Page 46 of Single Malt

I understood the need for security. I’d been young on 9/11, but I remembered it. The first time my dad had gotten on a plane after that day, I’d freaked out. It was only after he’d assured me that he personally knew everyone who’d be on the family’s plane that I’d calmed down. Still, I remembered staying awake until he called to tell us he’d landed safely.

“Dammit,” I muttered as I moved to the side, out of the path of anyone else coming in. I closed my eyes and ran a hand over my face.

I wasn’t a nervous flier, but those were not the memories I wanted in my head before I got on a flight. I needed a plan I could focus on and follow one step at a time to keep my mind from going back there.

Once I went through security, I’d pick up some coffee to drink while I waited for the plane to start boarding. I’d take care of my email first and then start looking into Black Masque once I was on the plane. Whenever I didn’t fly privately, I made sure my seat was always in a place where nothing that I worked on could be seen by anyone around me.

Usually, it was because I could be working on proprietary information, but now, I was even more grateful that I’d booked my seats that way. The last thing I needed was some kid accidentally seeing BDSM pictures on my screen. Granted, I’d try to avoid all visuals, but crazy shit happened when doing internet searches.

I was halfway through the security line when I noticed that people all around me were looking at their phones, talking to each other, their expressions making it clear that something was wrong. Even as I opened an app for the news, my phone buzzed with a text message from my brother Cory. A group message, actually.

If you haven’t seen the news, there’s something going down at Stanford. Fury and I are fine. We don’t know a lot, but the university is locked down.

My immediate relief that my family was safe quickly became concern as my brain made the association to someone else.

Shit.

Freedom was there.

I sent back a quickglad you’re okayand then went to CNN’s website to find out what the hell was going on back in California.

Twenty-Nine

Freedom

I wantedto take the blanket from around my shoulders and wrap Aline up completely, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t cooperate with the paramedics, neither would my sister. We weren’t hurt, either one of us, but EMTs had been handing out those shiny emergency ‘blankets’ to anyone who’d been outside during the shooting.

I wondered if they were using the blankets to determine who’d been checked out and who they still needed to see, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t need to. I’d been trying to keep my mind busy while I waited for the police officer to get to Aline and me, and now a pair of them were coming our way.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the female cop said as she stopped in front of us. “I’m Officer Lapland, and this is my partner, Officer Feretti.”

“I’m Freedom Mercier,” I said. “This is Aline.”

Officer Lapland looked back and forth between the two of us. “Sisters?”

“Yes,” Aline answered. “I suppose you’ll want to speak to us separately?”

Her voice was steady, and I felt a surge of pride at how well she was handling the situation.

“If that’s all right,” Officer Feretti said. When I nodded, he gestured for me to follow him, flipping to the next page in his notebook as we went. “All right, Ms. Mercier. In your own words, tell me what happened.”

I’d had nearly forty minutes to put everything into order in my head, so my story was matter-of-fact and succinct. I’d been petrified at the time, scared that I couldn’t protect my sister, but the fear had faded enough that I was able to get through the recitation without a quiver in my voice.

Whatever had happened seemed to be over, and we were in a safe place. I wouldn’t be completely at ease, however, until I knew exactly what had occurred and that it wouldn’t happen again.

“You didn’t see anyone with a gun?” Officer Feretti asked.

I shook my head and tried not to be impatient. I’d explained everything that’d happened, including the fact that I’d only heard the shots, but I understood that asking for confirmation didn’t always mean a person wasn’t listening or didn’t believe me. These officers had taken numerous statements today, and they needed to ensure that they had all their ducks in a row.

Right now, I was a duck.

I finished before Aline, and that was when I noticed the reporters. We didn’t have any police tape up, but the cops had set up what appeared to be a perimeter with their cars and campus security, so none of the reporters were close enough to bother Aline or me. But reporters meant cameras which meant news which meant–

Shit.

I scrambled to get my phone out of my purse. Aline and I hadn’t needed to wait for the all-clear message from the school, so I hadn’t checked my phone after seeing the initial alert right after we’d gotten into the building. That had been almost an hour ago now.

Just like I’d thought, there were multiple missed calls, voicemails, and text messages from both my parents. I didn’t bother reading or listening to any of the messages since I knew what they’d all say. Instead, I called my mother back.