Chapter 2
Smiling as he pulled into the back-alley parking lot for the Lucky Parrot, he parked next to the Jaguar Shana had been driving.
“Shana beat us here,” Peter said. “Maybe I should have driven with her.”
“Don’t bring it up. She’ll never let me live it down.”
They got out of the old Jeep and Dane looked around, circling the car to walk with Peter. Joe pulled into the lot with Madeline. David was on his way back to Boston.
“Thanks for scaring away the media out front of the courthouse,” Peter said. “I have a press conference planned, but I’m not ready yet. Still negotiating the terms.”
“The feds giving you shit?” Dane said.
Peter nodded.
Dane said, “Let’s go in the front door. We’re not hiding.
Not yet, but we have something to discuss.
” Dane motioned for Joe and Madeline to follow.
Shana would have already secured their table, the usual one with the best viewing angle for the whole place, with a good escape route through to the back and plenty of space on the semicircular cushioned bench and extra chairs.
It was also a perfect spot for an intimate encounter with a lover or to avoid a boisterous crowd.
They walked around front and Dane noted that the proprietor had extra bouncers to control the crowd, who were mostly media types. There were few vacationers this time of year. The regulars were no doubt inside.
They took their seats and somehow in the shuffle, Dane ended up sitting across from Shana. The arrangement disturbed him more than it should, left him feeling out of balance, disconnected. As they ordered drinks, he kept his eyes on her until she made a face at him.
“Whose idea was it for you to join me here?” Peter said to Madeline.
Dane saw the strain on Peter’s face though his tone was innocuous.
“My idea,” Dane said.
Madeline laughed. “It’s okay. I’ll confess.”
Peter went on alert. He took this seriously. He knew something was up.
Madeline explained and Joe nodded. Peter kept his face calm, but Dane knew the tells. He was worried as hell.
He glanced at Joe. They’d need to talk, to coordinate.
“You’re not surprised,” Dane said to Peter.
“No.” That’s as far as he got in his explanation before a commotion at the door brought both Dane and Joe to their feet.
Joshua Acerman, Acer, another member of their special ops unit, barreled through the familiar crowd.
More than a few suits stared their way, Dane noted.
FBI. Following him? Or following Peter? Either way, he and Joe settled back into their seats after exchanging a brief hug.
Dane kept a hand on Peter’s shoulder, keeping him in his seat. No sense in taking chances.
“Why the hell isn’t this meeting in the basement?
” Acer said. He clapped Peter on the back and pulled up a chair from a nearby table.
Slinging his backpack around front, he pulled his laptop from it.
“How am I supposed to get work done with this crowd? There’s damn reporters and cameras everywhere. ”
“Peter is safe out in the open, in plain sight, with the crowds and press—not to mention the surveillance cameras,” Dane said.
“Then the whack job who’s targeting you isn’t so whacked that he doesn’t care about getting caught?” Ace said to Peter.
“She does not want to get caught,” Peter said. Shaking his head, all eyes on him now.
“She? You know who it is? I didn’t even get started. What the hell do you need me for now?” Ace slammed his laptop shut and threw up a hand at the bartender. “I’ll have a double shot of Patron.”
“Yes. And I don’t know what you were told, but it has nothing to do with the Senate race.” He paused. Everyone waited.
Dane said, “Spill it. The place is clear. It’s set up to be . . . safe for secrets.”
Peter heaved an uncomfortable breath and turned to his wife.
“I’m not sure what that photo you got was about, Mad.
But my guess is that it was probably meant to throw us off, distract, put us on a different trail.
Looks like it’s from the same type of drone, same quality, similar subject as the photos I received previously.
” He took a sip of his drink. “It’s therefore from the same people. ”
Dane didn’t like what he was hearing. It wasn’t like Peter to jump to conclusions so quickly and he hoped his dismissiveness of the latest photo was meant to placate Madeline. Though she was no dummy.
Peter said, “I wanted to keep it all quiet. I—we were hoping it would go away before election day.”
“By we, you mean the feds. FBI.” Dane wanted to be clear. He didn’t like that Peter had the FBI involved, but it was understandable in his position. He may not have had a choice. Still, it felt too much like he was consorting with the enemy, or Dane’s enemies, to be precise.
The quick dismissal of the threat and photo Madeline had received alerted Dane’s spidey sense. Whether Peter was convinced or not that the photo did or didn’t fit with the prior threats, Dane was not convinced it was the same threat.
Dane wasn’t sure what the chances were that there were two different entities making legitimate threats at the same time. But the feds would know. His best guess was that chances were pretty good.
Though he’d never worked Secret Service, he knew others who did and he’d worked enough VIP protection details while he was in Chicago SWAT to know that high-level politicians, especially during election periods often received multiple viable threats.
“You gave this latest photo to the feds?” Dane asked.
Peter nodded.
“I have the FBI working on this. Sorry, Acer, but the team is out of commission with Dane on trial for—”
“Don’t say it,” Dane said. “It’s temporary. And there’s nothing stopping me—all of us—from doing our unofficial thing. Same as always.” Especially if there were two viable threats—and the feds were treating it as one.
“Don’t you think this is the time to keep a low profile?” Peter asked.
“Stupid question,” Shana said.
“Would you stand by and do nothing if someone threatened me?” Dane asked.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Madeline said. “It’s my fault. I panicked and called him in.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Shana said.
“It’s okay. They’d have found out sooner or later.
” Peter stared each one of them down in turn—Dane, Joe, Acer, and Shana.
“I’m well aware I can’t stop you from doing your thing, but since I called the feds in, I can’t very well run interference either.
I can share intel, but I can’t bail you out of trouble. ”
“The hell with that,” Madeline said. She looked at the group who stared at her.
“I’ll bail you out then. I’ll run interference.
I need you guys to have Peter’s back. The feds are good at tracking down people, but you all,” she waved her hand, “you know how to protect people. You I have confidence in to make sure no harm comes to my husband.”
A beat of silence hung in the air and stretched out, weighing down on them like a cloud had choked off their vocal cords.
Dane felt the sharp pressure, the stakes real enough to stab him through his shoulder blades.
If Peter was in real danger—and since Peter himself thought so, it was far too real for Dane—then he would damn well do what he could to have his friend and mentor’s back.
If there was one man who’d impacted his life the most since he’d lost his father, it was Peter John Douglas.
Dane slid a glance at Shana. She was watching him from across the table.
He wished like hell she was at his side as a painful wave of longing, the need to feel her, to keep her safe welled up in him like a doomsday fog.
She winked at him, breaking his tension, his foreboding, as if she knew it had been there in him.
Hell, she probably did know. She was getting damn good at reading his mind, seeing what no one else saw on his unreadable face.
“Unless we’re expecting a sniper attack, a protective detail on the perimeter of the official protection should work,” Joe said.
“Never rule out a sniper,” Dane said. Madeline snapped her head to him, fear on her face. Shit. He was a damn fool. Shana shot him a scowl.
Doubling down, he scowled back. Madeline was tough and they weren’t playing checkers. This game was for keeps.
Acer said, “Dane’s right. I don’t know who this chick is that’s got herself all riled up or what the story is, but whenever your assignment is to down a high-profile, well-protected target, sniper shot is the number-one choice.”
Peter and Joe nodded. Madeline got herself under control with a long breath.
“Okay,” she said. “So what does that mean? What do we do?”
“We plan transport very carefully,” Peter said.
“Helps that we’re on an island with no high buildings to speak of,” Dane said. “But the open water is a blessing and a curse. If I were a sniper, I’d plant myself on a boat and wait for an opening.”
“So no seaside strolls.” Madeline looked serious in spite of the quip.
“We leave by the back door,” Dane said. The beach was across the street.
“What else?” Joe said. “Away from windows.”
Dane nodded. “The feds will be checking the crowds—to the extent that you encounter any.”
“I’m scheduled for a press conference tomorrow. I’ve been advised to give a statement about my association with you,” Peter said, looking at Dane.
“Swell.” Dane couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was tough to think that their friendship was bringing Peter down.
“Meanwhile,” Mad said, turning to Shana, “what about your wedding?”