Nanny by Christina Skye Page B

company, sir?” Summer moved closer to Cara and the girls as a man and woman emerged from the car.
    â€œThat’s Cara’s police escort. Since these threats began, the state police have provided a detail for her protection,” he said quietly. “For the moment it seems to be enough.” He looked at Summer. “You know about the threats, don’t you?”
    Summer nodded. Cara O’Connor had kept Summer’s real identity a secret from everyone, even the senator and his staff, until the source of the threats was identified. “When Audra vanished today, I shook out most of the museum to find her, sir. I’m afraid she suspects something is wrong.”
    â€œI’ll pass the word to Cara.” The senator grinned as the girls shot toward him. Sophy whirled in circles, pulling out her ballet shoes to show him, while Audra took his briefcase. With one arm around each girl, he walked toward the house, where Cara stood silhouetted in light from the big doorway.
    They were a real, loving family, Summer thought. The kind of family she’d once had and lost so suddenly. She felt a moment of jealousy and forced it down hard.
    Do the job,
she told herself.
Forget the emotions, because they can get you fired fast.
    Or even killed.
    She felt Gabe Morgan’s eyes on her.
    â€œYou okay?” he asked quietly. “I saw something in your face. One second it was there, then it was gone.”
    Summer shrugged. Why did this stranger glimpse the emotions she usually kept well-hidden? “Just a trick of the light.”
    She started to walk past him, but he caught her arm. “What’s wrong, damn it?”
    â€œNot a single thing.”
    But the truth was that working with a family was different from Summer’s usual assignments. She hadn’t expected the intimacy, or how it would affect her. She had to stay aloof and unmoved to get the job done. Meanwhile, she had one more surreptitious search of the house to complete before the girls went to bed. After that came a detailed report on the incident at the aquarium.
    â€œIf you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She pushed past him, shoulders stiff, determined to lock down her emotions where they couldn’t bother her—or jeopardize the job at hand.

chapter 9
    L ong curtains drifted at half-open windows. Summer would check each one later to be certain all were closed and locked, but for now it was pleasant to feel the sea wind on her face.
    Sitting on Sophy’s bed, with a book opened on her lap, Cara read quietly.
    â€œâ€˜It was late one winter night, long past my bedtime . . .’”
    Sophy gave a little sigh and closed her eyes. Stretched out beside her, Audra wiggled once, then relaxed, her feet hidden in pink bunny slippers. Liberace was curled on Audra’s lap, quiet for once.
    â€œâ€˜We walked on toward the woods, Pa and I.’”
    Summer had vague memories of reading this same book long ago, but there had been no bedtime rituals such as this in her house. She had chosen her own books, alone at the public library, while her father had been off on some military posting too secret for details. And her mother?
    She shook away cold memories and focused on the quiet bedtime scene before her, feeling like an intruder even though Cara had expressly requested her to stay.
    As the words flowed, Audra closed her eyes, and even Summer felt the tug of sleep and peace.
    What if there had been nights like this for her and her sister? How much better to grow up this way rather than within the tense silences of a household where people had forgotten how to communicate or even care?
    There were no answers. No sense of resolution. But Summer hadn’t expected any. You could never go back.
    Cara continued to read from
Owl Moon,
her voice soft with emotion, easy with long experience at the familiar lines. The girls joined in for train whistles and owl cries as the story unfolded, and the sense