Operation Nanny

“I’m fine,” she answered, almost believing it.

He followed her inside, waiting next to her while she engaged the dead bolt on the front door. “I heated up the potpie. I thought you might be hungry.”

She was, she realized. “Starving.”

He set the suitcase on the floor in the living room and led her into the kitchen, where a warm, savory aroma set her stomach rumbling. “It’s not much,” he warned. “Canned vegetables, canned chicken and canned cream-of-mushroom soup.”

“Beats ramen.” She shot him a quick grin as he waved her into one of the seats at the kitchen table and retrieved a plate of casserole from the microwave. It was warm and surprisingly tasty for something straight out of a can. “Not bad.”

“I’m glad you’re home safe,” Jim said. The warmth in his voice and the intense focus of his gaze sent a ripple of pleasure skating along her spine. She quelled the sensation with ruthless determination.

He was Katie’s nanny. Nothing more.

“Why don’t you try to relax?” he suggested when she started to carry her empty plate to the dishwasher. “I’ll clean up.”

“That’s not your job, you know—” The ring of her cell phone interrupted. With a grimace, she checked the number, frowning at the display. It had a DC area code, but there was no name attached. She briefly considered letting it go to voice mail before curiosity made her pick up. “Hello?”

“Lacey Miles?” the voice on the other end asked. It was a male voice, deep and no-nonsense.

“This is Lacey,” she answered, troubled by something she heard in the man’s voice.

“This is Detective Miller with the Metropolitan Police Department. Did you place a phone call to a Ken Calvert earlier this evening, telling him you couldn’t meet him?”

She tightened her grip on the phone and dropped into the chair she’d just vacated. Jim paused on his way to the sink, turning to give her a worried look. “How did you know that?” she asked Detective Miller.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “We found the message on Mr. Calvert’s phone. I regret to inform you that Mr. Calvert died earlier tonight.”

Chapter Five (#ulink_d9ff8aae-f60e-5a7f-bbc3-2714f3ee7458)

Lacey’s face had gone pale, and her gray eyes flicked up to meet Jim’s. Whatever she’d just heard over the phone had been a gut punch. “What happened?”

Jim eased quietly away from the sink and sat in the chair across the table from her, trying to guess the other end of the phone conversation by reading Lacey’s expression. But she had recovered quickly from the shock of whatever she’d just been told over the phone and now sat composed and quiet, only a faint flicker of emotion in her eyes betraying her inner turmoil.

“I see,” she said a moment later. “Of course. You want to see me tonight?”

Jim glanced at the clock on the wall over the table. It was eight-thirty. If someone was planning to meet with Lacey this late in the evening, something pretty significant must have happened.

But what?

“I’ll be here,” Lacey said finally before she ended the call and set her cell phone on the table in front of her, looking at it for a moment as if it was a dangerous beast she expected to strike.

“Are you okay?” Jim asked.

She looked up at him. “The man I was supposed to meet tonight was murdered.”

Jim’s gut tightened. “My God.”

“He was found at a parking deck on Virginia Avenue, near the memorial, shortly after seven.” She passed a hand over her eyes. “The police didn’t give me any details, really. But a detective wants to talk to me tonight. Since I was the last person to call Ken on his cell phone.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

She shook her head as if to ward off his sympathy. “It wasn’t like we were close. He was a source for some stories I did in the past.”

“He had a new tip or something? Is that why he wanted to meet you tonight?” Jim tried not to sound too eager for her answer.

“Something like that,” she answered vaguely, sounding distracted.