Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1)

Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1) Page 31

“Apparently she did.”

“Drive, Nick. Just drive.”

He laughed. He simply couldn’t help it.

She ignored him and stared out the window while she struggled to get her temper under control.

“You aren’t being very logical,” he pointed out. “What’s going to happen when this is over and I go back to Boston? Are you going to make Lorna print another retraction, or are you just going to admit that you lied to her?”

“I’m never going to admit I lied. Never. I won’t give that vile woman the satisfaction of knowing she was right. I’ve got a horrible reputation with the men in this town because of her lies.”

She folded her arms and stared down at her lap. She knew she wasn’t being reasonable, but she was too angry with the Gorilla to care.

“Lorna doesn’t have any ethics. None at all. I swear I’ll go to any lengths to avoid admitting I lied. I’d even marry you,” she exaggerated. “And you’re totally unsuitable.”

Nick slowed the car. “What do you mean, I’m unsuitable? What’s the matter with me?”

“You aren’t safe. That’s what’s the matter with you. You wear a gun, for heaven’s sake.”

“I told you before, it goes with the job.”

“Exactly.”

“There aren’t any guarantees in life, and there’s no such thing as completely safe, at least not the way you mean it. Bus drivers can be killed while they’re doing their job.”

“Oh? How many bus drivers do you think get involved in shoot-outs?”

He gritted his teeth. “I don’t know all that many FBI agents who get into shoot-outs, as you so quaintly put it,” he muttered. “You’re being completely illogical. You do know that, don’t you?”

Her spine stiffened. “Maybe I don’t want to be logical. What’s wrong with that?”

“Let me get this straight. Even though you know it’s illogical, you’d still marry me just to spite Lorna?”

Of course she wouldn’t do such a thing. And of course she wasn’t going to admit it to Mr. Always-logical-know-it-all. “What’s your point?” she asked

“Nothing. If you don’t see anything wrong with it, then I don’t either.”

She folded her arms and gave him a belligerent nod. “Good. October fourteenth . . . seven P.M. . . . Pencil it in.”

CHAPTER 22

One man’s trash could become another man’s treasure. That was Laurant’s hope, anyway, as she sorted through a dozen mildew-infested boxes of old, moth-eaten linens and broken knickknacks someone had stored in the attic over fifty years ago. By the time she stopped for the day, she was covered in a layer of dust, her white slacks were gray, and she was sneezing every other second from the moldy cardboard. Unfortunately, she didn’t find a priceless van Gogh or Degas painting tucked in with the trash. In fact, she didn’t find anything she didn’t consider old junk, but she refused to lose heart. She’d only just started the job, after all, and there were over sixty boxes still sealed for her to sort through.

Nick helped her haul the trash down four flights of steps on their way to the car.

“Do we have time to stop by the seamstress to pick up my bridesmaid dress?” she asked.

“Sure, if we hurry. We’re supposed to pick up Tommy and Noah in an hour. That’s enough time to shower and change.”

The minute they arrived home, she ran up the stairs, passing Joe on his way down.

“Just made the rounds and everything’s locked up tight,” he assured her.

Nick carefully draped the dress over the dining room table and headed for the kitchen to grab a cool drink.

Laurant rushed to get ready. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and come out of the bathroom wearing an ugly, old, ragged robe, and so she gathered up everything she would need, including her sling-back shoes.

Twenty-five minutes later she decided she was as good as she was going to get. She was pulling out all the stops tonight, and so she wore the dress. It was short, it was black, and it had just enough spandex in the material to make it cling in all the right places. The flattering square neckline showed only a hint of cleavage. She’d worn the dress only once since moving to Holy Oaks, and that was when she had taken Michelle and Christopher out to dinner to celebrate their engagement. Michelle had nicknamed the outfit “the killer dress,” said it was indecently decent, and insisted that it was the sexiest thing Laurant owned. Christopher had been emphatic in his agreement.

Laurant stood in front of the mirror primping. She even curled her hair, but because she was so out of practice, she burned her ear in the process. She stared at her reflection and let out a loud groan. Why was she going to so much trouble to look pretty? She wasn’t a teenager in the throes of her first love, but she certainly was acting like one.

My God, was she falling in love with him? The possibility sent chills down her spine. When his job was over, he would leave.

“This is nuts,” she whispered as she slammed the brush down on the counter. She had a stupid crush on her big brother’s friend. That was all there was to it.

Her ego took a real beating when Nick entered the room. He barely noticed her. After giving her one quick once-over—probably making sure her shoes were on the right feet—he told her Pete was on the phone, and when Joe finished talking to him, Pete wanted to speak to her. Nick’s voice sounded strained, and she wondered why he seemed so preoccupied.

He was looking over her head. “Nothing important,” he said. “He just wants to hear how you’re doing.”

Nick got a whiff of her perfume as he passed her on his way to the bathroom. He pretended not to notice, just as he’d pretended not to notice how incredibly sexy she looked in that tight black dress. Until he closed the door. Then he leaned against it, bowed his head, and whispered, “Damn, am I in trouble.”

They were fifteen minutes late picking up Noah and Tommy. Nick drove the car up the back driveway behind the abbey and pulled up to the steps. He and Laurant were getting out when Tommy appeared in the doorway and came running down the steps. Noah was nowhere in sight.

He hugged Laurant. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“Get back in the car.” He let go of her, opened the door, and tried to shove her inside, his anxiety apparent. “Nick, this is a bad idea.”

“Where’s Noah?” Nick asked. He waited until Tommy had gotten into the backseat, then slid in behind the wheel again.

“He’s coming,” Tommy said. “Why don’t we get carryout and go to Laurant’s house and eat. I don’t like the idea of her being out in public. It’s dangerous.”

She turned in the seat so she could see his face. “Tommy, I can’t stay locked in the house.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“The plan is to be seen, remember?”

“I know what the plan is,” he snapped. “Incite the madman to come after you.”

“He’s going to come after her,” Nick said quietly. “But we’d like it to happen sooner rather than later. We’ll be ready for him.”

“Like I said, this is a bad plan. Things can go wrong—”

Laurant interrupted him. “Did you know there are agents watching us right now?” She didn’t know if that were true or not. She was trying to calm her brother.

“Where are they?” he asked, craning his neck to look out the back window.

“You aren’t supposed to see them,” she said, sounding like an authority.

Tommy seemed to relax a little then. “Yeah, okay. Ah, heck. I forgot my wallet.”

“You’re not supposed to say that until the check comes,” Nick joked.

“I’ll just be a minute.”

Laurant watched her brother run up the steps and go back inside. “He’s more nervous than he was in Kansas City.”

“It’s understandable.”

Tommy came back outside a minute later and took the steps two at a time with his long stride. Noah was hot on his tail. It was then that Nick and Laurant saw what Noah was wearing. Nick started laughing first, but Laurant quickly joined in.

Noah was dressed like a priest in a black suit, black clerical shirt, and a white Roman collar.

“He’s gonna go straight to hell,” Nick said.

She had to look away so she could stop laughing. “Do you think he’s wearing a gun?” she asked.

“He has to carry a gun,” Nick said.

“All the time?”

“All the time,” he answered.

Noah didn’t bother with a greeting. He was determined to make Tommy agree with him on a subject the two of them had obviously been arguing about.

“I’m telling you, it isn’t normal.”

“Maybe not for you,” Tommy answered.

Noah snorted. “Not for any man.”

Nick guessed what they were quarreling about. “Celibacy, right?”

“Yeah,” Noah answered. “A priest never getting to have sex . . . that’s just not right.”

Nick laughed. Tommy shook his head and then tried to change the subject. “Where are we eating?”

Noah wouldn’t let the matter go. He couldn’t seem to get past the celibacy rule. “It’s just not healthy,” he said. “You don’t even notice all those women coming on to you. Do you?”

Tommy’s patience was wearing thin. “Yes, I notice,” he said. “And I ignore them.”

“That’s what I mean. It’s just not—”

Tommy cut him off. “Yeah, I know. It’s just not normal. Now let it go, Noah.”

Noah decided to accommodate him. “Damn, you smell good, Laurant. Or is that you, Nick?” he joked.

Before either one of them could answer, Noah said, “Have you noticed the ungodly number of vans in this town? Hell, they’re everywhere. I figure Wesson’s running the plates. He is, isn’t he?”

The question broke the carefree mood and the conversation became serious.

“I called him earlier to find out if he had any news. I figured he had run the plates on the cars of the workmen on Laurant’s block, but Wesson wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“What did he say?”

“ ‘I’m doing my job.’ That’s a quote.”

Noah sighed. “So, we’re the hired guns, is that it? He’s gonna keep us out in the cold.”

“It looks that way.”

“The hell with that. I’m not going to work blindfolded.”

Tommy began to grill Nick with questions and suggestions, and by the time they parked in the back of the Rosebriar Restaurant, Laurant had lost her appetite.

Noah grabbed Tommy’s arm when he tried to get out of the car. “Listen up, priest. You stay close. You go running off again, and I’ll shoot you myself.”

“Yes, all right. It won’t happen again.”

Noah smiled, his good mood restored. Tommy got out of the car and opened Laurant’s door for her. She swung her legs out and stood, self-consciously tugging on her skirt.

Noah let out a low whistle of appreciation. “You’ve got a beautiful sister, Tom.”

“It’s inappropriate for priests to whistle at pretty women.”

Noah glanced at Nick. “It’s been nonstop criticism since I put on this collar. I’m trying to be patient and helpful, but he’s making it tough.”

Tommy walked ahead with Laurant, his head bent down toward hers as they talked, and Nick fell into step beside Noah.

“Helpful in what way?” he asked.

Noah shrugged. “I offered to hear confession for one of the other priests, but Tom got all bent out of shape and wouldn’t let me.”

Tommy heard the comment and glanced back. “Of course I wouldn’t let you.”

“Your friend takes this priest stuff seriously.”

“All priests are supposed to take their job seriously,” Nick said. “I should have warned Tommy about your warped sense of humor.”

“He’s easy to rattle.”

“That’s because you know what buttons to push.”

“What about Laurant?”

“What about her?”

Noah winked. “Have you been pushing any of her buttons? I noticed the way you’ve been looking at her.”

“She’s off-limits. Wait up, Tommy,” he called out. “Let one of us go inside first.”

“Off-limits for you, or for me?”

“For both of us. She’s not the kind of woman you mess around with unless you’ve made a commitment.”

The cobblestone path curved around the building. Noah strode ahead of Tommy and Laurant while Nick trailed behind. Both agents were busy looking at the terrain.

Terra-cotta pots brimming with red and white geraniums lined the path to the door. The Rosebriar was an old sprawling Victorian-style house that had been converted into a restaurant. The dining room was richly appointed with crystal vases filled with spring flowers on all the white linen tablecloths. The china looked old and expensive.

The room they were shown into was in the back of the house, overlooking a duck pond and the woods. They were led to a round table in front of the window so they could enjoy the view, but Noah nodded toward a corner table and asked to be seated there instead.

The room was quite full. It was noisy with laughter. Quite a few families were dining with their children. As they threaded their way to the corner, heads turned to watch Laurant. Even the children were mesmerized by her. Laurant seemed oblivious to the admiring gazes of every man in the restaurant.

The waiter pulled the table out so that Laurant could sit in the corner. Nick sat beside her. Noah and Tommy faced them, but Noah hated having his back to the room, and so he angled his chair to see the other diners. He started to take his jacket off, realized his gun would show, and pulled it back up over his shoulders.

Tommy couldn’t sit still. Every other second he turned to look around the room. His head snapped up each time he heard a burst of laughter.

“Sit still and try to relax,” Noah ordered. “You’re drawing attention squirming in your chair like that. And quit staring at the other people. Don’t you know most of them?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, I don’t. That’s why I’m watching them.”

“Let us watch them,” Nick suggested. “Now get with the program. Okay?”