The crease between Jen’s eyebrows disappeared. They’d been friends since the fifth grade, ever since they’d compared notes and discovered they were both Libras and Jen was only six days older. Jen was the only person outside immediate family who’d met her grandfather. She came closest to understanding why Kip was the way she was. She tapped the bedraggled wrapping paper and ribbon. “How long have you had this?”
“I saw it in a shop window when I was in Munich about five months ago. They wrapped it for me, or else it would be—”
“Wrapped in the funny pages or aluminum foil.” Jen laughed.
“I know it’s not easy—thanks for making time tonight.”
Luke’s sigh was loud, but fortunately lost in the shredding of the paper. Jen’s puzzlement was obvious as she considered the drawing on the outside of the box. She was probably thinking “A miniature china figurine? Me?”
She popped open the box with a smile, though, and pulled out the contents. When the cardboard and bubble wrap finally parted she let out a stunned gasp. “That’s amazing. Wow.”
She held it up on the palm of her hand so the others could see.Kip knew she would likely never care much for Luke, but he earned points by saying to Jen, “It’s the spitting image of your mom and the cat in your baby pictures!”
“Mr. Peeps,” Jen said. “And my mom wore an apron and a blue blouse all the time.”
“Can I see it?” One of the other friends held out a hand and Jen passed it along.
If it bothered Luke right then that Kip knew so much about 15
Jen’s past, it didn’t show. She got a look that said she might be tolerated a little longer along with an ungrudging, “What a great find.”
“It was total chance. The first time I went over to Jen’s house her mom was sitting at the window with the cat on her lap—just like that. Her hair was exactly that light shade of blond, too.”
“It was before how sick she was really started to show, but...”
Jen swallowed. “She was melancholy sometimes, just wanted to sit and think. It’s beautiful, Kip.”
“Then she made us cookies. Sugar cookies with bits of Hot Tamales. Best cookies I ever had.”
“They were the first cookies you ever had.” Jen took the figurine back and gazed at it one more time. “Your mom was such a food Nazi.”
“True, but remember how much my grandma spoiled me to make up for bulgar and wheat germ salad? Your mom was a great cook too,” Kip said. She patted Jen’s hand and Jen squeezed back.
They didn’t have to say aloud that the last cookies Jen’s mom had made them had been the day before she’d collapsed and died at home, her bad heart finally giving out. Kip was glad that Jen’s own heart was healthy and strong. It had been only another month before Kip’s grandfather had also died after a heart attack. There were reasons they were still friends, twenty-odd years later.
Luke didn’t miss the silent exchange and was frowning.
Nothing Kip could do about that, so she sipped the wonderful, fresh, fragrant, caffeine-infused coffee and joined the conversation as best she could. Jen did let her have a couple of bites of her vanilla gelato and toasted walnut caramel crepe. For a few scant minutes, life was relaxed and easy.
At eight fifteen she excused herself, not free to say she had a business appointment, only that she had to leave.
“I think you must have a hot date,” Luke said, after a fake cheek kiss.
“I wish,” Kip answered, even though she didn’t. She couldn’t handle a girlfriend right now.
“You sound like Kip’s ex,” Jen admonished him.
16
“He has a point—and so did she.” Kip gave Jen one last hug.
“Go get the bad guys,” Jen whispered in her ear.
Kip grinned. “I promise.”
17
Chapter tWO
“Thanks, Mercedes. Yes, I’ll take a jacket. Now go home to your family, would you?”
Tamara Sterling tapped off her mobile, knowing Mercedes wouldn’t leave for a few more minutes. The fax to the client in Hawaii would be securely received before she left. That was her job and she was going to do her job and what part of that was so difficult for Tam to understand? Wasn’t that why she hired people and paid them so regularly and handsomely? Not a conversation Tam wanted to repeat, certainly not tonight, especially when she knew Mercedes would have the last word because she was, as usual, right.
Even though she was not quite packed for her flight, Tam gave herself three minutes in the living room with a cup of her favorite coffee. She rarely got to linger in front of the view these 18
days. It did little to ease the gnawing heartsick feeling in the pit of her stomach, the feeling she’d had ever since she’d found a photocopy of an SFI bank statement next to the server array. It had been purely accidental. She’d cast a professional eye over it without thinking, and hadn’t believed what her instincts had told her: the statement had been altered.
If she started hanging around and peeking into files it might tip off the embezzler. She hoped that the several days she’d waited before seeking help hadn’t made matters worse.
The ring of the doorbell drew her away from the window.
Speaking of help, she thought. She had known from Kip Barrett’s supervisor’s reports that she was a capable, experienced investigator, but she hadn’t expected her to be so straitlaced. She appeared to have as much sense of humor as a rainy day. Of course, what did humor count for when she had handled that awkward moment with Ted so competently? She either had nerves of steel or no nerves at all.
She suspected the latter and idly wondered if she’d ever know for sure.
“I hope I’m not too late.” Barrett slipped into the foyer.
Her watch told her it was eight thirty-one. “Not at all.”
She was still in her suit from earlier in the day, but Tam thought she caught a faint aroma of sweets and coffee, as if she’d been to a restaurant. She didn’t exactly look like she’d been on a date. None of her business. Everybody needs to eat, she reminded herself.
She started to lead the way to the garage but Barrett froze at her first sight of the view from the living room. Everybody did that.“Holy wow.”
“It is lovely, isn’t it?” She let her have a good, long look. In her opinion, this ridge on the west side of Queen Anne Hill provided the most spectacular view of Seattle money could buy. The house was small, a custom design dating from the Sixties, and its trim outline was nestled into the height of the ridge, surrounded by trees and sky. The city glowed with mesmerizing activity. Lights 19
pooled to the north and south in all colors. The glow ended abruptly at the shoreline, then began again across the Sound in Bremerton. From the master bedroom, though she’d hardly take an employee there even if the view was spectacular, the Space Needle pierced the sky.
“It’s stunning.” Barrett pushed her car keys into her pocket.
“Friends from New York keep trying to get me to move there, but I’m devoted to Seattle. Views like these are one reason why.”
Certain she wouldn’t get an answer, but curious about how Barrett would react, she asked, “But you considered living in D.C., didn’t you?”
The openness of Barrett’s expression turned brittle. She turned away from the view to face her. “You’re persistent, Ms.
Sterling.”
“Call me Tamara, please.”
It was a very cool smile. “Personal is personal, Tamara.”
She let her smile turn cool as well. There was no mention of why Barrett had left the Secret Service in her file, and the mystery frustrated her. All mysteries frustrated her, a trait that was useful, though Mercedes had told her once that if she ever got answers to all her questions the earth would spin backward.