Chapter 18

Forehead resting on a stack of papers on his desk and phone to his ear, Brady listened to the foreman on the courthouse project prattle on. And on.

When the guy finally pausedprobably for airBrady didn't bother lifting his head to speak into the receiver. "White. The crown molding is supposed to be white. Not ecru, not eggshell, not beige. White. That's what the plans say. All right?" He needed ten aspirin and another gallon of coffee. Stat. Though he'd gotten sporadic sleep last night, it wasn't the restful kind, and he was beginning to wonder if this wasn't National Piss Brady Off Day. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet. "I'll stop by after lunch if I can."

"Sure thing, Mr. Meath. I'll have..."

Brady sensed rather than heard another presence in his office and lost track of the conversation. The fine hairs on his neck stood erect and a slow burn churned in his gut.

Kaida. She was here.

He jerked his head up, and there she was, standing in front of his desk. Wearing tan leggings that