Gwenyth rolled her eyes and chuckled. “When last I left him, he was on his way over to our grandparents’ house. Apparently Granddad made some of his world famous chocolate chip cookies.”
Harry grinned. “Sam left your apartment for cookies?”
“Well, that and the fact that Granddad is helping him find us a house. Sam’s determined to purchase one and actually live in it before we leave for Boston.”
“That gives you five or six months. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Yeah. I suppose not.”
Harry eyed his sister curiously. Gwenyth had never showed up at his campaign headquarters before so he knew the reason for her arrival now could only mean something serious was bothering her. That she seemed in no hurry to broach the topic only added to his unease. “Gwen, what is it? Why are you here?” he inquired softly.
Gwenyth’s eyes widened, momentarily startled by her brother’s accurate appraisal of the situation. She smiled slowly, remembering that few people knew her as well as Harry did. “I have something to show you.”
Harry cocked an elegant brow, but waited in silence for her to continue. Gwenyth sighed deeply as she fished into her purse and pulled out the crumpled note that had been left for her at Vantry Sportswear’s front desk. After handing it to her brother, she waited until his eyes rounded with realization before adding, “between this and the baseball crashing through my front window, I’m beginning to wonder how seriously I should start taking these threats.”
“Damn.” Harry eyed the note speculatively as he plopped back down into his chair. “I don’t like this, Gwen. I don’t like it at all.” He raised his gaze from the threatening note and regarded his sister. “What did Sam say?”
“Sam?” Gwenyth shook her head. “Are you kidding? I didn’t tell Sam, Harry. He would go through the roof.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Before your election?” She eyed her brother knowingly.
Harry grimaced. “I see what you mean. He’ll probably do something crazy when he finds out.”
Gwenyth made an inelegant snort. “Probably? No, definitely. That’s why I’m not saying anything about it until you are already packing for D.C.”
Harry blew out a breath and ran his hands tersely through his tawny mane of hair. “I still don’t like the idea of keeping this a secret until after the election, Gwen. What kind of a brother do you take me for? You are way more important to me than a political career.”
Gwenyth smiled serenely. It was so like her brother to put everyone else’s concerns before his own. She sincerely hoped the voting populace realized what a terrific man he was. “It’s only another day, Harry.”
“Still, I want to turn this over to the detective working on your case right now. I won’t allow you to put something like this on the backburner, Gwen. Not even for me.” Harry reached for the telephone on top of his desk to make the call himself. He smiled at his sister while he waited for Detective Anderson to answer the line. “Though I do appreciate the gesture, Sis.”
* * * * *
Gwenyth dragged herself through her apartment door, wearier than she’d been in a long time. Between handing over the latest threatening note she’d received and reiterating everything that had happened the night of the NAM rally, as well as the night that the baseball had been hurled through her front window, the interview with Detective Anderson had labored on for the better part of two hours. “Sam? I’m home.”
Sam appeared almost instantly. Sporting a pair of jeans, a chef’s apron, and wielding a large spoon, he put his hands on his hips and glowered at his wife. “It’s about time, Gwen. I was worried, I’ll have you know.”
Gwenyth swallowed roughly as she took in the heady sight of Sam’s shirtless, muscled torso peeking out from behind the apron. Desire poured over her instantly. “I’m sorry, Sam. I should have called when I first realized I’d be running late.”
Sam grunted. “Where were you anyway?”
“At my brother’s campaign headquarters.” Gwenyth shed her jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. Noticing the stains smeared on Sam’s apron—proof that he’d been cooking—she realized how hungry she was. “What are we having for dinner?”
Sam’s cheeks stained a dull red. “The best I could come up with.”
Gwenyth wondered at her husband’s change in coloring, but said nothing of it. Shrugging mentally, she followed him into their apartment’s small dining room/kitchen and dropped sluggishly into her chair. “Harry’s really on edge about the election. Not that I can blame him.”
Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Can’t say I blame him either. I’d be a bundle of exposed nerves if I was him.”
Gwenyth winced. “Me too.” Her gaze remained fixed on Sam as he set a plate of food in front of her. “Your tux is pressed and ready for tomorrow night, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
“Good.” Gwenyth picked up her fork. “How did the house hunting go?”
Sam took his place at the table next to his wife and smiled bemusedly at her. “Willy’s a trip. He had a few hellacious suggestions I had to depose him of, but other than that we got a lot done. I want to take you to see three of our potential new homes once Harry’s election is over with.”
