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“Yup. Always do. Nothin’ better than the wife’s cookin’,” said Henry before shoving another forkful of food into his mouth.
Henry Walker was a man of few words, apparently. Still, compared to her own father, he was almost glib. He didn’t exactly look like what she’d envisioned a steel company owner would, but his flannel shirt might play well to their target group. They’d have to get rid of the coveralls, though. They were a little greasy and just a tad more blue collar than the image they were going for. Though Hannah could see that he had once been a handsome man. It was clear that Danny got his eyes from his mother because Mr. Walker’s were brown, but the interesting angles of Danny’s face he owed to his father.
A slurping noise from the other end of the table brought her attention to Uncle Tuffy, who was noisily enjoying his iced tea. Although Uncle Tuffy also figured in Hannah’s choice, he was somewhat problematic, as well. But maybe his childlike demeanor would be endearing to middle America. The old, simple bachelor uncle. And they could always do something with his hair before the photo shoot.
But Kate Walker was the real find. She was perfect just as she was. In a pale yellow cotton dress and a flowered apron tied around her waist, her champagne blond hair worn softly around her kind face, Hannah could easily see her picture making a box of cereal more attractive to a harried working mother. Betty Crocker come to life.
She couldn’t wait to meet Sissy, the married daughter who lived close enough to take a walk over for a cup of coffee in the afternoon, and her husband and two children. Sissy was a stay-at-home mom. A rarity these days. And the Walkers were very much “hands-on” grandparents.
Hannah loved the whole Walker family setup. Sort of like a buffet of all-you-can-eat relatives. So there was one questionable dish on the buffet table? At least he was a gorgeous dish, she thought as she looked at him through her lashes while she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. His skin was tanned a warm, golden brown and there were streaks of pale blond in his hair. The sun that had browned his skin and bleached his hair had etched lines at the corners of his eyes—those striking blue eyes—that deepened when he smiled or when he laughed. Of course, he was mostly laughing at her. But still, Danny Walker, irritating as he was, was going to sell a lot of cereal.
The thought made her remember that she had business to discuss.
“I’ll need to set up interviews for all of you and for Sissy and her family, as well. I also intend to meet with the mayor, the chief of police, and the high-school principal.”
Henry grunted and Kate looked a little baffled. “Such a lot of work, dear. Is it really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so. One of my jobs is to supply the company with information they can use to create press releases. We expect there to be plenty of media interest in our Great American Family.”
“That’s us, isn’t it?” Tuffy asked anxiously. “We get the year’s supply of cereal, right?”
“Yes, of course. But, even better, in a month, Mr. Pollard, CEO of Granny’s Grains, will be arriving with an advertising crew for a photo shoot. The entire family will be featured on a whole series of cereal boxes to coincide with our Bringing America Back to the Breakfast Table campaign.”
“Sounds like advertising to me,” muttered Danny.
“Mr. Walker,” she said reasonably but firmly, “the results of my work will be used in an advertising campaign but that doesn’t take away from the fact that the process used to select your family as Granny’s Grains Great American Family was a scientific one. Now,” she said, turning back to Kate, “these interviews will be informal so there is nothing to worry about. It’s important that you just go about your regular daily lives so that I can get the flavor for how you live.”
“Ma, you should take the professor out to the greenhouse for feeding hour,” Danny suggested.
Well, thought Hannah with satisfaction, her tone had obviously worked. Danny had decided to be helpful. Still, he did have that twinkle in his eye—
“Are you interested in tropical plants, Hannah?” Kate asked.
“I’m interested in anything you do, Kate. I’d love to watch you feed your plants. In fact, the greenhouse should probably go on the list of possible sites I’m compiling to give the photographer when he gets here.”
“You mean he might want to take a picture of my babies?”
“Oh, absolutely. The company has gotten whisperings of interest from a few women’s magazines. The fact that you’re a gardener will, I’m sure, add to their interest.”
“You mean a picture of me and my babies in Gardening Today?”
“Possibly, Kate. If we get the press we want with this, you might even make the afternoon talk shows.”
“You could take your babies with you, Ma,” Danny put in. “Let ’em perform on the air.”
Hannah frowned. “Perform?”
Kate laughed and flapped her hand. “Oh, Danny is just being silly, Hannah. My babies can’t perform. Although it can be very entertaining to watch them eat.”
Hannah opened her mouth to ask another question, but decided it was just Kate Walker’s rather singular way of speaking. Watching her plants eat, of course, merely meant watching liquid fertilizer sink into the soil.
“Come along, my dear. I’ll introduce you to all my little darlings. You can even help me feed them!”
Hannah forgot all about the mocking devil sitting at the table watching her. She felt positively glowy inside. She barely remembered her own mother. She’d certainly never gardened with her. It seemed like such a mother/daughter thing to be doing. So sweet. So wholesome. So—well, so Great American Family.
She’d better take notes. It wouldn’t do to forget what she was really there for.
“I’ll just run and get my notebook and tape recorder out of the car.”
“Don’t be silly, dear, they don’t chew loud enough to record,” Kate said sweetly before she sailed out the back door.
Chew? “What did she mean chew?” Hannah asked Danny.
“You’re the intrepid researcher, professor. Shouldn’t you find out for yourself?”
Hannah opened her mouth to take the bait then thought better of it. Ignoring him, she left the kitchen and headed out to the station wagon for her things. When she came back through the kitchen with her notebook and recorder, Danny was, thankfully, gone.
Out in the backyard Hannah could hear Kate humming in the greenhouse as she made her way down the little brick walk lined with shrub roses that were just starting to bud. The song of birds and the scent of lilacs filled the air. This, thought Hannah with satisfaction, was just as it was supposed to be. Perfectly normal. Even better, it was perfectly perfect.
The greenhouse had a peaked roof and one of those doors that were cut in half like in the pictures you see of old country cottages. The upper half was open. Kate, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, was inside talking sweetly to her plants, holding one up in a hand that was covered by a cotton gardening glove sprinkled with tiny pink roses. In her other hand, she held a jar of—Hannah squinted and leaned in over the bottom half of the door for a better look. It couldn’t be—
But it was. Kate, looking like something on a Mother’s Day greeting card, was holding a glass jar of dead flies.
“There you are, dear,” she trilled when she saw Hannah. “Come in and meet my babies.”
Hannah sincerely hoped she wasn’t talking about the flies. She pushed open the half door and went inside.
Long wooden tables on either side of the room were filled with the strangest-looking plants Hannah had ever seen. She reached out to touch the fringed leaf of one and Kate said, “Oh, no, dear. Mustn’t touch. It makes them think you’re giving them something to eat and they could never digest anything as big as your finger.”
Hannah quickly pulled her finger back. “Excuse me?”
“Why, that’s a Dionaea, dear. My favorite one, in fact. I call her Dee Dee Dionaea. She’s highly carnivorous, you know.”
Hannah gulped. “Carnivorous?”
“Why, yes. All my little babies are meat eaters. You probably know Dionaea as Venus flytrap. Those colorful ones over there are Byblis and those,” she pointed with pride at a squat plant that looked like a specimen from outer space, “those are Australian Pitcher Plants. They drown their prey before digesting them.”
Hannah looked from the weird flora to the jar of dead bugs in Kate Walker’s dainty, rosebud-covered hand. For a second she thought she was going to lose her popovers. “And you feed them—”
“Flies, my dear. The neighbors have one of those bug zappers so I just go over there every few days and sweep them up from the patio.” Kate looked around as if to make sure no one was listening, then she leaned closer to Hannah and lowered her voice. “They have a dog over there—one of those silly standard poodles—so there’s always a lot of flies available. If you know what I mean.”
Hannah knew exactly what she meant. Suddenly the greenhouse seemed awfully warm, the scent of damp rich earth nearly overpowering.
“Of course, they also eat live insects,” Kate was saying. “In fact, they prefer them. Perhaps you’d like to take one up to your room while you’re here, dear? Just to make sure you’re not bothered by flies.”
The idea of trying to sleep with Dee Dee on the bedside table slowly munching moths or whatever other creatures flew by night was enough to bring on nightmares.
“Um—no, I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Hannah started backing toward the door. “Um, I think perhaps I’ll take a walk around town and sort of get my bearings.”
Kate looked concerned. “Are you all right, dear?”
“I’m—uh—fine.” Hannah pressed a hand to her stomach. “Just ate too much at lunch, I expect.”
“Oh, then perhaps a walk—”
Hannah didn’t wait to hear the rest.
Outside again the air was cooler. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and her popovers settled back down.
Terrific, she thought as she crossed the back porch and went into the house. Just terrific. Meat-eating plants. Not exactly normal. Okay, so maybe it was her fault for expecting nothing more exotic than an orchid or two. Obviously, there should have been a follow-up question on the entry forms. Do you garden—followed by just what the heck grows in your garden? Or even better yet, does your plant’s lunch have wings?
“Pollard isn’t going to like this,” she muttered to herself as she went through the kitchen. Maybe she could just cross the greenhouse off the list of possible sites for photo shoots. In fact, it might be better to keep the subject of gardening out of the picture entirely. “Calm down,” she told herself as she went through the lovely dining room and the inviting living room. So there was one little thing that didn’t quite fit the perfect picture. She’d just have to find a way around it, she thought as she opened the front door. Danny Walker was standing on the other side of it.
“Feeding time over already?” he asked.
Okay, thought Hannah with a groan, make that two little things that didn’t fit.
“Would you please remove yourself from the doorway so I can pass?”
“What’s the matter, professor? Did your data promise you a rose garden?”
“Very clever, Mr. Walker. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going for a walk.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you won’t,” she said curtly and started to step around him.
He put out his arm and braced it on the doorframe next to her, blocking her way. “But, professor, aren’t you afraid you’ll get lost again?”
This close to him, getting lost wasn’t what she was afraid of at all. More like afraid her heart was going to jump right out of her chest. She thrust her chin up defiantly. “I think I can manage.”
He lifted a hand and reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, then he leaned in close, so close she could feel the heat coming off his skin. So close she could smell him. Sawdust and sunshine. Her pulse shot up at least another half dozen beats when he whispered, “But I know secret places in this town that no one else knows about.”
She didn’t doubt it for a moment. Already he’d found a highly erogenous zone in her ear that she hadn’t even known existed. Enough, she told herself. You’re a scientist, not a pushover for a cocky slice of beefcake. She stepped back from him and folded her arms across her chest.
“You might want to save all this charm for the local girls, Mr. Walker. It’s totally wasted on me.”
“Liar,” he said.
“Unbelievable. You really think you’re irresistible, don’t you?”
He grinned and her stomach took a dive. “Well, aren’t I?” he asked.
“Watch, Mr. Walker,” she said. “This is me resisting.” She ducked under his arm, crossed the porch, walked down the stairs, and started up the street. She could hear his laughter all the way to the corner.
3
LAUGHING, DANNY WATCHED Hannah walk away. She had a determined stride on her—no surprise—and long legs. Too bad she dressed like a man. For a moment he wondered what might be underneath that severe black pantsuit but shook off the thought in a hurry. Hannah Ross had so much starch in her a man could get hurt if he got too close.
He sauntered down the steps and out to his pickup parked in the driveway. Windows down and the radio blasting something about broken hearts, Danny drove across town to Lukas McCoy’s freshly painted Victorian. He turned into the driveway and coasted around to the back where the old carriage house and stable was now home to Timber Bay Building and Restoration. He parked in front of the cumbersome double doors that his partner Lukas refused to replace. Never mind that the place housed a computer, a fax machine, and just about every power tool known to man. Lukas insisted on keeping the old doors for authenticity.
Danny got out of the truck and walked around to the side door that led to the office. Inside, Lukas sat at an old oak desk he’d restored, his fingers plunking away on the computer keys as he filled out an invoice.
“I thought you were going over to take some measurements at the church.”
“Just want to get these couple of invoices in the mail, Danny. We can use the cash.”
“Huh—no kidding.” Danny picked up a stack of mail from the desk and started to flick through it. Mostly bills. Bills needing that cash Lukas mentioned. “Any messages?”
“Not the one you want,” Lukas said.
Danny threw the mail back on the desk. “Damn, I hate this waiting. And if I know the dragon lady, she’s making us wait on purpose.”
“Take it easy, Danny. It’s only been two weeks since we sent the proposal to her lawyer. For all we know, the rumor that Agnes Sheridan wants to restore the old hotel isn’t even true.”
“That job would make all the difference to this company, Lukas. And if we don’t get it because of me—”
“Ancient history. Agnes Sheridan is a smart woman. We’re the best for the job and if she looks into it she’s going to know it.”
“If she looks into it.”
“Will you chill? Tell me about lunch. Did the cereal rep show?”
Danny grinned. “With a little help from me.”
Danny told Lukas about jumping on the hood of her station wagon and Lukas shook his head slowly. “Now that kind of behavior, Danny, is exactly the kind of stuff that always got you in trouble,” he said, but Danny could see the laughter in his partner’s eyes.
That’s how it had always been. Danny had been the one forever in a scrape and Lukas had always been the good guy, admonishing Danny’s antics but secretly admiring his guts. They’d been best friends since third grade when Lukas, who’d towered above Danny, rescued Danny’s jacket from the basketball hoop where some older bullies he’d messed with had tossed it. Lukas, at six foot four, still towered over Danny’s five foot ten. And he was still the good guy as far as Danny was concerned.
“I got a feeling that I’m going to be in a lot of trouble during the professor’s visit.”
“The professor?”
Danny shrugged a shoulder. “It suits her. She’s got ice in her veins and she likes to throw her master’s degree around. I don’t know how smart she could be, though, if she chose us to be on that box of cereal. Perfectly normal, we ain’t.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to head on over to the high school to have a look at those warped floors. Catch ya later.”
“Yeah, later,” Lukas said absently.
Danny left him to his hunting and pecking and headed back out to his pickup. He spent about an hour at the high school, taking measurements to replace warped floorboards in a few of the classrooms, then took a slow ride down Sheridan Road and pulled up in front of the old hotel that Agnes Sheridan still owned.
Man, he wanted that job so bad he could feel it in his skin. And not just for the money. He was tired of building kitchen cabinets and replacing floorboards. He wanted a challenge. Plus, a job like restoring the Sheridan Hotel would involve hiring sub-contractors and that would raise Timber Bay Building and Restoration to a whole new level. They were ready for it. They could do it. And if old lady Sheridan would meet with them, they could get that job. Danny just knew it.
If she’d meet with them.
An old restlessness started to stir and haunt. The kind of restlessness that always got him into trouble. He made a U-turn and started back down Sheridan Road with a vague idea of heading for the highway out of town. Sometimes, if he drove fast enough, he could outrun the restlessness. Then he saw her.
There was no mistaking that brisk, long stride or that ramrod-straight back. You’d think she was trying to balance that master’s degree on the top of her head. He grinned when he thought of the look on her face after her visit to the greenhouse. Something told him Hannah Ross wasn’t used to surprises. He chuckled. Wasn’t it his duty as a human being to help change that?
“Danny boy, I think it’s time to give back to your fellow man,” he murmured as he pulled over to the curb just ahead of her and waited until she was walking past the truck. Then he leaned over to the passenger window and gave a long, low whistle. The surprise on her face when she turned her head made her look like the teenager he was feeling like inside.
