Page 10 of The Perfect Hosts
“You definitely weren’t there last night?” the sheriff asks.
“Dad,” Trent says with exasperation, “what’s going on?”
Dad? Lucy repeats to herself.Dad?The sheriff is this big lout’s father?
The sheriff stares a long while at his son before speaking. “The Drakes went and blew themselves up with that damn gender reveal thing. Lots of injuries, at least one dead.”
Lucy holds completely still. Her limbs have gone numb.
“Who died?” Trent asks, panic rising in his voice. “Who was it?”
The sheriff glances over at Lucy as if not wanting to say more. “Take care of this nice lady’s tire and then you better head over there.” Of course he can’t tell them who died. Not in front of her anyway.
Lucy has to say something. Now. They would find out soon enough who she is, why she is a thousand miles away fromwhere she is supposed to be. She has to say the right things, act the right way. “Did you say the Drakes?” Lucy manages to ask.
“That’s right,” the sheriff says, looking at Lucy with new interest. “You know them?”
“Yes,” Lucy says, her voice shakes on the word. “Madeline Drake is my sister. Is she dead?”
Chapter 4
Jamie
Supervisory Special Agent Jamie Saldano is hiding in the kitchen long after the microwave popcorn has popped and he’s dumped it into a bowl. Funny, he thinks, in the past seventeen years, he’s faced violent criminals, arms dealers, arsonists, and domestic terrorists, but the thought of being in the same room as his wife right now causes him to break into a cold sweat. Tess hadn’t wanted to make the move from DC, has never lived in a city with a population less than a million, and now they are in Nowheresville, Wyoming, and it is all Jamie’s fault.
The supervisory special agent opportunity with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, also known as the ATF, came just when the boutique business-strategy consulting firm that Tess worked for closed its doors. To her credit, Tess has tried to be happy in Cheyenne, but two months in, Tess is bored and lonely and no closer to finding a comparable position. Her friends and family—all miles away. Why Wyoming? she asked, tearfully. He had a bachelor degree in criminology from the University of Maryland, five years with DC Metro, twelve years as an ATF agent working on everything from gun trafficking to arson to the criminal use of firearms and explosives. Of all the places he could have transferred, why here?
It was a fair question. Jamie didn’t have fond memories ofthe state he lived in for six torturous months as a kid, but it was also the state he had the biggest connection to.
Last week, Jamie made the mistake of telling her that maybe she should find a hobby. It came out wrong, and Tess has barely spoken to him since then.
Somehow the chill has started to thaw, and they are in the midst of watching an old movie, but still their conversation is forced, stilted. Jamie hates this but truly doesn’t know how to make it better. Blessedly his cell rings, and one glance at the screen tells him it’s important. The special agent in charge, or SAC, doesn’t call after eight o’clock on a Friday night on a whim.
“Saldano, we’ve got a possible bombing over in Woodson County,” SAC Linton Sykes says brusquely. Sykes is responsible for ATF operations throughout Wyoming and three other states. The hair at Jamie’s neck bristles at the mention of Woodson County. “At least one dead and multiple injuries at a gathering involving a high-profile family,” Sykes continues. “We need a certified explosive specialist out there now.”
“Yes, sir,” Jamie says. “Right away.”
“Good,” Sykes says. “I’ll send you the information. And keep me posted. The press is going to be all over this.”
Jamie disconnects and looks up to find Tess standing in the doorway. Her dark hair is piled atop her head in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms and one of Jamie’s old ATF T-shirts. “You have to go?” she asks, and Jamie can’t tell if he hears disappointment or accusation in her voice. She looks small and vulnerable. So unlike what he’s used to. He doesn’t like it.
“Yeah,” he says. “Explosion west of here. Linton wants someone out there right away.”
“Greta can’t go?” Tess asks. Greta Martin is the intelligence research specialist in the Cheyenne office and has befriended Tess, though they have little in common. “I thought being the boss meant that you could delegate.”
“Normally that’s the case, but this time my boss is the one doing the delegating,” Jamie says. This wasn’t technically true. Linton hadn’t expressly requested him, but Jamie was the most experienced CES in the Cheyenne office.
Tess nods in understanding. They’ve been married long enough for Tess to be used to Jamie having to leave at a moment’s notice. “Want me to help pack your bag?” she asks.
“Nah,” Jamie says. “I’ve got it. You watch the movie. Thanks, though.” He brushes past her on the way to the closet in the extra bedroom where Jamie keeps his suitcase. Their modest, tidy house seems huge in comparison to their tiny one-bedroom apartment in DC. He’s itching to get to his car and to read the email from Linton but is almost afraid to find out. Tess watches in silence as he changes his clothes, packs quickly, and retrieves his sidearm from the safe.
“I’m sorry,” Jamie says once his suitcase is stowed in the trunk of his ATF-issued vehicle.
“I know,” Tess says, but her voice is flat. He bends down to kiss her, but he can feel her tense beneath his touch. He’s losing her, and he doesn’t know how to stop it from happening. That’s not quite right. He knows he needs to get Tess back to DC, back to a career she loved and to the people she loved, and he will eventually. But for now he has a job to do.
He lifts his bicycle onto the rack on the rear of his vehicle. He takes it with him whenever he travels for work. As a kid he logged hundreds of miles on his skateboard, but in college he swapped it out for a secondhand ten-speed. Jamie backs out of the garage and waves to Tess as he clears the driveway, but she’s already turned away.
Once on the road, he checks his phone for the email from Linton. It’s brief but gives him the basics. An explosion. One dead, at least two critical, and dozens of others with injuries. But it’s the town where he’s headed that causes him to nearly swerve off the road.