Today's Reading
CHAPTER ONE
THAT WAS ODD.
As Lindsey Barnes guided her car up the long drive that led to her client's upscale house, she eased back on the gas pedal and surveyed the empty bay in the three-car garage. The spot where the female half of the power couple always parked.
If Heidi Robertson had gone out, why hadn't she closed the door?
Whatever the reason, her absence was welcome news. It should be simple to dash in and grab the knife roll she'd left yesterday, with no one the wiser.
Unless the other half of the couple was home.
But according to Heidi, James lived at the office. From what Lindsey had gleaned during her interview for the personal chef position four months ago, running a commercial real estate development firm was a 24/7 occupation.
So odds were this would be a quick in-and-out.
Nevertheless, she continued toward the concrete pad out of sight behind the garage, where the help parked. If her client happened to return during this brief visit, she wouldn't be happy to discover an out-of-place car. The lady of the house liked her instructions followed to a T—a lesson learned via a taut email after the new personal chef forgot to use the woman's preferred font on the heating instructions for each dish.
Rolling her eyes, Lindsey rounded the garage.
At least she didn't have to deal with Heidi beyond their menu planning emails. All she had to do was slip into the kitchen once a week, do her thing, and leave. Plus, the Robertsons paid their bill promptly—an important consideration if you were still establishing your business and cash flow was sometimes an issue.
Lindsey tucked her older-model Focus next to a pickup truck bearing the name Allen Construction.
Chad must be on the premises. Good for him. He deserved every plum job he could get after all the hardships he'd endured.
Lindsey set the brake, pulled out her phone, and called Heidi's number.
Like her first attempt more than thirty minutes ago, the call rolled to voicemail.
But Heidi had told her to let herself in whenever she came—and she needed those knives. Besides, the woman had assured her that neither of the Robertsons hung around in the kitchen.
After stowing her phone, she opened the door and slid from behind the wheel. The faint sound of contemporary music came from the vicinity of the pool house, the driving beat pulsing through the unseasonably cold early November air.
That must be Chad's work site for the day.
Shoving her hands into the pockets of the puffy, quilted coat that hit her midthigh, Lindsey lengthened her stride. The bright noontime sun hadn't put much of a dent in the St. Louis pre-winter chill, and after years in more temperate South Carolina, she was going to need longer than eighteen months to adjust to the harsher fall and winter temperatures here.
At the back door, she dug out her key, inserted it in the lock, and prepared to tap in the security code.
But the high-pitched beep, beep, beep that always sounded was absent as she twisted the knob and stepped inside.
Huh.
Was someone home after all?
She paused on the threshold. Listened. All was quiet.
Maybe Heidi had forgotten to activate the security system. Or she could have left it off, if Chad was scheduled to do a job in the house too.
No matter. All she had to do was grab her knife roll and make a fast exit.
...
