Operation Nanny

WANTED: NANNY

MUST BE GOOD WITH WET WIPES AND GUNS.

Lacey Miles becomes the unexpected sole guardian of her young niece. Knee-deep into an investigation of a sleeper cell, Lacey finds that motherhood is a lot more perilous than she expected, so she hires a nanny with an impeccable résumé…who’s a far cry from Mary Poppins.

Beneath his friendly demeanor, Jim Mercer is a former Marine turned undercover agent, tasked with ferreting out the terrorists targeting Lacey and her loved ones. Jim may be the ultimate caretaker, but the closer Lacey comes to blowing her case open, the more Jim’s true identity is revealed. And the deeper he falls for this vulnerable little family.

Campbell Cove Academy

Lacey Miles stared at Jim a moment, her only reaction a slight narrowing of her eyes.

“Ms. Taylor said you had specified that you had no issues with hiring a male caretaker.”

“I don’t,” she said bluntly in a tone that suggested just the opposite.

“You seem as if you’ve been blindsided.”

Her lips curved in a faint, perfunctory smile. “I guess I have been, in a way. I didn’t have a chance to look over your credentials or even get your name. I just wasn’t expecting a man.”

“Oh.”

“I’m in a hurry to make a hire, you see,” she added quickly, as if she realized what she’d just admitted made her sound ill prepared. “In fact, you’re the first person who’s even applied for the job.”

He was pretty sure he knew why. The story about the car bomb meant for her, the one that had killed her sister and brother-in-law instead, had made the national news. There weren’t a lot of wannabe nannies willing to walk into a situation like that. Which made him the perfect person for the job.

Operation Nanny

Paula Graves

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PAULA GRAVES, an Alabama native, wrote her first book at the age of six. A voracious reader, Paula loves books that pair tantalizing mystery with compelling romance. When she’s not reading or writing, she works as a creative director for a Birmingham advertising agency and spends time with her family and friends. Paula invites readers to visit her website, paulagraves.com.

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For my nieces, Sarah, Kathryn, Melissa and Ashlee,

and my nephew, Nathan. Most of you aren’t old enough

to read my books, but maybe you’ll look them up in a

few years, see this dedication and smile.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The blue pickup truck was in her rearview mirror again. It had been there, off and on, since shortly after she’d crossed the Potomac into Maryland. Of course, many vehicles—not just the pickup—had shared the road into Frederick with her, many of them staying behind her for miles at a time before turning off.

Maybe that was the problem, Lacey thought. The pickup had never turned off.

A soft whine from the backseat drew her attention away from the rearview mirror. She dared the quickest glance at the child seat belted in behind the passenger seat, reassuring herself that Katie was just being fussy. Her niece’s bright gray eyes stared back at Lacey, reminding her so much of Marianne that she had to suck in her breath against a sharp stab of grief.

“Almost there, sweet pea,” she said as brightly as she could manage. They were only a few minutes out of Frederick now, and early for the appointment for once.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t see the pickup anymore.

Frowning, she looked forward, her gaze drawn to the green directional sign coming up fast on her right, informing her of an upcoming exit. It was a couple of exits before the one she’d planned to take, but the prickling skin on the back of her neck made the decision for her.

She moved to the exit lane as quickly as she could and took the off-ramp. As she came to a stop at the bottom of the off-ramp, she spotted the blue pickup driving past her, continuing on the highway.

Blowing out a pent-up breath, she couldn’t hold back a soft bubble of laughter. Talk about jumping at shadows.

“Firsty,” Katie announced from her car seat.

“I know you’re thirsty, sweetie. As soon as we get to the employment office, I’ll get your apple juice for you, okay?” Lacey wasn’t sure how much her niece really understood at the age of two, but the little girl subsided into silence for the remainder of the slightly longer drive into Frederick.

Elite Employment Agency occupied a tall, narrow redbrick building near the end of a block of old restored row homes in the downtown area. To Lacey’s chagrin, there were no parking slots available on the street, but a small sign in front of the office indicated there was more parking available in the alley behind the building.

Lacey tamped down a creeping sense of alarm and followed the sign until she reached a narrow alley flanked on either side by what looked like large, sprawling garages. At the time some of these homes had been built, she realized, these garages might have been stables for carriage horses. They’d obviously been updated once automobiles became ubiquitous, but there was a quaint feeling here among the garages, as if she could pull open one of the doors and find herself immersed in the remains of the town’s rich history.

But as she parked in the small gravel lot behind the employment agency, some of the alley’s charm faded, for she found herself hemmed in between two large garages on either side and also behind her, where garages for the buildings on the next street closed the alley in like a narrow gorge.

Sunlight struggled to penetrate the steel-gray winter sky overhead, reminding Lacey that snow was expected later in the week. She hoped the interview with the prospective nanny would go quickly and well. The sooner she could get a nanny hired and settled into the old farmhouse, the better.

“Firsty?” Katie ventured from the backseat as Lacey turned off the car.

“Just a second, baby.” She reached across the seat for the diaper bag, praying she’d remembered to pack the apple juice. And extra diapers.

With relief, she found the cup of apple juice and snapped off the drinking-spout cover. “Here, sweetie.”

Katie grabbed the cup and upended it, drinking with greedy sucking sounds. Lacey took advantage of her niece’s preoccupation to gather up the bag and her purse. She checked twice to make sure she had the car keys before she got out and walked around to the trunk to retrieve Katie’s stroller.

The crunch of gravel was the only warning she got. It was just enough for her to reach into the trunk before a pair of arms wrapped around her and started dragging her away from the car.

She fought to stay with the car, wrapping her fingers around the first thing they found—the cold metallic bite of a tire iron. As the arms around her tightened like a vise, she twisted to one side and swung the tire iron downward. It wasn’t a solid hit, but the iron connected with her captor’s leg, and she heard a loud bark of pain and a stream of profanities in her ear.

The arms around her loosened, just a bit, but it was enough for her to jerk out of his grasp. Her first instinct was to run as far and as fast as she could, but the sound of Katie’s cries, muffled by the car windows, stopped her cold.

She swung around to face her captor, wielding the tire iron in front of her like a club. But whatever small bravado she could muster faltered as she saw the barrel of a large black pistol aimed straight for her heart. All of the earlier ambient noises of the day—the rustle of wind in the winter-bare trees, the hum of nearby traffic—were swallowed by the thunderous throb of her pulse in her ears. Her entire focus centered on the dark, black hole of the pistol’s barrel and the masked man who wielded it.

“Hey!” A man’s voice broke through the swoosh of blood in her ears, and the pistol barrel swung quickly away from her, aimed at the newcomer.

Jerking out of her frozen trance, she swung at the man as hard as she could, hitting his shoulder and sending him stumbling toward the alley. The pistol went flying under a nearby car as the man caught himself against its trunk. He pushed upright again, staring at Lacey for a moment, then at something down the alley.

“Stop!” The voice that had broken through her paralysis belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a neat charcoal suit who was running toward the man in the mask. He was still several yards away but gaining ground.

The masked man bolted down the alley, moving fast for someone his size. The man in the suit tried to pick up speed, but his dress shoes slipped and slid across the slick surface of the alley, and the man who’d pulled the gun on Lacey outdistanced him easily. There was a green van waiting halfway down the alley. The man in the mask jumped into the passenger seat and the car sped down the alley, took a turn and drove quickly out of sight.

Lacey opened the back door of her car and unbuckled her sobbing niece from the car seat, pulling her close and murmuring soft words of comfort to her as the man in the suit returned to where she stood, giving her a look of apology.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stopping short as she backpedaled away from him. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

She tucked Katie closer, keeping a wary eye on the newcomer. Just because he’d tried to come to her rescue didn’t mean he was anyone she could trust. Especially not now.

“I’m fine.”

He reached into his pocket slowly and withdrew a cell phone. He waggled it toward her as if to reassure her that it wasn’t any sort of weapon. “I’ll call the police.”

She looked behind her, where the back door of the building posed an almost irresistible temptation. She didn’t want to deal with the cops. She’d had her fill of the police in the past few weeks since her sister’s death. She knew they were just doing their job. Intrusive questions and suspicious minds came with the territory. Her own line of work shared some of those pitfalls; the people she interviewed were often emotionally distraught or shattered by the events they’d witnessed.

But knowing those facts didn’t make it easy to be on the other side of the interrogation. Especially when what was left of your sister and brother-in-law had just been zipped into body bags and carted off to the morgue.

“I don’t remember anything about him,” she murmured, feeling sick. Katie sniffled against her shoulder, but at least her wails had subsided.

“Not much to remember,” her rescuer said gently. “Did you see where his weapon went?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Under that car.” She nodded toward the late-model Buick parked next to hers. “But don’t try to retrieve it. He might have left trace evidence.”

“I know.” He punched numbers into the phone as he crouched beside the Buick and looked under the chassis. “A woman was just accosted by an armed man in the alley behind Elite Employment Agency on Sixth. No, nobody’s injured. The man lost possession of his weapon. I’m looking at it right now.”

Lacey’s knees began to shake, and she had to lean against the side of her car. Katie began to feel like deadweight in her arms, and, to her horror, she felt herself losing her grip on the little girl.

“Whoa, now.” The man rose quickly to his feet and caught Katie as she started to slide out of Lacey’s arms. “I’ve got her.”

Lacey waited for Katie’s wails to start, but to her surprise, the little girl just stared up with bright, curious eyes at the man in the suit. Bracing herself against the side of the car, Lacey held out her arms. “I’m all right. I can take her back now.”

He ignored her outstretched arms and opened the passenger door of her car. Nodding toward the seat, he said, “Why don’t you sit down right there, and then I’ll give this cutie back to you.”

It was a good idea, so she sat sideways, her feet still on the pavement. The man handed Katie back to her, and the little girl wriggled around until she was facing the stranger.

Katie was smitten, Lacey realized with some surprise, glancing up at the man, who was still making funny faces at Katie. Now that she wasn’t drowning in adrenaline, Lacey could see why. Their rescuer was a good-looking man, with a mobile face that seemed made for smiling. His exertions had mussed his short, sandy-brown hair, revealing a tendency to curl.

His gaze shifted away from Katie and settled on Lacey, warmth shining in his hazel-green eyes. Sympathy tinged his voice when he spoke. “Feeling a little less shaky?”

“Yes, thanks.” The moan of sirens in the distance seeped through the sound of traffic noise. “That must be the cops.”

“Must be.” The man smiled faintly. “I’m Jim Mercer.”

“I’m Lacey Miles.”

His smile spread. “I know. I’ve seen you on TV.”

“Oh.” She still felt strange when people recognized her, even though she had just finished her third year on air with the news network. “I haven’t thanked you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t shown up and chased that creep away.”

He glanced at the tire iron she’d dropped by the car. “Probably brained the guy,” he said wryly.

She laughed, even though nothing about the past few minutes was funny.

The sirens grew louder, and the flash of blue and cherry lights lit the gloom of the alley. A second later, a white-and-blue Frederick Police Department cruiser pulled up behind Lacey’s car.

The next half hour proved to be almost as stressful as the attempted ambush, as Lacey had to answer dozens of questions, first from the responding officers, then from the detective who arrived a few minutes later. Because of the cold, the detectives took them inside the employment-agency building to ask questions, but the warmer temperatures didn’t do much to improve Katie’s mood. She cried every time Lacey tried to put her in the stroller, so Lacey ended up answering the detective’s questions while bouncing a fretful Katie on her knee.

“He was wearing a mask,” Lacey answered for what felt like the tenth time. “I didn’t see his hair or his eyes. He was pointing a gun at me. I just saw the gun.”

At the other end of the conference-room table, Jim Mercer was answering questions posed by another detective, who looked bored and sleepy. Jim glanced her way once, his eyes soft with concern. A warm sensation spread through her chest in response, catching her off guard.

He’s a stranger, and you are in no position to feel anything for a stranger, she reminded herself. Trust no one.

Detective Braun finally closed his notebook and held out a business card. “We’ll see if we can get anything off the weapon. But even if we can track it with the serial number, it’s possible it was stolen. However, you can call me if you remember anything else, and I’ll be in touch if we’re able to track anything down on your assailant. It’s just—”

“I understand.” She took the card. “I know there’s not much to go on.”

“You might want to call a friend to drive back to Virginia with you,” he suggested. “So you’re not out there alone.”

She nodded even though she knew there was nobody she could call. Her work had been the center of her life for the past ten years, to the point that it consumed her life almost entirely. The low pay and bad hours paying her dues on the local level, then the big move to the occasional national gig and, finally, a regular investigative slot on a national network—all those steps up the career ladder had taken a big toll on the rest of her life.

She’d always thought there would be time later, time to rebuild friendships and family ties that had suffered during her upward climb.

Now Katie was all she had left, and she had absolutely no idea how to be a mother to her sister’s child.

“Do you think it could be connected to the bombing?” she asked Braun as he started toward the conference-room door.

He stopped and looked at her. “It’s possible. But this attack seems pretty random.”

“Someone set a bomb in my car. My sister and her husband were killed because they borrowed it. Maybe you remember that bombing—Marianne and Toby Harper? Ring any bells? And now, two weeks later, I’m accosted at gunpoint. I’m not sure I’d call that random.”

Braun looked both sympathetic and frustrated. “I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am. You may be right. It may be connected. I plan to make a call to the DC police and compare notes with the lead detective in the bombing case. Maybe we can come up with a more solid connection.”

As he left the room, Lacey tucked Katie closer, breathing in the warm scent of powder and baby shampoo. Meanwhile, she thought, Katie and I are sitting ducks.

* * *

“AND YOU’RE SURE you didn’t make out anything about the license plates?” Detective Marty Ridge stifled a yawn.

“No,” Jim answered, trying not to let his impatience show. If he’d seen a license plate, he’d have described it in detail. But the plate on the green Chevy van had been obscured with mud. Probably on purpose. He couldn’t even be sure whether they were Maryland or Virginia plates.

“Well, we’ll have to hope the weapon gives us something to go on,” Ridge said in a tone that suggested Jim’s testimony was going to be no help at all.

Jim stifled a grimace of annoyance and glanced down the table at Lacey Miles and her niece. The little girl was fussing despite her aunt’s attempt to soothe her. From the expression on Lacey’s face, she didn’t know how to comfort the child, which made him wonder just how much she knew about taking care of a baby.

“Call if you think of anything else.” Rising, Ridge handed Jim his card, but from the look on his face, it was something he did out of habit rather than any real hope that Jim could add anything to the investigation.

After Ridge left, Jim walked to where Lacey sat. Katie looked up at him and her pout turned into a smile. Something inside him melted as the little girl held out her arms to him.

“No, Katie. Mr. Mercer has to go now.” The smile Lacey flashed in his direction was halfhearted at best.

“Actually, I have an appointment here. A job interview.”

“Oh.” Lacey’s sandy brows lifted slightly as she looked him up and down. He quelled the urge to squirm a little at her scrutiny, even though her gaze seemed as sharp as that of any drill sergeant he’d ever faced during an inspection. “Well, good luck.”

“Thanks.” He left the room, his steps faltering briefly when Katie began to cry. As he closed the door behind him, he heard Lacey’s soft murmurs of comfort, and he wondered if the little girl would be appeased.

At the front office, he gave his name to the receptionist, apologizing for being late and explaining the situation.

“You’re lucky,” the woman said with a friendly smile. “Your appointment is late, too.”

He glanced back toward the conference room, where he’d left Lacey Miles and her little niece. “I know.”

* * *

THE EMPLOYMENT OFFICE MANAGER was a tall, sharp-eyed brunette with the bone structure of a model named Ellen Taylor. She wore a sleek blue suit that fit her angular body to perfection, and her voice was inflectionless and polished. “I’m so sorry for your ordeal, Ms. Miles.” She spared a brief smile for Katie, but she was clearly not someone who had much experience with small children.

Join the club, Lacey thought. “I hate that I’ve kept the prospective nanny waiting.”

“It’s not a problem,” Ellen assured her. “Are you ready?”

Lacey glanced at her own rumpled suit and Katie’s tear-streaked face. She sighed. So much for a good first impression. “Sure.”

“Good. Before we start, how do you want to handle this? Do you want me to sit in or do you want to handle the interview yourself?”

If she thought Ellen Taylor knew anything about babies or nannies, she might have asked her to stay. But she might as well go into this interview the way she’d continue after she hired someone—clueless and needy.

Besides, she was a professional reporter. She’d interviewed presidents, prime ministers and kings, as well as rebels and terrorists. If she couldn’t handle asking a prospective nanny a few pointed questions, what kind of reporter was she?

“Very well. I’ll let you handle it, and then when you’re done, you can tell me whether you want to interview any other prospects.” Ellen left the room in a faint cloud of Chanel No. 5.

“Oh, wait—” Lacey began, but the door had already clicked shut behind the woman. “Damn it.”

She’d forgotten to ask for a résumé beforehand. She’d planned her early arrival so she could do a quick read through the potential nanny’s employment history so she could ask intelligent questions. No reporter liked to go into an interview blind.

“Oh well,” she murmured against Katie’s cheek. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough if we’ve found our own Mary Poppins.”

There was a quiet knock on the conference-room door.

“Come in,” Lacey said, taking a deep breath to calm her sudden rattle of nerves and pasting a smile on her face.

The door opened and Jim Mercer entered, a faint smile on his face. “Hello, again.”

“Oh. It’s you.” Her smile faded. “Did you forget something?”

“Actually, no.” He smiled at Katie, who reached out for him again. “Hey there, sweetie.”

Lacey tugged her niece closer. “I hate to seem rude, considering how you came to our rescue, but I don’t really have time to talk. I’m about to conduct a job interview.”

Jim pulled out the chair across from her and sat. “I know. I’m the one you’re interviewing.”