Nanny by Christina Skye Page A

through high-powered microscopes. You two will become the next best thing to reality TV. They’re going to want to know if Tate snores and what you wear to bed.”
    â€œNo and no comment.”
    San Francisco’s youngest female assistant DA sat back sharply, knocking a clay pot with dried bougainvillaeas to the floor. As Cara stared at her daughter’s shattered gift, a first-grade Mother’s Day project, she felt a stab of sadness. She’d have to collect the pieces and glue them back together before Audra saw them. But not now, when she was already late for a meeting.
    â€œThanks for the warning, Tony. Tate and I are prepared for whatever gets thrown at us. And right now I’m late for a meeting with the M.E., so send over those papers. I’ll run through them tomorrow.”
    â€œWill do. You’re a tough negotiator, Ms. O’Connor.” Once again he hesitated. “I never meant that it was a bad idea, Cara. Just that you should be prepared for what comes next. The political process can be vicious, especially with what you’ve got on your plate from the Costello appeal.”
    â€œCostello won’t walk, no matter how many appeals he files. We had a clean conviction right down the line. As for the appeal, I don’t expect to be handed the easy assignments because I’m a woman.”
    â€œHell, Costello scared the shit out of me. Gender’s got nothing to do with it. Watch your step.” He blew out a breath. “And I’m hanging up now before I make an ass of myself.”
    The line went dead, and Cara sat back slowly. Richard Costello, her last high-profile case, was a poster boy for equal-opportunity sadism. He’d trafficked in human cargo through four border states and Canada. An eternal pragmatist, Costello smuggled whatever commodity had the highest value at the moment. Cocaine in, luxury cars out, Toyota car parts out and people in. He had made millions off the vast blood trails that flowed between Mexico, Central America, and the United States, and he had bribed, intimidated, or murdered all who stood in his way. At his peak, dozens of DEA and INS agents filled his payroll.
    According to rumor, a few of them still did.
    A very bad man.
    He had tried to bribe Cara half a dozen times during his trial. On the day of his sentencing, he had given her a new message: She would die and her skin would be hung up as a trophy in his house, payment for her involvement.
    Cara was used to death threats, but lately the thought of what Costello might do to her children left her paralyzed with fear.
    She tackled three more short calls, dictated a note to her assistant, and then sat back slowly. Sunlight glittered off the cars flooding Bryant Street. Even six floors up she could hear the angry scream of horns and braking tires.
    And she was late for her meeting. Why did she feel as if she were always running, always one step behind?
    Frowning, she knelt beside her desk and swept the broken pieces of clay into a padded envelope, determined to work a miracle repair before Audra realized her first-grade masterpiece was damaged. As Cara studied the mass of broken pieces, she considered canceling her evening plans so she could help smooth the transition when the new nanny arrived. Her presence would make things easier for everyone, since Audra and Sophy had been extremely upset when Cara had announced the sudden departure of their longtime nanny due to illness.
    At least that was the story they’d come up with for the girls and anyone else who asked.
    Her door opened. “The DA needs you right away.” Her assistant waved a folder. “Press leak on the Costello case. The details of his appeal have gone public, and we’re already fielding press calls about possible tainted forensic evidence.”
    Cara checked her watch in disbelief. “Impossible. We only heard from his counsel ten minutes ago.”
    â€œThat means it was public knowledge