Make Me Melt. Karen Foley

her to catch her breath. They were clear and pure, caught somewhere between green and gray. In the late afternoon sunlight, they appeared bottomless, and Caroline had a sense that if she looked deeply enough, she might even see the secrets that he tried so hard to keep.

      “Hey,” he said, peering up at her. “Sure you’re okay?”

      She nodded and tried to pull herself together. “Yes, thanks. I’ve never actually keeled over before. Sorry about that.”

      He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s not an uncommon reaction, although it could have easily been avoided.” He arched one eyebrow in a look that clearly said he’d warned her. “Once the investigators are finished, I’ll send out a team to clean up.”

      “Hey, boss, everything okay?”

      Still on his haunches, Jason turned to look at his deputy. “Yeah, we’re good. I’m going to take Ms. Banks to the hotel and get her something to eat.” He shifted his attention back to Caroline. “Are you feeling up to a drive?”

      She didn’t think she’d ever eat again. The image of the bloodstained threshold haunted her. She stared at Jason with a growing sense of respect.

      “How do you do this?”

      He didn’t pretend to misunderstand, and his eyes softened fractionally. “By doing whatever it takes.”

      Before Caroline could respond, Deputy Black stepped toward the car, his entire body on full alert. Immediately, Jason rose to his feet, pushing her into the car and closing the door, before planting himself directly outside her window.

      One of the police officers quickly crossed the lawn toward them. “That’s Marisola Perez, the neighbor’s housekeeper. We’ve already cleared her.”

      Caroline peered through the window to see a woman walking down the driveway that bordered her father’s property. She looked to be in her forties, and she wore a simple cotton dress with an apron that reminded her of the uniforms worn by hotel maids.

      The woman clutched her purse and walked with her head down, clearly uncomfortable with the activity going on next door and the attention that was suddenly focused on her. When she reached the end of the driveway and turned onto the sidewalk, she cast one quick glance toward Jason and the car.

      “Have a good evening, ma’am,” Deputy Black said.

      She gave a jerky nod, and Caroline watched as Ms. Perez quickly crossed the road and climbed into an older model sedan, then drove away. Only when the car was out of sight did Jason and Deputy Black relax.

      “Freaking rich people,” the police officer said in a disparaging tone. “Every house on the street has a gardener, a housekeeper, a cook and a personal assistant. I guess when you have money, you lose the ability to do anything for yourself.” He shook his head in disgust. “Christ, there’s more hired help on this street than there are actual residents. Just questioning them is going to take us days.”

      There was an uncomfortable silence, and the officer suddenly became aware of Caroline sitting in the car, staring at him in astonishment through the open window.

      “Beg your pardon, ma’am,” he mumbled, and twin splotches of color appeared high on his cheeks.

      With an embarrassed glance at Jason, he turned and hurried back to the house. Jason and Deputy Black exchanged quiet words that Caroline couldn’t hear; then the deputy strode toward his own vehicle.

      Troubled by the man’s words, she looked around her at the houses on the street. Many of the nearby residents had come to stand on their front porches or lawns, drawn by the excessive number of police officers and news reporters. She knew from experience that this was a quiet neighborhood. Nothing exciting ever happened in Sea Cliff, unless it was a black-tie dinner party and the governor was invited. To have a prominent and respected member of the community gunned down on his own front steps was beyond shocking.

      As Caroline noted the residents who stood watching, she realized that what the police officer had said was true. She could easily spot the housekeepers and nannies who had come out to the street to watch, conspicuous because of their uniforms.

      She’d never considered it odd to have hired help while she was growing up. As a child, they’d had a live-in cook and a woman who came to the house twice a week to clean. There was a man who took care of the landscaping and another who took care of their swimming pool. Her father had an assistant who spent most of his time at the house. Even when William had been at work, Caroline had never been alone.

      But what must that kind of lifestyle look like to a guy whose career was in public service? Caroline didn’t blame the officer for what he’d said. From his perspective, it probably did appear that the residents of Sea Cliff were incapable of caring for themselves.

      After a moment, Jason came around to the driver’s side. He’d taken off his sports coat at the hospital, and he made no effort to hide his gun, which he wore in a shoulder holster. She wondered if he was sending a deliberate message to anyone who might be watching the house, or her. She admitted to finding this new Jason a little intimidating. He’d always been the strong, silent type, but combined with a don’t-mess-with-me attitude and a firearm, he was positively forbidding.

      He started the car and then turned in his seat to look at her. “I’m sorry about what that officer said. You shouldn’t have to listen to that. Everyone has the right to earn a living, and the people in this neighborhood provide good jobs and income for a lot of families. Sure you’re okay?”

      “Yes, I’m fine. And he has a right to his opinion. That woman—” She stopped, feeling foolish.

      Jason waited, expectant. “Yes?”

      “Your men interviewed her?”

      “Both the police and the FBI did, yes.”

      “I see. I was wondering...have they already interviewed my father’s housekeeper? And gardener? I mean, they’d have opportunity. They know his schedule, right? They know when he’s home alone.”

      “The police and the FBI have spoken with his housekeeper. Her name is Consuela Garcia, and she’s about seventy years old. She’s worked for your father for almost five years, and she has a rock-solid alibi for last night. He also has a gardener, who happens to be Consuela’s husband.” He paused. “They’re good people, Caroline. You don’t have to worry. They’d do anything for your father, and they’re devastated by what happened to him.”

      “Thank you. I’m sorry to sound so suspicious.” She flashed him an embarrassed smile. “I know this is what you do and that your men have everything under control. I guess I’m just feeling a little paranoid.”

      “That’s good. That means you’re on alert and you’ll be more aware of your surroundings. Once we get to the hotel, we’ll go through some safety guidelines.”

      * * *

      THE HOTEL WAS only blocks from the hospital, and Caroline wasn’t surprised to discover that Jason had sent one of his men ahead to register and retrieve the room key. The Fairmont was one of the most exclusive hotels in San Francisco, and their room was located in one of the luxurious towers. If they hadn’t just come from the scene of her father’s shooting, she might have thought Jason was being a little dramatic in how he carefully surveyed their surroundings as they made their way to the room. She found herself reassured, both by his vigilance and his strong, steady presence.

      Colton Black opened the door at Jason’s curt knock, and Caroline found herself ushered into the room. She looked around, more than a little surprised at the size of the suite. She’d expected a studio, with a small living area and kitchenette and an adjoining bedroom. The suite of rooms that Jason had reserved was enormous, with a spacious parlor area and two private bedrooms. There was a fireplace, flanked by deep bookshelves, and a wet bar. A telescope stood in front of the wraparound windows, and the furnishings were rich and lush. Caroline turned to stare wordlessly at Jason.

      He shrugged and walked across the room to the closest