered.

Laurant shook her head. “Everything’s closed this time of night.”

“It’s not even ten o’clock. Nothing’s open?” Nick asked.

“Sorry. All the stores close at six.”

“I honest to God don’t know how she handles living here,” he told Joe. He straddled the chair across the table from the agent and added, “There’s not even a bagel shop within fifty miles. I’m right, aren’t I, Laurant?”

She’d just finished searching through her pantry and closed the door, empty-handed. “Yes, you’re right, but I get along just fine without fresh bagels.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a Krispy Kreme donut shop in town,” Joe lamented.

“No, there isn’t,” she said.

Laurant opened the freezer on the bottom of the refrigerator and began to search through the frozen vegetables.

“Did you find something in there?” Joe asked eagerly.

“Some frozen broccoli.”

“I’ll pass.”

The kettle started whistling, and Nick reached for a cup and saucer. “You want any of this, Joe?”

“I’d rather have iced tea.”

“We aren’t here to serve you, buddy. If you want it, fix it.”

Nick made Laurant sit down and served her a cup of the tea.

“Neither one of you should criticize the town until you’ve been here at least a week. You have to get into the swing of things first. The pace is different,” she said.

“No kidding,” Nick drawled.

She ignored the sarcasm. “Once you learn how to slow down, you’ll like it.”

“I doubt that.”

She was getting angry. “You should keep an open mind. Besides, if I want a bagel, I buy a package at the store and defrost them.”

“But those aren’t fresh,” he complained. “Everyone eats bagels, Laurant. They’re a national staple. What do all those college kids do? Bagels are healthy, damn it. Kids know that.”

“Oh, stop whining. You’re acting like one of those Americans who would come all the way to Paris and insist on eating at McDonald’s.”

“I wasn’t whining.”

“Yes you were.”

“Whatever happened to the sweet sister I met in Kansas City?”

“I left her there,” Laurant answered.

Joe got up from the table, grabbed the box of Rice Krispies from the cabinet, got the skim milk out of the refrigerator, and then reached for a tablespoon and the biggest bowl he could find. “This Brenner guy increased his offer by twenty percent to buy the woman’s bakery, huh?”

Laurant gave him a surprised look.

“I listened to your messages,” he stated. “And it sounded to me like Margaret’s close to folding. The deal could be too good to pass up, especially if she’s as old as she sounded over the phone.”

“She isn’t that old, but you’re right. The money would be her retirement.”

“You’re trying to save the town, aren’t you?” Joe asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m only trying to save the town square. I don’t understand why people think progress means tearing down beautiful old buildings to put up slick new ones. It doesn’t make any sense to me. The town will be fine with or without the square, but the charm . . . the history . . . that will be lost.”

Nick watched her stir the tea. She’d been doing that for the last couple of minutes, but she hadn’t taken a drink yet. She sat motionless, staring pensively at the swirling liquid in the cup. The sound of the spoon clinking against Joe’s empty bowl eventually drew her attention.

Laurant noticed that he glanced at his wrist as he carried the dish to the sink.

“Joe, why do you keep looking at your watch?” she asked.

“ ’Cause I’ve got it wired,” he answered. “If the red light goes off on the panel I’ve hooked up in the guest room, it will trigger the alarm on my watch.”

Thunder cracked close by, and it began to rain. Joe was thrilled by the sound. “Mother Nature’s going to help us out tonight. Let’s just hope the storm’s a bad one.”

“You want a bad storm?”

“I sure do,” he answered. “Because Nick wants to disable the camera after you two have put on your little performance for our unsub. I’m gonna make the lights flicker a couple of times, and then I’m gonna turn everything off. I’ll hit the main switch,” he explained. “When the lights come back on, the camera won’t.”

“I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep with the camera watching you,” Nick said.

“No, I wouldn’t. Thank you,” she said, relieved.

“The camera’s plugged into an outlet up in the attic,” Joe told her. “We’re hoping he’ll come inside to turn it back on, thinking that the breaker just needs to be reset.”

She nodded. “And you’ll be waiting for him.”

She propped her elbow on the table, rested her chin in the palm of her hand, and stared at the back window with its blinds closed. Was he out there now, watching and waiting for his opportunity? How would he come at her? While she was sleeping? Or would he wait until she was outside and try to grab her then?

Rain began to pelt the windows.

“You guys ready to go upstairs?” Joe asked. “The storm could slow down any time, and I want to take advantage of this opportunity while it lasts. I’ll go down to the basement and mess with the circuits. You two wait here until after I’ve turned the lights off and flipped them back on. Then you go upstairs and do your thing. I’ll give you five minutes and then I’ll turn everything off again. Nick, you dismantle the camera and when you’ve done that, shout down to me, and I’ll turn the lights back on.”