Page 67 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 63

Litchfield, Connecticut

I smash the burner phone and toss the parts into a drainage pond—and accidentally drop my own phone in with it.

“Shit!” I fish my phone out and power it down, knowing I won’t be able to dry it out until I get home.

At the farmhouse, I sit in the living room with the lights off and drapes pulled shut.

If I had a gun, it would definitely be loaded and on my lap right now.

I’m wishing I’d bought one in New Hampshire.

Every few minutes, I get up to peek through the drapes, hoping to see the headlights of Garrett’s rental car.

Hoping I don’t see anybody else.

I stare at my dark phone sitting in a tub of rice.

Screw it. I press the button and the Apple symbol glows as the phone comes back to life.

I have one voicemail from Garrett: “Brea! Call me!” He sounds nervous.

Excited.

I also have half a dozen texts from him.

And another one from an unknown caller.

The danger is getting deeper.

Stop now.

A Brother

A chill runs down my body all the way to my feet.

That does it. I’m calling Garrett.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Brea! Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I have to tell you about a meeting I just had at an airport near Hanover. I don’t want to talk about it over the phone except to say that it was with the subject of our investigation.”

“How is that possible?” I ask.

And what does this mean?

“Let’s do a rendezvous,” says Garrett.

“Meet me at our place.”