“Before you do anything else, you have reports to write, and if you don’t…” she tsked.
“I’m heading to my office right now to get them done.”
“Good, because I promised them today, and it tarnishes my reputation when I don’t come through.”
“So you don’t care if I’m in the shithouse. You just don’t want to be in there with me?”
“You’re such a quick learner, James Cullen.” She patted his cheek. “Paul said you’re going out of town again. Where to?”
JC stepped around to the other side of her desk and thumbed through the documents in her outbox, stalling. There was nothing in the stack for him because Becky always put his correspondence on his chair, which forced him to look at it before he could sit down.
“North Dakota, I think,” he said, “but I’ll be out of pocket.”
“How long?”
“A couple of weeks.”
She rolled up the ribbon, put it inside the box, and dropped the box into her oversize handbag. “As long as you write your reports, no one will care.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I promise.”
“Can I get the same commitment to call your mother? She doesn’t believe I give you her messages.”
JC scrolled through his texts, relieved there weren’t any unanswered ones from Becky or his mom. “Good. That means she’s mad at you, not me.”
“Come on, JC. Be nice. She’s your mother, and she worries.”
“She wants me to find a nice girl, settle down in Kentucky, and start producing grandchildren. It’s not going to happen.”
“Maybe you should tell her what you’re doing.”
JC took a step backward as if Becky’s words had shoved him. “Are you kidding? You think she worries now…”
“Well, she seems like a lovely woman, and she’s always kind to me.”
“If she ever gives you any trouble—”
Becky pushed up her sleeves and folded her arms. “Meredith Montgomery doesn’t scare me.”
“Paul’s terrified of her.”
“No, he’s not. They have a thing.” A muscle in the otherwise delicate line of her jaw twitched. She was trying not to laugh at him.
“A thing? What’s that supposed to mean?” A pang unfolded in his chest, swift and deep—and completely unexpected. He loved his parents, but he didn’t want them to worry.
“They’re tight. Paul gives her just enough information to keep her from coming to Washington. And if Elliott Fraser ever storms in here looking for you, I’m running in the opposite direction. I’ve heard about his temper.”
JC’s chin dropped. “From whom?”
“Seriously? Just google ‘Elliott Fraser’s temper’ and see what you find.”
JC shook his head. “I don’t have to google it. I’ve seen it.”
She shooed him away. “Get to work. He’s not showing up here today.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Not a promise, but it’s the best I can do.”
His brother would give him a heads-up if his dad headed in this direction. That meant JC had enough time to get out of Washington and find Ensley before his dad started kicking down doors.
He entered his corner office and sat down at his rolltop desk—no glass and chrome for him. Antiques, leather, and centuries-old law books set the tone of the wide-windowed room.
For the next few hours, he wrote detailed After Action Reports, encrypted them, and emailed them to his handler. Then he returned to Becky’s desk. “It’s all done. You shouldn’t get any grief from anyone except Mom. And if she calls, tell her I’ll be in Kentucky next week.”
Becky glanced up from her computer. “You tried that last time, James Cullen, and then didn’t show up. She won’t buy that excuse again.”
“Well… Tell Mom I have to be in Richmond next week and will meet her at Mallory Plantation.”
“You already said you’d be gone at least two weeks, and you used that excuse the last time you promised to visit Kentucky.”
JC scratched the back of his head. “Tell her this time I will be at the plantation, and if I don’t show up, she can disown me.”
Becky cleared her throat. “She’s already done that, dear.”
He snatched a piece of peppermint candy from the glass dish on Becky’s desk. “Then hell, what am I worrying about?” He popped the candy in his mouth and tossed the wrapper. “Just tell her I’ll be in Richmond. And don’t take any crap off her.”
“I never do.”
JC laughed. “See ya.” He grabbed his hat and left the office to the sound of Becky’s chuckles.
As he strolled toward his black Rolls-Royce Wraith parked alone at the back of the lot, he gave his mind permission to wander for a few seconds. Cars, horses, cigars, and fine whisky were his indulgences. He worked hard, played hard, and in between tried to save the world while perpetuating his wealthy playboy persona. Those who knew his dad during his philandering days would see similarities, and that was what JC wanted.
He tossed the hat he never wore into the back seat.
His mind was unsettled, and he had just enough time to clear it before he went after Ensley. A long run would help, but right now, the smartest thing to do would be to find a quiet place to meditate and identify potential complications in his plan. There were a handful of DC locations where he could sit quietly, soak up nature, and listen for his angel. Kristen didn’t speak to him often, but before he tackled anything, he opened his heart to hear her if she thought he needed a few words of wisdom.
Since the first time she came to him in a Napa cave more than a decade ago, she’d gotten him out of a half dozen tight situations. Kristen was Uncle Cullen’s late sister, who died as a child. Why she picked JC to haunt, he wasn’t sure, but he was glad to have her in his head, in his heart.
“So, where should we go today, Kristen?” She
