“What guy?” Austin gritted his teeth, annoyed as hell. Worse, he was annoyed that he was annoyed.
“He was gone when I went back to find him,” Decker told him. “She gets her share of attention. This guy just mustered up the guts to approach her.”
“Seis, siete, ocho, nueve, diez, veinte, treinta…” Bella sat at his feet where he’d stopped on the stairs to take Decker’s call. Everly had clearly been teaching Bella to count in Spanish beyond the first five numbers she already knew. He was sure that had been noted on her daily reports, but he’d been so distracted, he usually skimmed them.
“Have you ever seen him before?” he asked.
“No,” Decker told him. When Austin didn’t immediately reply, he asked, “What are you thinking?”
He was thinking his emotions were overriding logic. Irrational emotions. Absurd, unwarranted, erratic emotions. He was thinking he was an idiot for being both jealous and suspicious. He was thinking the best thing for him would be to let her go.
“Cuarenta, cincuenta, sesenta…”
But it wouldn’t be the best thing for Bella. He’d seen a definite change in his daughter since Everly had been with her. Bella was more focused, sat still longer, didn’t interrupt as much, and slept better, among other things. Today, she was following him like a tail, which made him realize how free he’d felt since Everly had taken over Bella’s care. Free to work, free to think, free from guilt. At least guilt about his time away from Bella. But now he had a new guilt—lusting after the nanny.
The nanny, for God’s sake.
“I’m just looking for ghosts,” he admitted. “If you see him again, get his story, would you?”
“Will do. She’s on her way back to the house. Oh, I got a call from the neighbors a few minutes ago,” Decker added. “They trapped Kujo last night. They’re relocating him in the mountains.”
That news brought a sliver of relief. The thought of a predator like that so close to his morsel-sized daughter was always in the back of his mind. “Fantastic.”
Just as they disconnected, another call came through—from Cooper, the guard on the ground in Africa. Austin answered, desperate for something to snap Everly Callaway out of the realm of fucking sainthood.
“Coop,” he answered. “What have you got?”
“Her mother’s not dead,” he answered immediately. “I’ve spoken with the US embassy here and searched all the death records in both Kenya and the US. There’s no sign of a Gwen Callaway passing away in the last year in either location.”
There was the first lie. The first thread. The rest would unravel from there. “Is Gwen Callaway even real?”
“I’m checking into it. The rest of Everly’s information is coming up spick-and-span.”
Why would she lie about her mother?
The front door opened. Bella stopped counting in Spanish and gasped. Grabbing his pant leg, she craned her neck to see down and into the foyer.
“Everyee!” She’d managed to get all the syllables into Everly’s name, but was still using the y for an l. Bella jumped to her feet and raced down the stairs.
“I’ll try to get some answers on my end too.” He disconnected with renewed irritation.
“Hi, monkey. Having fun with Daddy?” Everly smiled down at Bella and ran a hand over her hair. The tender gesture and her use of Austin’s nickname for Bella created an intimacy that tugged inside him.
“Yeah.” She pulled at Everly’s hands. “Go swimming wif us?”
“Yes,” Everly corrected. “Will you go swimming with us?”
“Will you go swimming wif us,” she echoed, but still missed the “th” sound.
“Not right now,” Everly answered. “But thank you for asking.”
Bella peeked into the bags, tugging at the plastic. “What you have?”
Everly pulled the bags out of reach. “What do you have?”
“What do you have?”
“Perfect.” She tapped Bella’s nose. “I have presents.”