Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
This could be over next week.
Riley gave her head a shake to chase Colton’s words from her mind, where they’d ricocheted around the last three days. Focusing instead on the older woman on the other side of the glass, she smiled as she handed her a plate. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
The woman wouldn’t meet her eyes. Riley’s heart squeezed. Nobody should spend their later years like this. Nobody should spend any of their years like this. No place to call their own. Wearing the same clothes for days on end. Not knowing if they’ll eat that day. Or the next.
She took the plate Colton passed her, put a hot roll on top of the turkey slices, and handed it to the man next in line. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“This sure looks good,” he said with a gap-toothed grin. “Thank you kindly.”
As he walked away, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and peered out over the room. She’d worn tennis shoes since she would be on her feet most of the day, but exhaustion pulled on her limbs. Everything ached. Probably from tossing and turning so much the last twelve days.
The volume had increased as more showed up for their free meal, the comforting aromas of baked turkey, fresh bread, stuffing, and mashed potatoes with gravy diluting the odor of so many bodies in one place.
The shelter had offered the use of their shower facilities to everybody who showed up for a meal today.
Someday, maybe they’d even have enough beds for them all.
She grinned at a little girl clutching a doll with a smudged face and held out the child-sized plate Colton handed her.
“Here you go, sweetie. Let me know if you want seconds. There’s plenty.
” Her wink at least brought a hint of a smile, but her heart ached for the child now walking under the protective arm of her father to a table.
A family of four. Mother, father, the little girl, and an older boy. All without a home.
So incongruous to the place she’d return to today to celebrate the holiday with family and friends. If only there were more she could do.
This could be over next week.
The possibility brought a puzzling mixture of hope and dread.
In a matter of days, this could all be behind her.
The townhome would have to be sold. She might need sleep, but she would never again lay her head down under that roof.
A real estate agent had already been contacted and would list it after the holidays.
She’d move anything salvageable to storage and stay at the estate until she could find a new place.
She’d love to get back behind the wheel of her little BMW sports coupe, but she would miss the banter with the guys during their time in the SUV.
And while she’d like to go about her business without wondering if another note might come, or another call with that blood-curdling altered voice, she took comfort whenever she looked up from her work and found Colton standing outside her office or walking up and down the hall.
A nudge to her arm brought her gaze snapping up to the man beside her. “You’re holding up the line, Hudson.”
She chuckled at his teasing wink. “Sorry.” She took the next plate, served the roll, and passed it on with her usual “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Take a break if you need it. They have folks to cover for us.”
“I’m fine.”
Sort of. Along with Colton’s confident statement of how soon she would no longer need them, need him, she couldn’t stop thinking about the last note. John had sent Colton a picture of the open card after the envelope had been processed. A picture she’d badgered him into sharing with her.
My dear Miss Hudson,
Your confidence is going to be the death of you. Don’t get too comfortable with your goons. They’re only human, after all. Dispensable. You’d be surprised how easily.
See you soon. Very soon.
Colton hadn’t appeared the least bit concerned by the not-so-veiled threat. Dispensable? What did that mean? That the creep could do something to her guys? Harm them in some way? Or worse, take them out? She couldn’t live with herself if something happened to any of them on her behalf.
Colton gestured for the kitchen manager. “Can we give Miss Hudson a quick break?”
Riley grabbed his arm. “No, I’m fine.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “No. You’re not. Fifteen minutes and you can come back.”
The woman nodded. “Yes, take some time. You haven’t stopped since you got here.”
She waved at two men seated at a table nearby, and they made their way to the kitchen door, manned by one of the additional Petersen security operatives provided for the event, since it would’ve been impossible to vet everybody.
Paul and Trevor had both been posted at the entrance since they got there, checking coats and bags for weapons, as well as comparing each face to the close-up images from the security videos for anything familiar.
Riley, too, had been studying all the men around his height who came through the line, her focus going to their hands before their faces. So far, nothing. No scratches or bandages.
Her nerves hummed like live wires. Maybe Colton was right. A break might be good.
Aproned up now, their two subs took their place, and she followed Colton to a room behind the kitchen designated as a break room for the volunteers.
He led her by the elbow to a rectangular metal collapsible table. “Sit. I’ll grab us some coffee.”
Giving in instead of arguing seemed like the better bet. “Thanks.”
At the counter, he poured coffee into two Styrofoam cups, doctored his with sugar, and brought them back with two creamers and a packet of sweetener for her. “Not exactly your preferred Americano, but hopefully it’ll perk you up.”
“I’m sorry I kept drifting off. I don’t usually have such a hard time focusing. I love this event.”
He pulled up a chair next to her. “You’re exhausted, Riley. In every way.”
Thankful they were alone in the small room with the wall heater puffing out air full blast, she poured one creamer and the sweetener into her cup. “How do you do it?” She took a sip and let the bitter liquid slide down her throat.
After taking a hearty swallow of coffee, he winced and set the cup down on the table. “That stuff is terrible.”
“The worst. But I’ll take it.”
“So, how do I do what?”
“Work with so little sleep.”
He shrugged. “I have to admit, the first couple of days on your detail were a bit brutal. But I’d just flown in on Saturday evening from London, so I had a bad case of jet lag.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. “Why did Mack put you on my detail so fast, then? You should’ve taken a break.”
“I guess he had faith I could handle it.”
“Handle it.” Her gaze narrowed. “The night we met in Dad’s study, he said you guys were the best he had. Is that why you got stuck with me? Because you’re the best?”
“Riley.” The look he gave her was the same one she remembered from her childhood, when her mother would shake her head and press her lips together at some new mischief Riley had delved into.
“We’re not stuck with you. In fact, I was under the impression you felt it was the other way around.
” He brought the cup back to his mouth. “That’s how I remember it, anyhow.
” After taking another swallow, he grimaced.
“This is worse than the sludge Mack keeps in his office.”
She laughed and passed him the extra creamer he’d brought to the table.
He shook his head. “This is beyond help. How can you keep drinking it?”
“I guess I’m desperate for the caffeine infusion.
” She took a swallow and forced it down.
It really was awful. Had probably been sitting in the pot for hours.
“I’m sorry you had to come onto my detail without getting some rest first. And especially for not letting you guys know my schedule earlier and throwing all that work on you. ”
“That was my fault. Not yours. I had your file in my hands Saturday before I ever set foot at the estate. I just didn’t look at it.”
Somehow, that pricked at her a little. He really had judged her as shallow and entitled. Not even worth a look at her file.
His expression turned contrite. “Sorry. That sounded bad.”
“Sounded truthful. I like that about you. You’re always honest with me.”
“But not always in the most polite way. I was wrong about you from the first moment. I apologize for being so short-sighted.”
“Forgiven. And I’m sorry I called you cocky. And tactical gear.”
“Both descriptions I wear proudly.”
She giggled and finished off her coffee. “Okay, I’m ready to get back to work.”
Standing, she pulled at the vest she’d been instructed to wear under her sweater for the day.
Soft body armor, Colton had called it. The same thing they wore under their shirts with their suits whenever they were out.
She hadn’t even known they were wearing body armor until he told her a couple of days into her detail.
He sure hadn’t been wearing one at the Cantrells’.
As close as she’d been to him on the dance floor, she would’ve been aware of it.
Apparently, they’d been satisfied with all the extra security that night and left the body armor behind.
“How do you guys wear these every day? It’s like a corset.”
“You get used to it. I’m not even aware of mine anymore. Not that I know what a corset feels like.”
“Me, either, but I would imagine something like this.”
He stood and reached for her cup. “Only a couple more hours until you’re home and can take it off. But I want you in it every time we’re going to be in public. No arguments.”
“Yes, sir.” She threw him her best stink-eye, but it bounced off him like a bullet to his soft body armor.
“Maybe after your family dinner, you can kick back and relax.”
“Definitely the plan.”
The door opened and Trevor peered in. “There you are. We have someone out here who might be our guy.”
Her pulse skipped. “Really? Here right now?”
“Going through the line as we speak. Scratched-up hand. You up to take a look and see what you think?”
“Absolutely.” Either the caffeine kicked in or her adrenaline spiked. This could be it. Could be the moment she would come face to face with the man in her nightmares. Either way, her heart raced like a bomb ticking down the last few seconds before detonation.
Colton’s expression hardened back into protector mode as he preceded her and Trevor out to the kitchen. “Which one?”
Trevor turned his back to the line. “Red beard, stringy hair, black coat, too-big glasses. You see him?”
Riley eyed the man Trevor had described, her breath catching when he looked up and caught her staring. Her gaze snapped back to Trevor as her heart fell. “Not him.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded. “The eyes are wrong.”
“How can you know?”
“Because I looked straight into those eyes that day, and I’ll never forget them. Besides, that’s a fairly new injury. Not scratches almost two weeks old. He’s not the guy.”
Colton put his hands on his hips. “She’s right. Back to posts. We keep looking.”
Looking for the hunter before the hunter found her.