Page 25 of Trap ’N’ Trace

Cowering in front of the open door were her personal staff and two of the Haven’s full-time employees. The police officer stood behind them on the front stoop. In all, six sets of human eyes were locked on Dayne, although none said a word. They didn’t have to. The implication was clear: They’d been having sex.

“Everything all right?” The cop looked at Dayne.

“We’re fine,” he snapped, and was he…blushing? “Remy, hier.”

The shepherd obediently sat at his side. The young officer turned, but not before she caught the smirk on his face.

Awk-ward. As much as she wanted to, courtesy dictated she not roll her eyes. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Kevin,” she said to the Haven’s assistant manager, “would you please close the door?” She waited until the door clicked shut. “I asked you all to come in early today because a lot’s happened that you need to be aware of. First, I’d like to introduce you to Special Agent Andrews. He’s with the FBI.”

Walter grunted, narrowing his dark eyes on Dayne. The look of disapproval on the grizzled man’s face was easy to read. Her groundskeeper was old school and a stickler for propriety.

“Seriously?” Kevin’s blond brows shot straight to his hairline. “And what’s with the cop outside? And the police tape blocking off the back rooms at the Haven?”

“Dayne, this is Kevin Acosta, the Haven’s assistant manager.” Dayne tipped his head in Kevin’s direction. “And Fiona, the Haven’s only other full-time staffer.” Now that Amy was dead. Her throat constricted. She could still barely think it, let alone say it.

“Fiona,” Dayne acknowledged the younger woman.

“Emily, you remember Special Agent Andrews from yesterday?”

“I do.” Her assistant grinned as she took in his bare chest. “Nice to, uh, see you again, Agent Andrews.”

Dayne’s jaw tightened.

As much as she willed herself not to, she grinned. Watching this badass federal agent feel the heat was too entertaining not to.

“This is Walter.” Kat looked nervously from the older man to Dayne. “Walter is my groundskeeper. He’s been with my family for over forty years.” Meaning he’d known her since birth. Since the day her parents died, Walter had insisted on meeting every one of her boyfriends. To vet them on behalf of her parents, he’d proclaimed. Not that Dayne was her date, or anything.

“Son.” Walter angled his head to look Dayne in the eye. “I sure do hope you have something else to wear besides those pants.”

“Yes, sir. I do.” She’d thought Dayne’s jaw was tight before. Now, it went harder than the kitchen’s granite counters.

Walter was testing Dayne’s mettle. To his credit, Dayne held fast, not flinching or looking away. Even she understood that if he did, the old groundskeeper would take it as a sign of weakness. Weak was a word she would never use to describe Dayne.

“And this is Francine.” She indicated the older woman who’d been a stand-in mother to her for the past twenty years. “My housekeeper and the best chef in the Hudson Valley.”

True to form, Francine walked right up to Dayne and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Special Agent.” A tiny smile curved her lips as she checked out his abs.

A corner of Dayne’s mouth lifted. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Everyone, let’s go into the kitchen and sit down for a few minutes.” Kat’s heart dipped at the prospect of notifying her staff that Amy had been murdered. Again, her throat choked with so much grief that she had to swallow repeatedly.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Dayne said, “I’ll get dressed.”

“Good idea.” Walter’s eyes narrowed to thin slits.

“Remy, hier.” Man, and dog, then disappeared down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Would anyone like coffee?” she asked as the people she now considered her family seated themselves on the counter stools. Given the news she was about to deliver, offering refreshment seemed so…ridiculous. But she needed something to do with her hands.

As one, they declined and watched her from somber faces. They knew her well enough to understand something bad was coming.

Kat stood at one end of the counter, uncertain of where to start. Blurting out that one of their own had been murdered seemed abrupt. “Dayne—Special Agent Andrews,” she corrected, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire regarding their relationship, which was strictly professional, “is staying here to protect me.”

“Protect you from what?” Kevin asked. “Emily called us all yesterday about you finding a dead body but said you were okay. We all saw it on TV last night. But why do you need protection?”

Kat hesitated. They needed to hear it, all of it, and not just for her protection but for theirs. In case the killer came back. “Last night, someone broke into the Haven.”

“Oh no.” Francine gasped. “Are the dogs all right?” Francine was a huge dog lover, second only to herself. That was one of the reasons they’d connected in the first place.