"Mom, who was close enough to Dad that might have given information to the FBI?"

"No one."

Sarah ignored the stony coldness of the answer. "Just give me a chance. I don't want to scare you, but people have been following me. There's been some trouble with some of my food. It isn't that I want to pry into the past, I have to do this. And I need your help."

"Come home, Sarah."

"I can't." Sarah's smile was sad. "It isn't in my blood to run. And I'm going to solve this thing. It would sure be a lot easier if you'd tell me a little about what happened."

Mora's sigh spoke of her capitulation. "No one was closer to your father than Graham Estis."

"The deputy?"

"Cal's right-hand man. I haven't seen him in ten years, but he's living down in Ocean Springs. He's working as a deputy in the Jackson County sheriff's office." There was a pause. "Graham loved your father. He would never have done anything to hurt him."

"Maybe not intentionally."

"Well, if you're going to poke around in this, Graham is a good place to start. He can at least put you on the right track."

"Thanks, Mom." Sarah gripped the phone tighter. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too, Sarah. You just be careful. And bring that man down here for me to inspect.

If you say he's helping you, I have to try and take it on faith. But I'd like a good look at him."

"We'll be down, maybe before you know it."

"'Bye, honey."

Sarah replaced the receiver and wiped the tears from her cheeks. How had so much time and distance gotten between her and her mother? It had always been the past, there between them, pushing them apart. And today, they'd taken a big step in moving a lot closer together.

"Sarah?" Daniel stood in the doorway. "Sarah, I'm sorry about that scene with... Is something wrong?"

Her anger had been washed away by her tears. The scene at the boat house was forgotten as she looked at Daniel and remembered how supportive he'd been. How much he'd risked on her behalf. She gave him a tentative smile. "I'll talk to Jean-Claude later. He's as much to blame as you. Maybe more."

"He made it sound like you just-"

"I can defend my own honor, but thanks. It's odd to me that Jean-Claude would be so upset." She motioned him to sit beside her. "But I'll deal with him later. I spoke with Mom. She told me something that may help us."

He smiled back, catching the hint of excitement from her. "What?"

"Graham Estis, my father's deputy. He was always up at the sheriff's office and helping Dad with things. They were close, and if there was anything to tell, Dad might have told him."

"Maybe we should take a little trip down South." "I checked the flights. We can book one out of Washington tonight." "Let's pack up and head that way."

THANK GOODNESS we're getting out of here. There's something about this place that gives me a bad feeling. And a few questions that need solid answers. Like, who would break into a boat house, leave all kinds of expensive tools and equipment, and steal an old hat?

It looked like Jean-Claude out on the porch, but I couldn't be certain. Why would Jean-Claude come out here to sit on the porch and then attack Daniel? That's no way to win a lady's heart. This entire case doesn't add up.

I keep going back to Socks and his reasons for hiring me. He wanted to prove that Sarah was not involved in anything. Correct me if I'm wrong, but national security is the province of the Secret Service. So Socks calls me in, and the Secret Service calls in Daniel Dubonet.

I've never worked with the feds before, but I know how jealous they are of their turf. Why would the Secret Service call in an agent from the FBI to watch a chef?

I've begun to believe that maybe it's Daniel who's being set up, and that Sarah is a p.a.w.n in the game. To be completely honest, I'm stumped on this case. Maybe when we get back to D. C. I can sneak over to the White House and see what the First Cat has gleaned. I also need to make an appearance at home. Magdelene has probably called the kitty pound looking for me. She'll be frantic and completely unreasonable. Oh, well, it's a small price to pay to be so loved.

IT WAS ONLY two o'clock, but Sarah felt as if each minute that ticked by was an opportunity lost. They were almost home, with Daniel following right behind them in his car. Familiar sat beside her on the front seat, and even he was tense. Disdaining any attempts Sarah made to comfort him, Familiar sat with his paws on either the seatback or the window and perused the traffic. He acted as if he were looking for something, or someone.

"You're not making this any easier, cat," she offered.

"Meow." Familiar continued to stare out the windshield, head moving slowly as he took in all oncoming traffic as they made the turn onto the street that led to Sarah's.

"Good grief." Sarah slapped her forehead. "I've got Lucinda's big party to cater. I can't go to Mississippi!"

Familiar turned his green gaze on her as if to say that he knew that already. His intense eyes watched her a moment before he returned to his vigil.

Pulling into the alley, Sarah silently cursed her forgetfulness and her stupidity. Daniel would be determined to go to Biloxi alone. And that was the worst thing he could do. Mora would be terrified of another agent-even a fired one-prying into the past. She had to convince him to stay in Washington. Until she was free to travel with him. She could cancel the party, but that would be a real slap in Uncle Vince's face. No, she had to cater the event, and she had to convince Daniel to wait for her.

Inside the shop she put on a pot of coffee and pulled out her cookbooks. She was about to broach the subject of Lucinda's party when the telephone rang. Picking it up on the second ring, she was surprised by the deep voice that asked for Daniel Dubonet. With eyebrows raised, she pa.s.sed the telephone to Daniel.

"What do you want?"

Sarah was surprised by the anger in Daniel's voice, and the way he half turned from her to hide his scowl.

"I'm not exactly feeling that I owe the Bureau anything," Daniel said carefully, "but I'll think about it. Maybe we could trade. The information you want for some facts about Cody's murder." A tight smile touched his features. "Think about it, Gottard. I'll be in touch." He replaced the receiver and turned back to Sarah.

She saw the anger burning in his eyes, and she knew him well enough now to let him take his time. Opening one of the cookbooks, she blindly scanned the page.

"That was Paul Gottard, my superior in the Bureau. He wanted me to come in and talk with him."

"About what?" Sarah knew, but she wanted to give Daniel a chance to talk about it.

"He wants to know about you. What I've discovered about you. Who your friends are. How you snagged such high-profile political contracts with your business. Those kinds of things."

"Things he could easily obtain by asking me," Sarah noted.

"Don't think I haven't thought of that."

"What are you going to do?"

Daniel sat down at the table, his hand going automatically to his thick hair and tugging gently. "This is something we should talk about."

Sarah got two cups and poured the coffee before she took a seat beside him. She reached out and touched his arm, stroking the skin with a gentle pressure. "The fact that you want to talk about it with me tells me a lot I needed to know."

"You said it last night. We're in this together. Now everyone else is a suspect. We have only ourselves to rely on." He looked around the room. "And that blasted cat, wherever he got off to. At any rate, we have to decide what to do."

"Talk to him. I have nothing to hide. Every job I've ever gotten has been one I've worked for. There's nothing in my past I'm ashamed of. So talk to him. See what he believes is the truth."

Daniel lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm. "You trust me enough to let me do that?"

"I do." She curled her fingers inside the strength of his. "And I have something I need to do." She quickly explained about Lucinda's party.

"I think it's imperative that you cater it," he agreed. "And I intend to be there, too."

She looked into his eyes, knowing that she could never dissuade him-and that she didn't want to.

"This may be the best plan. We can travel to Biloxi in a couple of days. That will actually give me some time to call a few people. Even though I don't have a badge, I still have friends. Since Graham Estis is in law enforcement, I can pull a few strings and get some information on him. And I can keep an eye on things at Lucinda's party. If someone is trying to ruin you, that's going to be the place to do it."

Sarah felt a chill run through her, and she couldn't help the fact that her hand clenched in his. "I don't want to be ruined. I don't want anyone to be hurt."

"Neither do I." He opened her fingers, then linked them with his. "I'll go down to the Bureau this afternoon."

"To tell your boss what you know about me?" She was half teasing.

"To tell him everything I know about you-that you're more than decent. That someone is framing you for something. And that Joshua Jenkins might have been on the wrong track."

Sarah couldn't stop herself from leaning across the table to kiss him. It was a vice, like tasting the chocolate filling for an eclair. One tiny little taste was never enough, but it was all she could have right now.

Daniel felt her pull back from the kiss. It would be so much easier to scoop her into his arms and carry her up the stairs to her apartment. So easy and so right. But that wasn't how they were going to play this hand.

"I want to make some calls, then I'm out of here," he said.

"Go ahead. I have to run some errands. If I'm going to prepare these dishes, I have to get some ingredients."

Daniel stood and pulled her to him. His hands moved up and down her slender back, caressing each muscle and curve. "When I get back, will you put on that s.e.xy chef uniform for me?'' he asked. His eyes danced with mischief.

"Only if your weapon is loaded and you let me pull the trigger," she answered, biting his lower lip gently.

"And I thought you were a modest Southern girl."

"I am." She laughed. "But I also know how to talk dirty."

"I see that you do." He kissed her again, this time taking her breath away with the intensity. When he finally released her, they were both breathing in short and shallow gasps.

"I'll be back in three hours," he said, picking up his keys.

"I'll be here," she promised. "I'll be covered in food, but I'll be here."

DANIEL WAITED outside Paul Gottard's office, feeling as if every pair of eyes around were watching. His pride suffered at the idea of being fired, and his sense of fair play was outraged.

"Mr. Gottard will see you now."

Daniel smiled at Cindy, the secretary he'd known for the past year. She gave him a look br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sympathy. "I've only been accused, Cindy, I haven't been convicted," he said softly as he pa.s.sed by her. When he looked back, he could see she was blushing.

"Daniel." Paul waved him into a chair. "I was beginning to wonder if we'd ever see you again."

"I didn't know if it was safe to come here," Daniel countered, glad to see the surprise that pa.s.sed briefly over Gottard's stony features.

"Are you implying that someone from this agency has tried to harm you?"

"Save the bl.u.s.ter. I'm saying outright that someone, very possibly with Bureau connections, injured me, stole my weapon and badge and abducted me. Can I make it any plainer than that?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

Daniel could see that Gottard was furious, but he wasn't a smidgen madder than Daniel felt.

"You wanted to know about Sarah Covington. Well, from everything I can detect, she's an excellent chef."

"And how did you come to that brilliant conclusion?" Gottard's eyes were hard.

"I think it was the potato salad."

Gottard leaned forward in his chair. A tiny muscle ticked for several beats beneath his right eye. "This isn't a game, Daniel. I didn't call you here to give you an opportunity to exercise your wit or vent your spleen. You're in trouble. Very serious trouble. The only reason murder charges haven't been filed against you is because of me. So let's stop this d.a.m.n silliness and talk."

Daniel had often admired Paul Gottard's strategies, and his ability to hide his emotions. Now he saw how ruthlessly the man could cut to the bone of an issue. And he admired that. "Okay." He dropped the smug tone of voice. "I checked Sarah Covington thoroughly. She is exactly what she appears to be. Nothing more, nothing less."

"What about her past? Has she spoken of it?"

Daniel nodded. "Extensively. She was only a child when her father died, but she believes he was falsely accused-and pursued. Hounded is the word she used, I believe."

"We've checked her finances. Except for some small amounts of unexplained cash, she's made her own way. There were no windfalls."

Daniel's smile was humorless. "It was a false trail."

"It would seem so." Gottard leaned back in his chair and let his vision drift to a watercolor on the wall. It showed a front porch with a magnolia tree in bloom and a view of water. "That's the Biloxi beachfront," he said. "Before the casinos went in. It was a lovely, simple community."

"All things change." Daniel had no idea where Gottard was heading. His boss seldom made it a habit to reminisce in front of agents, or if he did, Daniel had never known about it.

"Cody was a loss to us."

"And to me." Daniel tried to see behind the faraway look, but he could tell nothing. He felt his hands clench the arms of the chair. Gottard was a tricky man.

"You know he was shot."

"I know." Daniel had seen the wound and knew that there was nothing he could do to help his friend.

"With your weapon, Daniel."

At first Daniel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Gottard's gaze was like a magnifying gla.s.s, inspecting him for any clue. "I told you my gun and my badge were taken when I was abducted from the Bingingtons'."

"We have no proof of that." Gottard's a.s.sessment was brutal.

"I called and reported it."

"That doesn't make it true."

Daniel felt the inclination to slug Gottard. Only years of practice checked his temper.

"Daniel, I'm giving you the facts. As many people would interpret them."