Grace Interrupted Read Online Free Page A

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    “There he is,” Pierpont said, interrupting my reverie and picking up his pace. “Kincade!”
    Zachary Kincade leaned against a stone wall, chatting up one of our female groundskeepers. A youngster, barely twenty-two, she looked relieved to see us. The moment Kincade’s attention was pulled by Pierpont’s call, she waved to me and scurried off to tend to a distant flower bed.
    Kincade ambled over. “I’m sorry about the trouble back there,” he said, indicating the mansion with a dispassionate glance.
    “I thought you’d be down at the police station, giving a statement,” I said.
    “Not pressing charges,” he said. “What’s the point? They had their fun and have been escorted off the grounds by your efficient security team. I’m not worried. Those girls don’t have the guts to try again.”
    I wasn’t so sure, and said so.
    Kincade smiled. “I appreciate you worrying about me. But I’m a big boy.” He held out his hand. “And you are? You have me at a distinct disadvantage here.”
    Pierpont gave an exasperated sigh. “This is Grace Wheaton. She’s in charge. She’s the one to contact if we need anything.”
    Kincade and I shook hands. “Nice to meet you,” he said.
    Pure reflex and good manners combined to make me smile and say how nice it was to meet him, too. But when I got my hand back, I resisted the urge to wipe it down the side of my skirt.
    “In charge?” Kincade said, eyes brightening. “So much power in such a lovely package.”
    What era was this guy from? “Let me arrange for transportation back to your camp,” I said, calling into my radio for a shuttle to be brought around back. The estate provided free transportation between the hotel and the manor, and between the manor and a remote parking lot. We’d recently expanded that lot to accommodate visitors whose numbers we expected—and hoped—to grow over the next several years.
    Part of my job was to boost our image, increase tourism, and establish the Marshfield brand. No small feat—any of them. But before we could expect hundreds of thousands of new tourists to flock to our doors each year, we needed to make certain we had infrastructure issues settled first. Parking lots and shuttles weren’t sexy upgrades, but they were important pieces of the whole. Fortunately my boss, Bennett, owner of this palatial estate, agreed with me. Just wait until he heard about today’s excitement.
    Kincade had to be almost fifteen years older than I was, but as he moved in closer I caught the smolder of interest in his eyes. Ugh. He reached again for my hand. “I hope you’re planning to visit our camp,” he said in a low voice. “I’d love for you to see me in action during one of our battles.”
    I yanked my hand back. “Thanks, but I think I’ve had enough of your battles for one day.”
    “Ooh,” he said, making his lips all pucker-y. Moving close enough for me to see the yellow flecks in his brown irises, he curled his mouth into what he probably thought was a provocative smile. This treatment might work on a lot of women, but I wasn’t one of them. Not any longer at least. “You don’t really believe what those ladies said, do you?” he asked softly. “No one really understands me, you know? I try to be a good guy but all I ever get . . .”
    His attention shifted to just over my shoulder. For a split second, I wondered if it was a ruse just to get me to drop my guard and turn, but Kincade’s body language suddenly shifted, too. No longer relaxed, no longer focused on me, his posture grew rigid and his eyes wide. He whispered under his breath, “How the . . . ?”
    I turned to see what had grabbed his attention. Jack and Davey were about twenty feet back, headed toward us. Jack was in the lead, carrying a clipboard. He saw me. “There you are,” he called, waving hello with his free hand. Davey followed, a couple steps behind him.
    I felt a rush of air as Zachary Kincade bolted past me. He took Davey down in