Page 91

“No, ma’am,” Slash said. “Definitely not me.”

Grandma Adalee and Grandpa Caleb, my maternal grandparents, were both quite the travelers, and they were fascinated by Slash. They began to quiz him on his hometown of Sperlonga, as well as how we’d met and how long we’d been dating.

Slash, being Slash, had them all charmed in less than an hour. We had to promise to visit them within the year so they could get to know him better. To my surprise, Slash didn’t seem to mind.

“I love your family,” Slash said as we headed back to our room for a rest before our dinner with the pope, Father Armando, and our parents. “Your grandparents are sweet.”

“We should be sure to introduce them to Nonna,” I said. “I think they would all get along great.”

He nodded. “They certainly would.”

I sighed with relief when we got back to the room. Even though I’d had a fun afternoon, I had spent a considerable amount of time with people, and I needed to recharge. Slash did, too. He was far better than me in social situations, but even he needed his downtime, especially after pulling an all-nighter.

We removed our fancy clothes, at least temporarily, and put on comfortable jeans and T-shirts. I tied my hair back in a ponytail and felt normal again. I resisted washing my face, since I’d just have to put the makeup back on for dinner, and when I came out of the bathroom, Slash already sat at the desk, working on his laptop.

“That luncheon was the best part of our wedding so far,” I declared.

“I won’t disagree with you.” He didn’t look up from his laptop. “Especially since no one got shot at, attacked, threatened, or disemboweled.”

I stared at him. “Are you kidding me? Disemboweled isnoton anyone’s wedding disaster planning spreadsheet…right?”

“That’s classified.” But I saw his lips twitch.

Sighing, I stood behind him with my hands on his shoulders and peered at his screen. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing if I have an update from General Norton, the Secret Service, or the FBI on the little excitement I got started this morning. Unfortunately, no news yet.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” I said. “You’re only checking because you’re worried about Xavier and Elvis and whether or not the FBI has any leads on Sokholov.”

“Yes. Exceptionally worried, because Plotnikov’s pockets are deep, and he’s a man motivated by vanity, greed, and appearances. He intends to make them pay one way or the other.”

“But he’s already tried three times and failed. What’s stopping him from just waiting until the wedding is over and trying again?”

Slash pushed back in his chair and shook his head. “What’s stopping him is that Plotnikov has no idea we’re on to him. To keep him from the anger of the Russian government, he still needs the cover of the US and the world thinking this is a concentrated attack on the first lady, the pope, or some other high-profile figure.”

“But the first lady wasn’t in the motorcade from the White House or in our car at the church,” I protested. “How does that provide cover for him?”

“Plausible deniability. There would be enough ways to generate speculation that the attackersthoughtthe first lady was there so he could hide the actual targets. For him, what’s paramount is that the Russian or US government can’t tie him to this.”

“Does that way of thinking come from the Assassination 101 playbook or something?”

“Maybe.” He closed his laptop and stood, pulling me into his arms. “Unfortunately, I believe that means we’re not out of the woods yet.”

My stomach sank. “Our wedding is in less than twenty-four hours. We are protected by dozens of police and Secret Service. There will be snipers at the church for our wedding and helicopters overhead. Heck, we can’t even leave the freaking hotel until the wedding. It’s like Fort Knox here. Do we really have to be worried?”

He stroked my cheek with his hand. “Remember when we were talking about intuition or gut feelings? That’s what I’m operating on right now.”

Slash’s cell rang, and he released me to pull it out of his pocket. “Hey, Bob. What’s up?” He listened for a minute and then asked Bob to stand by.

“Who is it?” I asked as Slash put the phone on mute.

“It’s Bob Thornton from the FBI. He says Amanda has been cleared of any wrongdoing. Apparently, she’s at the hotel and wants to talk with us, but the Secret Service want to clear it with us first. What do you think?”

I considered for a moment. “If the FBI investigated and cleared her, then she’s as much a victim as we are. I think she should be able to resume her work with us if that’s what she wants. Are you comfortable with that?”

“If she’s been cleared by the FBI, then I’m comfortable with it. A case this high-profile, they’d have turned over every rock.” Slash unmuted the phone. “Thanks, Bob. We’ll talk to her. I’ll go tell the agents downstairs she’s permitted to come up.”

Slash hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. “I’ll be right back.”