Page 84 of Fire Dancer

“Hi, Nancy. It’s Pippa. Sorry for the late notice, but I’d love to help with that catering job today.” I waited, then nodded smugly to Ingo. “Yes, exactly. The easy in-and-out job.” I waited again, then smiled into the phone. “Perfect. See you soon.”

Chapter Twenty-One

PIPPA

Hours later, I watched the gate at La Puebla slide open, admitting the catering crew — and me. Somehow, the motion pulled the plug on my confidence, which drained the moment we were through.

Make that, whirlpooled away with a dramatic slurp. Suddenly, Ingo’s worries didn’t seem like such exaggerations any more.

Security personnel. Vampires. Cold-blooded killers.

Shit, shit, shit.

Thank goodness for Nancy, who directed her helpers — Wendy, me, and two guys from the staff at La Puebla — in unloading supplies with her usual efficiency.

“Start with the drinks, please. Those four crates need to go straight to the fridge, and those four can stay on the floor in the kitchen.”

Every time I shuttled between the van and the kitchen, I eyed the landscape beyond the fence. Somewhere out there, Ingo was stalking around — in wolf form? Human? I wasn’t sure. He’d packed enough equipment for an entire commando force before setting off, though I had a hunch he relied more on raw animal instincts than technology. I sniffed the air, not that I had a chance of locating him. He would be downwind, for one thing, and blended in with the scenery.

Back and forth I went, van to kitchen, then kitchen to living room, where Nancy had me stack plates, silverware, and napkins on a table. I did so, then held a knife up to the light, checking for any blemishes. Then a fork, and so on. In between, I slid a hand into my pocket, pulled out the nanny cam Ingo had given me, and set it quickly on a shelf. It was already programmed with the Wi-Fi password, so it ought to be transmitting to Ingo.

I raised another knife, checking the camera angle out of the corner of my eye, then decided to declare my mission accomplished.

Wow. I was practically a secret agent now.

I even went in search of a bathroom and “accidentally” detoured toward Victor’s office next. But when footsteps sounded down the hallway, I lost my nerve and scurried back to the kitchen.

Okay, maybe not that great a secret agent.

I was so frazzled, I genuinely lost my way back to the kitchen, opening the door to a utility closet instead. I closed it just as quickly, then froze, thinking.

I looked left. Right. The coast was clear, but my heart was hammering.

The utility closet door squeaked when I opened it for the second time. I stared at the conveniently labeled circuit breakers there, including one markedsprinkler system.

Click.

I flipped it. Because, well…you never knew.

And, yikes. I could now addsaboteurto my résumé too.

Then I shot out of there, wincing in anticipation of alarms going off.

They didn’t, but my pulse still hadn’t dropped when I entered the kitchen. Especially not when I spotted the butler talking to Nancy.

I skidded into a sharp turn and stepped into the walk-in cooler before he spotted me. I could explain myself readily enough if anyone recognized me from my previous visit — after all, I really did moonlight for Nancy’s catering company — but ideally, I would prefer to stay off the radar.

I snorted. Ideally, Ingo would have La Puebla surrounded by dozens of secret agents, and I would be miles away. Ideally, Stacy would have lived to see this day and many, many more.

I took a deep breath and worked my determination back into place like a bad hairdo. It didn’t sit well, but I would have to live with it. Because right now, I needed evidence. Fast.

But, shoot. How likely was I to find that in a walk-in cooler?

My skin prickled the moment I entered the cold, dim space. Wendy was already there, rubbing her arms against the temperature.

“God, it’s freezing in here,” she complained. “And the sticky notes aren’t sticking.”

One fluttered off a tray of hors d’oeuvres as I walked by, and I chased it around like a butterfly.