CHAPTER 61
Courville Estate
Si Wilson recognized the woman standing at the door as his neighbor Elise Courville, Senator Harrison’s wife. Her face was bruised and her blouse ripped.
“Hello,” she managed as if in great pain.
“Hello, Mrs. Harrison. I’m Josiah Wilson. I live just over there.” Si pointed.
“Yes, I know who you are. I know your parents too, though not well.”
“Rowan and I—that is, Agent Anderson and I—are here to keep you safe until my boss arrives with more security people.”
“Thank you, Josiah. That makes me feel better. How much danger is there?”
“Um, I really don’t know,” he said. Never moving from the open doorway, Si looked around for Rowan Anderson, averting his eyes from the two bodies on the floor. He didn’t know what had happened. Had the Secret Service agent stopped those terrorists from raping the senator’s wife?
The sound of footsteps on the stairs broke through Si’s trance of fear and uncertainty. Anderson appeared with a couple of blankets to cover the corpses.
Much better, Si thought to himself.
“Si, I’m going to sit with Mrs. Harrison. Why don’t you close the front door, take this, and walk around inside the place—make sure it’s safe and secure.”
The agent held out a Glock by the barrel, allowing Si to grab it by the grip. He pulled the slide back to inspect the magazine for ammo. Displaying the basics he’d learned from Nat and Team Rhino was a confidence boost. The pistol felt good in his hand.
Satisfied, he nodded. Si Wilson was ready to begin his patrol. He decided to start with the grand living room, its magnificent Atlantic vista much like the view from his own house—or it would be, he assumed, were it not still the middle of the night.
Surveillance would do little to keep any bad guys out, he knew, but he had his orders. He was checking the window locks when he saw a flash of movement on the bluff. Possibly someone who’d earlier walked down to the beach to look for traces of the ferry explosion now all over the local newsgroups.
Whoever it was didn’t seem to be heading this way, but Nat had told him that writing down observations was important. Si reached into his pocket for his phone and its Notes app, only to find that he’d drained the battery.
He’d report the sighting to Anderson instead.
Si found the Secret Service agent and Senator Harrison’s wife deep in what seemed to be a hushed but serious conversation. The two women appeared pissed off at each other; both were gesturing intensely with their hands.
“See anything?” Anderson asked as Si approached. “Are we good?”
“A guy walking up the bluff, but nothing else,” Si said. “All the windows are locked. I still need to check the back door and the garage.”
Without waiting for an answer, he walked back through the living room, stepping over the blanketed bodies, and entered the kitchen, where he spied Anderson’s cell phone lying next to a charger.
He plugged in his own phone, then continued to the mudroom.
All secure. He marched to the rear of the house and reached for the backdoor knob.
He had just touched the handle when he heard the distinct sound of gunfire and shattering glass.