Lost & found by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

please don't tell me that Cady Briggs is involved in this."
    "Cady has nothing at all to do with it."
    "Are you sure?"
    He shook his head, exasperated. "What makes you think Cady Briggs has got something to do with my decision to sell the house?"
    "I don't know. All I know is that you never mentioned the idea until today." She made a face.
    "Jeez, Dad, I can't believe you're acting like this because of a woman. Aren't you a little old for that kind of thing?"
    "What kind of thing?" he asked neutrally.
    Her cheeks turned a bright pink. "You know what I mean."

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    "No, I don't think I do."
    "Stop teasing me, Dad. This is too important. This is our home you're talking about."
    The sheen of moisture he thought he saw in her eyes worried him. He draped an arm around her shoulders.
    "Take it easy, sweetheart. I'm not going to rush into anything. I'll take my time. There are a lot of decisions to be made. Come on, let's go get some lunch."
    Later that afternoon he made the ninety-minute drive south with a very quiet Gabriella beside him. He deposited her safely at her dorm on the wooded campus of the University of California at Santa Cruz and got back into the car for the long trip home.
    It took him north again to San Francisco and across the Golden Gate Bridge, through the rolling hills of Marin County and beyond, into the green and gold of the Sonoma County landscape.
    He followed Highway 101 to the turnoff that led to the comfortable old house that, at some point during the past year, had become too big and too empty. He brought the car to a halt in the tree-lined drive and switched off the ignition.
    For a time he stayed where he was, hands resting on the steering wheel, and studied the home where he had watched his very smart, very lovely little girl grow up into a very smart, very lovely young woman.
    He was grateful to the old house. It had helped him raise Gabriella. It had sheltered them both after Rachel's death, and it had provided stability and a sense of security for a motherless girl. But it had done its job and now it held only old memories. As hard as he tried, he could not see himself going on much longer inside those high-ceilinged rooms. The door to the past was waiting for him to close it.
    Gabriella had guessed right. Something had happened on the last job. He had partially opened another door and caught a tantalizing glimpse of his own future.

Eleven
    It took him ten days of heavy-duty thinking, the sort of somber, serious contemplation that Gabriella would probably have mistaken for brooding—or, worse, depression—to concoct a plan.
    Granted, as plans went, it was pretty half-assed, he decided as he came to a halt in front of Cady's front door. But he was stuck with it, primarily because he had been unable to come up with anything more promising.
    Cady opened the door after he'd leaned on the bell for nearly a full minute. She was barefoot. Her dark hair was pulled back into a strict knot that emphasized her interesting features. She was dressed in tights and a leotard, and she had a sexy, stretchy little skirt like thing tied around her waist. All the clothing was stark black. He wondered if that was a bad omen.
    She stared at him for a few seconds with the expression of a woman who has just discovered an extraterrestrial on her front step.
    "I had to come down to Santa Barbara on business," he said into the awkward silence.
    "Happened to be in the
    neighborhood. Had your address in my files. Thought I'd take a chance and see if you were home."
    Thought I'd leap off this cliff because I had nothing better to do and I was going nuts trying to think of an excuse to see you again, he added silently.
    She blinked a couple of times, looking startled and somewhat confused. But not annoyed, he thought. That was a positive sign. He became aware of the music that was flowing down the hall behind her. Mozart.
    "You caught me by