Chapter 4

      It has to be here, Debra thought frantically as she searched the area on top of her desk. The early morning sun drifted through the office window, letting her know it was getting later and later.

      She moved file folders and papers helter-skelter, her heart pounding in her ears as she looked for the missing paperwork. It had to be here, it just had to be.

      She distinctly remembered putting the guest list that Trey had given her next to her computer the night before, but it wasn’t there now.

      She was already dressed to go to work and had come into the office to grab the list before leaving her place. In a panic she now fell to her hands and knees in the plush carpeting, searching on the floor, hoping that it had somehow drifted off the desk, but it wasn’t there, either.

      She checked the wastebasket to make sure it hadn’t fallen into it somehow during the night. Nothing. No list magically appeared.

      Half-breathless from her anxious search, she sank down at her desk chair. Think, she commanded herself. After she’d placed it on the desk the night before had she come back in here for any reason and mindlessly placed it elsewhere?

      No, she was certain she hadn’t reentered the office again last night. After Trey had left she’d watched a little television and then had gone upstairs to bed. She had not come back into the office.

      Was it possible she had sleepwalked and moved the list?

      She couldn’t imagine such a thing. As far as she knew she’d never sleepwalked in her life. Besides, she would have had to maneuver herself not just out of her bed, but also down the stairs and into the office all the while being unconscious in sleep.

      Impossible. Utterly ridiculous to even entertain such an idea, but the darned list didn’t get up and walk away on its own.

      Granted, she’d been unsettled after Trey had left. Maybe she had wandered in here and taken the list someplace else in the house before she’d gone to bed.

      With this thought in mind, she jumped out of the chair and raced through the lower level of the house. Her heart pounded in an unsteady rhythm as she checked the kitchen counters, the living-room coffee table and any reasonable place she might have put the list, but it was nowhere to be found.

      The thought of calling Trey and asking him for another copy horrified her. She was organized and efficient. She didn’t lose things. So how had she lost such an important piece of paper?

      After a run-through of the entire house yielded no results, she finally returned to the kitchen, defeated and knowing she needed to get on the road or she’d definitely be late to work.

      She hurried to the refrigerator and opened the freezer to take out a small package of chicken breasts to thaw for dinner and stared at the piece of paper that was slid between them and a frozen pizza.

      She grabbed the paper, saw that it was the missing list and hugged it tight to her chest in relief. Hurriedly yanking out the chicken breasts, she set them in the fridge and then raced for the front door, grabbing her purse and coat on the way out.

      As she waited for her car to warm up, she folded the guest list and tucked it into her purse, then pulled her coat around her shoulders. She tried to ignore the rapid beating of her heart that still continued, the frantic beat that had begun the moment she’d realized the list was missing.

      Heading toward the Winston Estate, she wondered if somehow between last night and this morning her brain had slipped a cog. Had she been so flustered by Trey’s visit that she’d mindlessly placed the list in the freezer?

      It was crazy. It was insane, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was the only person in the house who could have put the list in the freezer.

      Maybe it had something to do with hormones. She had called her doctor to make an appointment for the weekend. Was it possible that pregnancy hormones made you lose your mind? She’d be sure and ask her doctor.

      As if to make the day worse, Jerry Cahill was on guard duty as she pulled into the side entrance. The tall, sandy-haired Secret Service man gave her the creeps. He seemed to have some sort of a weird crush on her and had asked her out twice. Both times she’d politely declined but one time last month she’d thought she’d seen him standing on the sidewalk in front of her place and staring at her townhouse.

      He stopped her car before she could pull into her usual parking space and motioned for her to roll down her window. “Hey, doll, running a little late this morning, aren’t you?” He leaned too far into her window, invading her personal space.

      “Maybe just a few minutes,” she replied.

      Jerry had hazel eyes that should have been warm in hue, but instead reminded her of an untamed jungle animal that could spring at a vulnerable throat at any moment.

      His breath smelled of peppermint and the fact that he was close enough to smell his breath freaked her out just a little bit.

      He held her gaze for a long moment and then stepped back and tapped the top of her car. “Well, I just wanted to tell you to have a good day.”

      She rolled up her window and parked her car, feeling revulsion just from the brief encounter. Jerry Cahill might be a Secret Service agent, but that didn’t make him any less of a creep.

      She hurried into the house to find Maddie Fitzgerald, head housekeeper, and Myra Henry, head cook, seated at the small table enjoying a cup of coffee together.

      “Good morning, Ms. Debra,” Maddie said. Her plump cheeks danced upward with her smile. With red hair cut in a no-nonsense style and her perpetual optimism, Maddie had been