Chapter 27
There was a short line for valet parking when they arrived at the hotel and convention center. The congestion was due to protestors lining the sidewalks. A cluster of handmade signs bobbed above the crowd, their messages hard to read in the fading light.
“Why are they protesting a charity event for a children’s hospital?” Erica asked, bewildered.
“It’s not the event or the cause they’re against but an attendee,” Vince explained as he maneuvered around pedestrians to get into the valet line.
Their chanting could be heard through the rolled-up windows:
PROTECT OUR LAND.
NO PIPELINE.
STOP THE PRICE TAG ON TEXAS.
Tasha leaned forward, peering through the windshield. “They’re right, you know. Burnside has made millions from the oil and gas lobby.”
He glanced at her in the rearview, brows raised.
“We discussed it in my poli-sci class a few weeks ago,” she said with a shrug.
“Is this one of your top causes?” he asked, no cynicism in his tone, just curiosity.
“Saving billionaires from ravaging our earth? Every day,” Tasha replied. “But we’re here for the kids tonight. You’re safe.”
“And the shrimp. I’m starved,” Caleb interjected, opening his door as soon as the car came to a halt.
Tasha sighed and slid out after him.
“Not supporting her charities,” Vince said when they were alone in the car. “The kid loses ground every time he opens his mouth.”
“You don’t seem overly broken up about that.”
“Who? Me?” he asked, glancing at her, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Tash may be slow to catch on, but she always seems to. I’ve learned to stay out of it. The losers always seem to find enough rope to hang themselves without my intervention.”
He opened the door as the valet approached. “Stay there, beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ll come around and get you.”
Erica hid a smile for two reasons: he’d called her beautiful, and she loved seeing him in protective-dad mode around Tasha.
She grasped his hand as he assisted her from the judge’s Mercedes. It moved to the base of her spine as he led her into the convention center’s side entrance. Once inside, the sounds of the protest muted, replaced by the hum of conversation and music spilling into the expansive lobby.
In the main ballroom, crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. Waiters moved through the crowd with trays of champagne. The room was thick with money, politics, and the careful civility of people who understood influence.
There was a short receiving line. Normally, she avoided them. Shaking hands was not her thing, but Vince navigated it expertly. He kept her fingers laced with his, preventing any contact as he introduced her to the organizers, whom he seemed to know well.
They found their table minutes before dinner was served.
Seated between Vince and his mother, with Tasha across from her, she listened as the conversation drifted from the who’s who of Austin society to funny family stories. Margie was warm and quick to laugh. Tasha had clearly inherited her father’s stubborn streak.
A commotion at the door drew attention before it was quelled.
“Friends of yours, sweetheart?” the judge asked, settling into his chair with a cup of coffee after a waiter cleared his plate.
“Anyone interested in saving the planet, absolutely,” Tasha said.
“From pipelines?”
“From politicians,” she corrected.
The judge skewered Caleb with a look. “How do you fall in all of this?”
He froze for a moment. Deer in headlights came to Erica’s mind. Then he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m staying out of this one.”
“Smart young man,” Margie murmured. “Change of topic. How ’bout those Astros?”
She knew what she was doing because the men, clearly Rangers fans, pounced on it.
For a little while, the tension that had followed Vince all evening seemed to fade. When Senator Burnside rose to speak near the end of dinner, it came roaring back.
As polite applause rolled through the room, Tasha groaned and pushed her chair away. “That’s my cue to get some air.”
Her boyfriend followed. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t grab a sign,” Caleb promised before he left.
He watched them go, thoughtful but not overtly worried.
Surprisingly, and much to everyone’s relief, the speeches were brief. Dessert was served. The to-die-for cheesecake that Tasha threatened to become a felon for. Then the band began to play.
As guests drifted toward the dance floor, Vince rose and extended a hand to her. “Dance with me.”
She hesitated. “I’m not very good.”
“No problem. I am,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
“Why am I not surprised?”
She heard Ray and Margie chuckling as he led her away.
The band was excellent, the song slow, thankfully.
He took her in his arms and guided her easily into the rhythm.
In seconds, she stopped worrying about stomping on his toes.
It felt good to be held and to relax into the music.
She looked up to tell him that, but his focus was on the room, not the dance.
“You’re watching the exits,” she murmured.
“Habit.”
“You’re off duty, Ranger.”
“Maybe, but I never am as a dad.”
“Look behind you.”
He moved them through a graceful turn. Not far away, Caleb danced with Tasha, not unskilled as he dipped her.
“I haven’t totally figured him out, but he’s kind of growing on me,” she said, watching as the young couple smiled at one another.
“Yeah,” Vince drawled. “Mold has a tendency to do that.”
“Will any man be good enough for her?”
“Nope.”
His gaze swept the ballroom once more before coming back to her.
“Relax, Lieutenant. It’s a charity gala, not a crime scene.”
He smiled faintly. But he was still alert and didn’t stop tracking.
Across the room, she caught a flash of red. A woman in a sleek crimson gown stopped beside Senator Burnside on the perimeter of the dance floor. Her angle shifted as Vince turned them.
When Erica saw her face, she nearly choked out his name, “Vince. Look.”
He followed her gaze, recognition registering on his face.
“What’s Shannon doing here?” she breathed.
What happened next was nearly invisible. If she hadn’t been watching closely, she would have missed it. Shannon leaned in and pressed an envelope into the senator’s hand.
From the way Vince tensed, he saw it too.
“That can’t be good,” she murmured.
“Maybe not. She works for the senator.”
She went still, missed a step, and he adjusted for it. “That’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
He didn’t answer right away. His attention locked on Burnside, the mysterious envelope now tucked inside his jacket.
“What’s her connection to Kedrov?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” he murmured.
With more questions and this new intrigue, the dance wasn’t nearly as much fun anymore. Soon, the music swelled then ended.
When they exited the dance floor, Erica excused herself. “I’m going to find the ladies’ room.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“That isn’t necessary—”
“I’ll walk you.” His tone left no room for argument.
They crossed the ballroom and into a much quieter hallway together.
Outside the ladies’ room, she turned to him. “I think I’ve got it from here,” she teased. “Are you going to stand guard?”
“Yep.”
She leaned up and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I’ll be two minutes.”
Inside, when the door swung closed behind her, the noise of the crowded ballroom dulled to a hum. She strode through the powder room into the interior where her steps faltered then stopped short. A woman with long auburn hair stood at the sink in a familiar crimson gown.
Their eyes met in the mirror.
“Why are… I… You shouldn’t be here,” she stammered, clearly unsettled by her presence.
She edged closer. “I suspect you shouldn’t be here either.”
“I’m working,” she said, dropping her lipstick into her bag.
“I saw that. But for whom, exactly?”
Shannon tensed, all color draining from her face. “Excuse me,” she said, moving past her. Their shoulders brushed.
It was brief, but enough. Erica braced for what followed.
Fear. Pressure. The sense of being watched. Urgency.
A tightening in her chest that wasn’t hers. And a warning that didn’t come in images so much as instinct.
Then images surfaced—a metal door, a lock, the impression of something or someone behind it. Either way, it was of great importance to Shannon.
“I don’t know what you think you saw,” she said, pulling away. “But you’re wrong.”
She glanced nervously at the door, as if someone might be listening. Then she turned, but instead of leaving, she walked into a stall and all but slammed the door shut.
Erica stood frozen, one thing crystal clear. Shannon was in it deep, and it terrified her.