Page 69
Story: The First Gentleman
“Okay,” says Gagnon. “I won’t if you won’t.” She’s doing her best to keep an open mind. But she can’t help making connections. It’s what she does.
Gagnon rubs her hand across the bagged tennis bracelet. Call it intuition, but she has a strong feeling now about who was wearing it.
I see you, Suzanne. I see you.
CHAPTER
65
Brattleboro, Vermont
In cabin 19 at Montcalm Acres, Garrett is in a great mood. He was able to snag the same unit where he and Brea had their first off-campus date years ago. What better place to tell her the news and reignite their project?
Back then, they had planned to spend a long day exploring local trails, but a late-autumn cloudburst cut their hike short. Not a bad outcome, as it turned out. They’d spent the rest of the day in bed making love while their clothes dried in front of a roaring fire.
That was the day he’d first told Brea that he loved her. Right there, in that saggy, squeaky bed. Garrett can still remember the sound of the rain hammering on the tin roof over their heads. It was perfect.
Tonight, it’s chilly in the cabin. Garrett pulls a wool blanket from a shelf and drapes it around his shoulders for warmth, then puts his laptop on the table near the fireplace. He paid for a load of firewood when he checked in, but it’s not here yet.
Garrett pulls up a stool and opens his laptop to reexamine his notes. He’s thinking that today’s events could make a dramatic prologue: Kidnapped on the open road by the Secret Service. Taken to a small airport for a clandestine interview with the First Gentleman of the United States.
Hell, that’s better than Woodward’s damn parking garage.
Garrett checks his email. The internet service here is iffy. Google takes forever to load.
No reply yet from Ukraine. Not unusual. Daryna works her own hours. And her internet service is spotty too, thanks to Russian missile attacks. It’s not unusual for her to be off the grid for days at a time. She always resurfaces. At least, she always has so far.
Garrett rubs his hands together under the blanket. All they really need is a solid proposal and a few killer chapters to kick off the auction and make the Nottingham people sorry they tore up their contract.
Garrett gets up from the chair, nervous energy flowing through him. He starts pacing. He checks the time on his phone.
Brea should be here any moment.
There’s a knock on the door. A muffled voice. “Mr. Wilson?”
Must be the guy with the firewood. Garrett closes his laptop. “Hold on.”
He walks across the wide-plank floor and pulls the door open.
Two men are standing there. Dark slacks, short black jackets, plain black baseball caps.
First impression: No firewood. One man is in his thirties; the other is a little younger. The men push into the room.
“Hey!” says Garrett. His mouth suddenly goes dry.
The younger man shoves him in the chest, forcing him back. The older one says, “Now.”
The metal end of the silencer is cold on Garrett’s forehead.
Brea!His last thought.
CHAPTER
66
Imake it to Brattleboro in record time. My last text from Garrett said that he’d booked cabin 19, our place. After all, that’s where he first told me that he loved me. As if I hadn’t known it already. I told him I loved him too.
I round the last curve through the pine trees.
Gagnon rubs her hand across the bagged tennis bracelet. Call it intuition, but she has a strong feeling now about who was wearing it.
I see you, Suzanne. I see you.
CHAPTER
65
Brattleboro, Vermont
In cabin 19 at Montcalm Acres, Garrett is in a great mood. He was able to snag the same unit where he and Brea had their first off-campus date years ago. What better place to tell her the news and reignite their project?
Back then, they had planned to spend a long day exploring local trails, but a late-autumn cloudburst cut their hike short. Not a bad outcome, as it turned out. They’d spent the rest of the day in bed making love while their clothes dried in front of a roaring fire.
That was the day he’d first told Brea that he loved her. Right there, in that saggy, squeaky bed. Garrett can still remember the sound of the rain hammering on the tin roof over their heads. It was perfect.
Tonight, it’s chilly in the cabin. Garrett pulls a wool blanket from a shelf and drapes it around his shoulders for warmth, then puts his laptop on the table near the fireplace. He paid for a load of firewood when he checked in, but it’s not here yet.
Garrett pulls up a stool and opens his laptop to reexamine his notes. He’s thinking that today’s events could make a dramatic prologue: Kidnapped on the open road by the Secret Service. Taken to a small airport for a clandestine interview with the First Gentleman of the United States.
Hell, that’s better than Woodward’s damn parking garage.
Garrett checks his email. The internet service here is iffy. Google takes forever to load.
No reply yet from Ukraine. Not unusual. Daryna works her own hours. And her internet service is spotty too, thanks to Russian missile attacks. It’s not unusual for her to be off the grid for days at a time. She always resurfaces. At least, she always has so far.
Garrett rubs his hands together under the blanket. All they really need is a solid proposal and a few killer chapters to kick off the auction and make the Nottingham people sorry they tore up their contract.
Garrett gets up from the chair, nervous energy flowing through him. He starts pacing. He checks the time on his phone.
Brea should be here any moment.
There’s a knock on the door. A muffled voice. “Mr. Wilson?”
Must be the guy with the firewood. Garrett closes his laptop. “Hold on.”
He walks across the wide-plank floor and pulls the door open.
Two men are standing there. Dark slacks, short black jackets, plain black baseball caps.
First impression: No firewood. One man is in his thirties; the other is a little younger. The men push into the room.
“Hey!” says Garrett. His mouth suddenly goes dry.
The younger man shoves him in the chest, forcing him back. The older one says, “Now.”
The metal end of the silencer is cold on Garrett’s forehead.
Brea!His last thought.
CHAPTER
66
Imake it to Brattleboro in record time. My last text from Garrett said that he’d booked cabin 19, our place. After all, that’s where he first told me that he loved me. As if I hadn’t known it already. I told him I loved him too.
I round the last curve through the pine trees.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157