followed for several days. If someone had wanted her dead, they had plenty of opportunity. Even when we were being chased, it wasn’t a hard-core pursuit. The vehicles hung back. They weren’t trying to kill us.”
“How very reassuring.”
“That’s why I’m finding it hard to believe that the Hatari terrorists are involved. These guys are violent. They’ve lived through bloody massacres in their homeland. They think nothing of wiping out an entire village in Rwanda. They aren’t clever or subtle.”
“On the other hand, Kruger is known for his adept evasion of discovery,” Richard said. “But I can’t imagine why he’d focus on me. He’s not my nemesis. I haven’t heard his name in years.”
“Maybe you have,” Troy said. “His alias could have changed.”
“We need more information.”
“There’s a problem of jurisdiction,” Troy reminded him. “My marines don’t have authority inside the United States. Our information comes through the navy’s criminal investigators and homeland security.”
“Likewise for the CIA.” Richard stood. “I suggest that you contact your point man for an update, and we’ll join the ladies for lunch. We will inform them—all three of them—that they need to stay here at Bianca’s house.”
“For their own safety,” Troy said.
“Surely, they’ll understand.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
* * *
“ N OT A CHANCE,” Bianca said as she pushed her chair back from the dining table. “I can’t stay locked up in my house. I have a job.”
“Take a few days off,” Dad said as he returned from the kitchen. “I’m sure your law firm will survive.”
“It’s not about them. It’s about me. I’m on track to make partner,” Bianca said. “There’s an important dinner I need to attend tonight. We need to attend. Remember, Dad?”
“Yes, of course.”
Olivia could tell by his guarded expression that her father had completely spaced out the formal dinner that was apparently important to her sister’s career. After her heart-to-heart talk with her mom and Bianca, she felt like the balance of family relationships was in chaos. The polite civility that marked most of their luncheons had been replaced by a reckless urge to blurt out the truth. And the chardonnay was flowing.
She wasn’t drinking, and Troy had left the table to take a phone call, but the other three Laughtons had already polished off one bottle of French wine with their quiche. Standing at the head of the table, her dad pulled the cork from a second bottle. As he poured a healthy dose into Sharon’s wineglass, he said, “Try to understand, Bianca. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I’ll stay home this afternoon,” Bianca said, “but I’m going to that dinner.”
Olivia asked, “What’s so important about this dinner?”
“It’s a reception for a Saudi prince and his entourage. One of our biggest clients, CRG Energy Group, is trying to solidify a deal with him. I met the prince once before, and he specifically asked for me to be there.”
“Maybe you can be wife number three,” Olivia teased.
“Very funny. He’s not married.”
“And quite a handsome young man,” Mom said. “Amir was educated at Oxford, and he plays the violin. Your father and I met him at a recital that featured Yo-Yo Ma.”
“Yo-Yo Ma?” Olivia was impressed. “Really?”
“It’s my cover, dear. Cultural affairs at various embassies.” She smiled fondly at her husband. “We’ve led a very interesting life.”
“Amir remembers them,” Bianca said. “That’s why he wanted them to be invited to the reception.”
“Do you think we can arrange for Olivia and Troy to come?” Mom asked.
Olivia wasn’t thrilled with that idea. She’d rather have private time with Troy. “We’ll skip.”
“This is more than a social occasion.” Mom delicately sipped her chardonnay. “According to our sources, Kruger is involved with the oil business. This dinner might connect to our
“How very reassuring.”
“That’s why I’m finding it hard to believe that the Hatari terrorists are involved. These guys are violent. They’ve lived through bloody massacres in their homeland. They think nothing of wiping out an entire village in Rwanda. They aren’t clever or subtle.”
“On the other hand, Kruger is known for his adept evasion of discovery,” Richard said. “But I can’t imagine why he’d focus on me. He’s not my nemesis. I haven’t heard his name in years.”
“Maybe you have,” Troy said. “His alias could have changed.”
“We need more information.”
“There’s a problem of jurisdiction,” Troy reminded him. “My marines don’t have authority inside the United States. Our information comes through the navy’s criminal investigators and homeland security.”
“Likewise for the CIA.” Richard stood. “I suggest that you contact your point man for an update, and we’ll join the ladies for lunch. We will inform them—all three of them—that they need to stay here at Bianca’s house.”
“For their own safety,” Troy said.
“Surely, they’ll understand.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
* * *
“ N OT A CHANCE,” Bianca said as she pushed her chair back from the dining table. “I can’t stay locked up in my house. I have a job.”
“Take a few days off,” Dad said as he returned from the kitchen. “I’m sure your law firm will survive.”
“It’s not about them. It’s about me. I’m on track to make partner,” Bianca said. “There’s an important dinner I need to attend tonight. We need to attend. Remember, Dad?”
“Yes, of course.”
Olivia could tell by his guarded expression that her father had completely spaced out the formal dinner that was apparently important to her sister’s career. After her heart-to-heart talk with her mom and Bianca, she felt like the balance of family relationships was in chaos. The polite civility that marked most of their luncheons had been replaced by a reckless urge to blurt out the truth. And the chardonnay was flowing.
She wasn’t drinking, and Troy had left the table to take a phone call, but the other three Laughtons had already polished off one bottle of French wine with their quiche. Standing at the head of the table, her dad pulled the cork from a second bottle. As he poured a healthy dose into Sharon’s wineglass, he said, “Try to understand, Bianca. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I’ll stay home this afternoon,” Bianca said, “but I’m going to that dinner.”
Olivia asked, “What’s so important about this dinner?”
“It’s a reception for a Saudi prince and his entourage. One of our biggest clients, CRG Energy Group, is trying to solidify a deal with him. I met the prince once before, and he specifically asked for me to be there.”
“Maybe you can be wife number three,” Olivia teased.
“Very funny. He’s not married.”
“And quite a handsome young man,” Mom said. “Amir was educated at Oxford, and he plays the violin. Your father and I met him at a recital that featured Yo-Yo Ma.”
“Yo-Yo Ma?” Olivia was impressed. “Really?”
“It’s my cover, dear. Cultural affairs at various embassies.” She smiled fondly at her husband. “We’ve led a very interesting life.”
“Amir remembers them,” Bianca said. “That’s why he wanted them to be invited to the reception.”
“Do you think we can arrange for Olivia and Troy to come?” Mom asked.
Olivia wasn’t thrilled with that idea. She’d rather have private time with Troy. “We’ll skip.”
“This is more than a social occasion.” Mom delicately sipped her chardonnay. “According to our sources, Kruger is involved with the oil business. This dinner might connect to our
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