Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Stifling a yawn, Colton took a seat in one of the wingback chairs in Miss Hudson’s upstairs study.
He had to admit, the bed in his guest room was every bit as comfortable as his at home, and he’d slept soundly until his alarm sounded at six.
Jet lag still had him by the throat, though, so he hoped she would be headed to bed early tonight.
By tomorrow, his internal clock should be recalibrated back to Houston time, and he’d be ready for whatever she had planned for her day.
He watched her for a moment, standing next to her feminine French Provincial desk as the printer on the credenza behind it spat out sheets of paper. “Thank you for including us at lunch.”
She grabbed the pages off the printer and walked around the front of the desk. “Of course. Hilda loves cooking for folks, so the more the merrier in her estimation.”
“We appreciate it.”
He’d been surprised when Candace Hudson invited them to join the family for Sunday dinner. Their wealthier clients usually provided meals for them, but not at the formal dining table with the family. That was a first for him.
Now, however, with a hearty lunch of pork loin, sweet potatoes, balsamic-glazed Brussels sprouts, and homemade yeast rolls on board, he was having an even harder time pushing back the fatigue that still pulled at him after yesterday’s transatlantic flight.
Especially after only half of the twelve hours’ sleep he’d hoped for.
Finding out last night that Miss Hudson planned to attend the nine-thirty service at church hadn’t been great news.
Not only did that mean she wouldn’t be sleeping in, but it meant sitting in a church service for the first time in years.
He couldn’t even count on keeping his brain occupied with his job, since scanning a crowd of parishioners all focused on the pastor wasn’t altogether taxing.
Seeing her riled up in the car afterward had been the best part of the morning. If she knew how cute she was, all annoyed like that, she probably wouldn’t work so hard at it.
She handed each of them several of the freshly printed pages. “My schedule, you asked.”
He furrowed his brow as he took one. “For the next month?”
“This week.” She turned her attention to the copy in her hand. “Okay. Tomorrow, I have a prayer breakfast with the board of Lend a Hand Charities at seven sharp at the Statesman Club. Following that, I have a nine o’clock meeting with my current client’s former defense team.”
Now wide awake, he looked up at her, over at Trevor staring wide-eyed at the computer-generated, seven-page schedule, then over to Paul, who shook his head back at him.
“I have a lunch date after that, main dining room at the country club. Following that, I’m heading to the office, and at three-thirty, I’m meeting with my investigator to go over our strategy for our current case.
I’ll need to leave the office by five because I have a dinner party fundraiser at the home of Shawn and Rebecca Cantrell, the sponsors for this year’s Save the Children charity ball coming up in February.
Hors d'oeuvres are at seven with dinner served at eight, and I’m not leaving without at least seventy-five thousand in pledges, if I have anything to say about it. ”
Colton dropped his hands and schedule in his lap. “And this is only tomorrow?”
“Right.” She flipped to the next page. “Now, on to Tuesday. I’m meeting the girls at six-thirty for our weekly Bible study at Holy Grounds Coffee downtown, followed by spin class at the fitness center next door.
We work out every Tuesday and Thursday at seven-thirty.
I’ll be going to the office after that, then I have a three o’clock meeting at—”
“Hold up.” He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and not a little irritated at the way this woman had confounded him. “Why didn’t you tell us all this last night?”
“You didn’t ask until today.”
He had to give her that one. He’d never considered her days would be spent doing anything of substance. Guess he should’ve given that file sitting on the bedside table down the hall a little attention.
“Do you know how much prep we need to do before you can even set foot out the door tomorrow?” He stood to face her, frustrated that he’d broken his number one rule: Never.
Assume. And now they were playing catch-up because he’d completely misread his client.
Church this morning hadn’t been a concern since Petersen had previously conducted a security assessment for the elder Hudsons, and their driver was also a certified security specialist. Having a fourth set of eyes and additional expertise on hand made this morning’s trek a non-issue.
But this? A whole other can of worms.
She cocked her head. “No. Why?”
“Because we don’t know how many others are aware you’re expected at the Statesman for breakfast, the country club for lunch, or when you’ll be going into the office. I didn’t even know you had an office.”
Her chin came up in defense. “I’m an attorney specializing in overturning sentences for the wrongfully imprisoned.”
“Regardless.” But impressive, nonetheless. How had he made such a rookie mistake? “We haven’t checked out the building or anybody who might have access to you there. And we don’t know if your lunch date told anybody he was meeting you.”
“Graham.”
“And what about this Graham? We’ll have to do a full background on him.”
She laughed out loud. “Graham Harding?” Her eyes danced with unconcealed mirth, increasing his irritation. “Of the Fort Worth Hardings?”
“I don’t care.” His ire rose by the second, although he was more angry with himself than at her.
This was her life, the way she lived it.
She quite obviously did it well, and he’d drastically underestimated her.
“He gets close to you only after we’ve vetted him.
We’ll also need to check out the home where the party’s being held—entrances, security measures, attendees, everything. ”
He swung his gaze to Trevor, still seated in his chair, snapping photos of each page of the schedule with his encrypted cell phone. “You sending those over to Mack?”
“Mack and Tech Ops.” Trevor’s thumbs moved frantically over the phone’s screen.
They needed to get people working yesterday on reconnaissance and background checks.
Pulling building blueprints and checking for unsecured entrances or other ingress points someone might exploit if they were determined.
Contacting the Cantrells’ security team, mapping out routes.
A good two or three days of work that they now had mere hours to complete.
Granted, he was handed this detail less than twenty-four hours ago, but he’d still dropped the ball by not getting Tech Ops on it last night. He might’ve been exhausted, but there was no excuse for such a gross oversight on his part.
“The coffee shop and gym are too public. Let’s move the Bible study and workout here. Can you arrange that with your friends?”
She stared at him for a second, and he prepared himself for an argument. Instead, she sighed and crossed her arms. “I think that’ll work. Fran’s office is about thirty minutes from here, and Barb’s about twenty. Avery telecommutes, so she should be fine with it.”
Paul held up his phone. “I’ll call Transportation. Get them working on routes.”
“Thanks, Jamison. Start with various routes from the estate to the office so we can change it up every day.”
“On it.” He turned toward the door with his phone to his ear. “Dillon, hey, man, I need you to pull everybody in right now.” His voice trailed off as he moved down the hall.
She plopped back down in the chair behind the desk.
“Mr. Blankenship, really. This is all so unnecessary. You’ll be with me in the morning for breakfast. We can even go in a back entrance if it makes you feel better.
The office where I’m meeting the defense team has a metal detector at the door, so security is tight there.
As for lunch, you practically need security clearance from the Pentagon to get into the club.
I’ll even let you taste my food if you want. To make sure it’s not poisoned.”
He glared at her. “Not necessary.”
“As for the dinner party, the Cantrells have an entire security staff, the drive is gated, it’s invitation-only so if you have no invite, you don’t get in.
And as for who was invited, I can assure you it’s the cream of Houston society.
Where do you think we expect to get all that money?
They’ll probably have their entire detail on duty.
Please. Call their head guy. I’m sure he’ll put you at ease.
In fact, I’ll probably be so safe under their roof, you guys can have the night off. ”
“Not going to happen, Miss Hudson. We go with you. We stay with you.”
She shrugged and sat up to fold her arms on top of the desk. “Suit yourself. Got a tux?”