A Cold Dark Promise (Cold Justice #8.5)(19)
Alex picked the label off his beer. He was quiet. Too quiet. Finally he asked, “What about the girl?”
Frazer let a smile curve his lips. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re here for, right?”
“Yep.” There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere as Alex relaxed. “Her life probably isn’t in immediate danger, which is the only good news about this mess.”
“How’s Jane Sanders holding up?” Frazer asked.
“Like TNT on a short fuse.”
“Where is she?”
“Back at the chateau wearing out the carpet. I have a man watching her.”
Killion raised his beer in another toast. “So, all we need to do is rescue the child, identify the players, secure the weapon, and scoop the bad guys up without anyone getting hurt?”
Frazer rolled his shoulders. “And get home in time for the wedding.”
“Piece of cake,” Killion murmured quietly.
“Let’s do it,” Alex said. “Let’s go stop these bastards.”
Chapter Eleven
Mallory tried to let go of the tension that invaded her whole being as she fought rush hour traffic in DC after a long day examining the victims of kidnappers, rapists, and murderers.
“Breathe,” she told herself, and felt the phantom of Alex’s smile whisper against her skin.
She missed him.
She was pathetic, but she hated him going away like this.
It was wrong of her. She insisted he give her the space do her job, but now that it was his turn to leave her behind she wasn’t quite so emphatic about this independence business.
He’d be home soon.
Rex grinned at her in doggy reassurance via the rearview from his position in the backseat. He’d fully recovered from the gunshot wound he’d suffered back in February but, not surprisingly, he didn’t like loud noises. He’d come with her to the spa for the weekend, and she’d picked him up from the condo in Quantico before driving back to DC tonight for what she hoped was the last time as a single woman.
“Who’s a good boy?”
He panted in happy acknowledgment as he looked out of the window.
There’d been a floral emergency.
Mallory rolled her eyes, grateful she wasn’t the sort of person who’d lose it over the color of the flowers in her bouquet. Her mother considered this a minor disaster. Mal didn’t give a fig. She’d carry a nosegay of dandelions if necessary, but she was trying to make this wedding perfect for her parents, and they weren’t making it easy. First had been the guest list with way too many politicians for Alex’s comfort. Then issues over the menu and the cake. They’d added a sponge layer to the cake and a vegetarian option to the menu. It wasn’t rocket science. Honestly, Mallory had no clue why people made such a fuss.
It had already been a long day. She and Moira Henderson had been the only ones in the office. Moira had taken advantage of this short window of opportunity to unleash as much spite on Mal as possible in the time she had left before Mallory’s leave started.
Mallory had learned to filter out Moira’s particular brand of venom, and the woman only revealed her true colors when they were alone, which was rare. Jed Brennan was back in the office tomorrow, and she’d be safe from any overt hostility. You’d think hunting serial killers would be enough ugliness for Moira, but apparently not.
Uncomfortable with sitting for so long with the steering wheel so close to her baby bump she shifted and rubbed her aching back with one hand.
She’d underestimated the amount of work left to do before the wedding, but it was all small details. Maybe she should have taken the whole week off, but she was saving her vacation days for the honeymoon and didn’t want to piss off the powers-that-be by taking unpaid leave when she was so close to going on a long maternity leave. She was taking Friday off for a manicure and pedicure and facial treatment with her bridesmaids. The wedding planner should be able to cope with all the other minor details that cropped up.
Seriously. A minister. A groom. Some food and maybe some dancing and she’d be happy. Actually, Alex home safe and she’d be happy.
The baby gave her a sharp kick.
“I’m including you in that thought, junior.”
Rex woofed in reply.
They didn’t know the sex of the baby and didn’t want to know until he or she arrived. The new nursery was neutral in color with yellow walls, pale wooden furniture and white trim.
Mal took a right towards her mother’s ridiculously large home.
It was hard to imagine she and Alex would soon be responsible for a child. Alex was installing as much security as a private home could handle—his version of nesting. There had already been a wall around the property. Now electronic lasers and touchpad sensors monitored the grounds and the buildings. The house had a panic room, sprinklers, steel doors, and bulletproof glass in all the windows. It had cost a fortune to install that without sacrificing the character of their Victorian house and that had been her one stipulation. They could live in a fortress, but it had to look like a home.
The upgrades gave Alex something to focus on when he started to worry about what kind of father he’d be. Security was something he could control to a certain point—beyond that no one could control anything. Making these basic precautions allowed him to relax, and she knew he was going to need that cushion when the baby arrived.