hoped it wasn’t a lie.
He stepped back up to the desk. “This came over the landline?”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to check the caller ID?”
“Please.” He showed Victoria the note while he tried to formulate a reply. When the clerk reported the name of a motel just west of Denver, he asked them to return the call.
Lucas waited while the woman made the call and related his response, which consisted of no more than a time and his cell phone number; then he thanked her again.
Victoria was still pondering the strange message: Whelan arrived four weeks ago ready to party. May attend with a date and a gift.
“Sounds ominous. Should Cecelia adjust the seating chart?” she offered with a smile that held no amusement.
“That won’t be necessary.” Shaking his head, he pocketed the note as he guided her back to the elevator and the party. So many things in their line of work required privacy.
Until his last breath, he would strive to do everything in his power to protect Victoria from harm or distress. Not because she couldn’t handle a crisis—she was beyond capable—but because she’d handled so many on her own through the years.
This time when the elevator doors closed, there was no embrace, just the flash of her eyes, so perceptive. “What should I know?”
“It would seem trouble is on the way.” He leaned on his cane, debating the options.
“Do you know who this Whelan is?”
“Not personally.” She sent him a questioning look. “He’s known as an explosives expert and there was an incident this afternoon at the airport. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“What are you contemplating?”
“Not knowing who sent the message, it’s hard to know just what I’m to do with the information.”
“Why didn’t you ask?” She handed him the note. “Is there a chance it was sent by this Whelan person himself?”
“No, this was sent from a Specialist.”
Her gaze narrowed and he knew they were both wondering what business brought a Specialist to Denver, but not to the wedding. “Who?”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “You aren’t going to sit back and wait.”
He dropped a light kiss on her lips. “Would you? I’ll talk to a few of the guests who can set up a watch and double-check the staff background. If this criminal is out to hurt Thomas or Casey or otherwise ruin her wedding day, he’s in for a significant surprise.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Any chance you’ll let someone else head up the ‘surprise’?” she asked as they exited the elevator.
“I suppose I have to.” He feigned an innocent expression. “We’re semi-retired.”
Just as he’d hoped, she smiled as they walked back into the party.
Chapter Eleven
11:30 p.m.
Thomas tried to get comfortable on the couch in front of the fire, but he couldn’t stop kicking himself. Being tired and frustrated didn’t excuse how poorly he was coping with this situation. Personally or professionally.
Jo didn’t deserve the brunt of his anger and frustration. None of the many rationalizations rolling through his brain would be enough to mend the rift he’d created. Only a sincere apology would work. Or the truth.
He wasn’t ready to face that yet.
The truth was muddied up with his feelings, floating somewhere in the murky space between the past and the present. Johara DeRossi was special. Just thinking it, he recognized the words as an extreme understatement. He might have pushed her away for her own good way back then, but it felt like a monumental mistake now.
“Hindsight,” he muttered, gathering the quilt Jo had been using. Looking back with the benefit of experience he might well have done things differently where she was concerned. Now it was too late. Wasn’t it?
He distracted himself with speculation about the wedding party. Cecelia and Casey had booked the entire resort for several days. It had been a smart choice, considering the bride-to-be was CIA and the groom a Colby
He stepped back up to the desk. “This came over the landline?”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to check the caller ID?”
“Please.” He showed Victoria the note while he tried to formulate a reply. When the clerk reported the name of a motel just west of Denver, he asked them to return the call.
Lucas waited while the woman made the call and related his response, which consisted of no more than a time and his cell phone number; then he thanked her again.
Victoria was still pondering the strange message: Whelan arrived four weeks ago ready to party. May attend with a date and a gift.
“Sounds ominous. Should Cecelia adjust the seating chart?” she offered with a smile that held no amusement.
“That won’t be necessary.” Shaking his head, he pocketed the note as he guided her back to the elevator and the party. So many things in their line of work required privacy.
Until his last breath, he would strive to do everything in his power to protect Victoria from harm or distress. Not because she couldn’t handle a crisis—she was beyond capable—but because she’d handled so many on her own through the years.
This time when the elevator doors closed, there was no embrace, just the flash of her eyes, so perceptive. “What should I know?”
“It would seem trouble is on the way.” He leaned on his cane, debating the options.
“Do you know who this Whelan is?”
“Not personally.” She sent him a questioning look. “He’s known as an explosives expert and there was an incident this afternoon at the airport. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“What are you contemplating?”
“Not knowing who sent the message, it’s hard to know just what I’m to do with the information.”
“Why didn’t you ask?” She handed him the note. “Is there a chance it was sent by this Whelan person himself?”
“No, this was sent from a Specialist.”
Her gaze narrowed and he knew they were both wondering what business brought a Specialist to Denver, but not to the wedding. “Who?”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “You aren’t going to sit back and wait.”
He dropped a light kiss on her lips. “Would you? I’ll talk to a few of the guests who can set up a watch and double-check the staff background. If this criminal is out to hurt Thomas or Casey or otherwise ruin her wedding day, he’s in for a significant surprise.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Any chance you’ll let someone else head up the ‘surprise’?” she asked as they exited the elevator.
“I suppose I have to.” He feigned an innocent expression. “We’re semi-retired.”
Just as he’d hoped, she smiled as they walked back into the party.
Chapter Eleven
11:30 p.m.
Thomas tried to get comfortable on the couch in front of the fire, but he couldn’t stop kicking himself. Being tired and frustrated didn’t excuse how poorly he was coping with this situation. Personally or professionally.
Jo didn’t deserve the brunt of his anger and frustration. None of the many rationalizations rolling through his brain would be enough to mend the rift he’d created. Only a sincere apology would work. Or the truth.
He wasn’t ready to face that yet.
The truth was muddied up with his feelings, floating somewhere in the murky space between the past and the present. Johara DeRossi was special. Just thinking it, he recognized the words as an extreme understatement. He might have pushed her away for her own good way back then, but it felt like a monumental mistake now.
“Hindsight,” he muttered, gathering the quilt Jo had been using. Looking back with the benefit of experience he might well have done things differently where she was concerned. Now it was too late. Wasn’t it?
He distracted himself with speculation about the wedding party. Cecelia and Casey had booked the entire resort for several days. It had been a smart choice, considering the bride-to-be was CIA and the groom a Colby
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