offer to buy Margaret’s store by 20 percent, and that Steve had given her a week to consider. She ended the message with a question. Did Laurant know that Steve wasn’t going to pay out any of the money to those who had sold until all the stores had signed?
A clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. Laurant slumped against the back of the chair, concentrating on the droning whir of the tape as it rewound. Her resolve had taken another beating, yet she knew she would have to summon the energy to deal with this latest crisis. Poor Margaret. Laurant knew she didn’t want to sell, but business at the bakery was poor these days, and the money Steve was offering would be enough to ensure Margaret a comfortable retirement. How could Laurant, in good conscience, talk Margaret into holding firm when there was a good chance she would lose everything?
She jumped when Nick touched her shoulder.
'Laurant, I’d like you to meet Joe Farley. He’s going to be staying with us.'
The agent came forward to shake her hand. 'It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.'
Laurant’s mind switched gears. The fight to save the town square would have to be put on the back burner for now.
'Please call me Laurant.'
'Sure,' he replied. 'And you can call me Joe.'
Joe was a thickset man with a bushy mane of red hair and a round face that lit up when he smiled. One of his front teeth was slightly crooked, and that humanized him somehow. Even though he too was wearing a gun, he didn’t seem as imposing or as rigid as Mr. Wesson.
'Do you usually work with Nick?'
'I have a few times,' he answered. 'I’m usually stuck in an office, so this is quite a change for me. I hope you don’t mind, but Feinberg and I have made a couple of changes in your alarm system. It isn’t fancy, but it will get the job done.'
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, 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.'
