CHAPTER 28
Nantucket Memorial Airport
No sooner had the cabin door popped open than I saw Oliver’s eager face peeking out. Meg, JP, and Wolf followed, all of them smiling and waving as they trailed down the stairs.
I’d bet they might have had a beer or two during the short flight from Maryland on Dent Air. My team deserved a good trip, and I was happy to see them. We had so much to catch up on.
Without missing a beat, they pulled all their gear, including five heavy-duty gun cases, from the baggage compartment and made their way to the gate.
Seeing Oliver in his flip-flops and vacation clothes made me laugh out loud. His biceps were stretching the sleeves of his pink-and-white-striped polo shirt, while his tree-trunk legs strained the seams of his light-blue Bermuda shorts.
A huge preppy Black dude with a gun on Nantucket—I loved it. He dropped his gear and gave me a bear hug.
Meg was dressed in a pair of old green jeans and a lightweight yellow cotton T-shirt, accessorized by her signature jewelry: a gold cross around her neck and a men’s Rolex Daytona on her wrist. Her sandy hair was tied back with a funky scarf and her classic Ray-Bans made her look like a hip movie star trying to avoid the paparazzi by dressing down. Intimidating and classy.
JP and Wolf were dressed like goofy twins. Neither could seem to shake the CSTC ensemble; both sported matching tactical khaki pants, hiking boots, and light denim shirts, with Oakley sunglasses wrapped around their temples.
Granted, unlike most summer visitors to Nantucket, they didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought. But I resolved to persuade at least one of them to change before we went to the Wilsons’ party.
After the abrupt end to the last Iraq trip, I was sorry the whole band wasn’t together, especially Rudy.
But life gets in the way of fun sometimes.
Soon after learning Team Rhino had to leave Iraq, Rudy had found out about a trauma-medicine symposium he could attend in Dallas.
It never occurred to him to take a vacation when he could be sharpening his medical skills.
As the five of us made our way to the parking lot, an unmarked Cessna Citation landed on the same runway as the Hawker. I saw a large black Cadillac Escalade with smoked windows waiting near the terminal. No alarm bells for now, but I’d keep an eye out.
We loaded the Defender and headed back across the island to my place. I had them all in stitches over the jail story. I told them about meeting Si Wilson, and the little soiree planned for his parents’ house this evening.
As we pulled into my driveway, I caught Wolf’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
“No funny business with Constance Wilson,” I told him.
“I promise to behave myself,” he swore. We’ll see.
I saw the guard detail at the senator’s house looking over at us. It didn’t strike me as a huge defensive showing—more of an overt display of power should one of the neighbors get drunk and decide to pay the senator a visit.
“Leave the guns in the car for a second,” I cautioned. “I better go let them know you’re here.”
Nobody gave my words a second thought. They just pulled a cooler out of the back and headed inside as I walked over to give Rowan’s crew a heads-up on my guests.
There were three agents on the perimeter out front.
The peaked roof afforded no perch for a sniper.
I figured there were probably one or two inside the house, as well as a few in back and maybe a couple on the beach.
No doubt the rest of the team was either roaming the area or hanging out back in town, waiting for the next shift.
I immediately recognized the agent who had cockblocked me last night, so I gave him a wave.
He said a few words into his communication mouthpiece and walked toward me.
I told him I was hosting a few guests for the weekend; in the interest of being a good neighbor, I wanted to keep Uncle Sam informed.
The front door opened and Rowan headed in our direction. I noticed her looking at my house, where I caught all four of my misfits laughing. She gave me a glare.
“You didn’t tell me you’d invited weekend guests. Do they have guns too?”
It wasn’t a friendly question. She was pissed off. If there was a hint of intimacy left over from last night, it wasn’t registering on my radar.
“Actually, I did tell you about my guests the other day. And yes, they all are carrying guns—legitimately licensed, I might add.”
This set her off completely.
“Why the fuck would you have four people with guns here tonight? Of all nights, Nat—why this night? For Chrissake, do you have any idea what a pain in my ass this is going to be? Thanks a whole fucking lot, Nat.”
She was practically spitting at me.
“Hey—what the hell, Rowan? Calm the fuck down. The guns are locked up, and I will put them in my safe with all the rest.”
Her look of surprise registered immediately. She didn’t know I had a gun safe inside. Score one for the good guys, I thought.
“You won’t even know they’re here, because they won’t be. We’re going to a party over at the Wilsons’ tonight. What kind of shit day are you having, anyway?”
She exhaled and looked back at the house.
“Everyone around here, especially that dickhead Fitzgerald, has lost their collective shit over Harrison’s stupid party tonight. You wouldn’t believe the way he’s ordering us around.” She quickly regrouped. “I apologize, Nat. I’m really not a lunatic psycho. I swear.”
The intimacy made its way back onto the radar.
“Listen, why don’t you come over tonight when everything is done and have a beer with us? They’re great people and you’ll like them. Trust me.” We were standing in the open, so I couldn’t give her a hug. “I’ll let you wear my shirt again.”
Rowan smiled at that, which gave me a window to step back and offer my hand. As she shook it I said, “Have fun today—and I’ll see you whenever.” Then I turned as quickly as I could and walked back toward my house.