“We’re not throwing out the cigars,” David said.
“You don’t have to.”
Penny dumped the garbage in the outside trashcan then went back in for her stuff. “Who’s got the key?”
“I do,” Rick said. “I’ll lock up and cancel the limo.” He took care of the door, sent a text to the driver, then grabbed her suitcase and shoved it in the back of the van. “Anything else?” His brows arched over the frames of his aviators.
“No, that’s it. Let’s go,” David said.
Rick and David origamied their way into the back of the van, bookending Penny and Kenzie, who squashed together to give the guys more room. Once the doors slammed, Remy peeled out of the driveway.
Like an itch beneath her skin that she couldn’t quite reach to scratch, Penny knew this shitshow was far from over. They’d reached a T. Rex moment? The paddock was open, and the monster was on the loose.
She snuggled into Rick’s side, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, whispering, “I’ve got your six, babe.”
She gazed up at him and mouthed. “I’ve got yours.”
64
Mallory Plantation, Richmond, VA—Penny
Two black Suburbans were waiting on the apron at the Chesterfield County Airport outside Richmond, Virginia, when the Montgomery Winery jet landed. With everyone lost in their thoughts, it had been a quiet flight out of New Orleans. Penny spent the two hours dozing off and on, snuggled in Rick’s arms on the divan at the rear of the plane. She was already so accustomed to the weight of him around her that when he wasn’t there, she felt untethered, a bit lost.
As soon as the engines shut down, she hurried to the lavatory to freshen up. Yikes. Her lips were swollen, and the skin around them was pink, scraped by Rick’s beard. She applied makeup to cover the worst of the burns and emerged from the bathroom to find him standing there.
“You okay?”
She pointed at her chin. “If we’re going to have make-out sessions, maybe you should shave.”
He skirted his finger around her lips. “Nope. I want everyone to know what we’re doing.”
She smacked his arm. “Why? It makes us look like horny teenagers.”
He kissed her softly. “That’s the way I feel. And it’ll be the test of time to see if I can last longer than fifteen seconds the first time I thrust inside you.”
He was killing her. They were both convinced it would happen, but the question was still when? They always had their hands on each other, and she was already very comfortable with him, but she didn’t want to make love and have it be a disaster. That would be worse than waiting.
“Don’t guys have tricks to use?”
“There’s not a damn trick out there that’ll slow me down once you give me the green light.”
She patted his cheek. “I think we’re setting ourselves up for a huge letdown.”
His eyebrows hiked up almost to his hairline. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
“You know,” she sighed. “I had a sexual relationship when I was twenty with a guy my age. Neither one of us had much experience. The next year, that asshole raped me, and now, almost fifteen years later, my sex life hasn’t amounted to much. The men who sexually assaulted me have screwed up my mind. I don’t think about it when I’m kissing you, but I don’t know if that comfort will transfer to other things we want to do.”
As soon as his lazy half-grin curled, so did her toes. “Well, babe. We’ll round one base at a time. How’s that?”
“When you give me that sexy grin, all’s right with my world.”
He glanced out one of the windows. “Let’s go. They’re waiting for us. We can finish this conversation later while we practice rounding another base.”
“The future ain’t what it used to be,” she said, gathering her purse and computer bag.
He laughed. “Since you’re throwing out Yogiisms, I know you’ll get along great with Amy Mallory.”
They climbed down the airstairs built into the clamshell-style door and stepped onto the tarmac. “Who’s in the Suburbans?” she asked.
“Looks like Braham’s in one. Jack Mallory’s in the other.”
“Jack Mallory? Like…Jack Mallory, the New York Times best-selling author?”
“That’s him.”
“Wow! I’m impressed. Is he a cousin too?”
“We can draw a squiggly line between us. The two-times-great-aunt of James MacKlenna, the founder of MacKlenna Farm in Kentucky, moved to Ulster and married Michael Mallory. His son came to America in the early 1600s and founded Mallory Plantation.”
“And the land has stayed in the family for more than four hundred years?”
“Yep. Amazing, huh?”
“So, where do the O’Gradys fit in?”
“Through James MacKlenna. He impregnated a Fraser daughter, and she had a son. Elliott’s line comes through her, as does the O’Grady line. My mother was a Fraser, Elliott’s very distant cousin.”
“I thought Meredith was somehow related?”
“Kit MacKlenna Montgomery is the founder of Montgomery Winery and is Meredith’s five-times-great-grandmother. Kit is also Elliott’s goddaughter. And if that seems wildly confusing, that’s because it is. She went back in time to 1852 and spent thirty years in the past. She and her husband, Cullen, now live at MacKlenna Farm part-time and here part-time. Braham and Cullen have been best friends since they were kids. They immigrated together and went to Harvard Law School.
“And the kids love their stories. Ever since the kids discovered that Braham was a Major in the Union cavalry and a secret agent for President Lincoln, they hang on every word he says. To them, he’s a real, live hero.”
“It must be hard for those of you who served in Afghanistan to reach hero status with the kids when you have to compete with Braham.”
“Are you kidding? We don’t even try. We’d crash and burn if we did.”
“You’re right. There’s something about Braham that’s almost otherworldly.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“So, how the hell do you keep all the family history straight?”
“When the O’Gradys joined the MacKlenna Clan and went to work as VPs of global security, we had classes about everything—wines, Thoroughbred breeding and racing, and genealogy. Meredith and Elliott wouldn’t let any of us represent the family until we passed a test.”
“I could pass a fitness test without much training, but figuring out this family would take some serious work.” She sighed. “I’ll never remember it all, but for starters, Braham is married to Jack’s sister, Charlotte?”
“Right.”
“And Braham came forward in time.”
“Right. And Jack is married to Amy Spalding-Mallory. She’s a sportscaster for ESPN.”
“So, two families live on Mallory Plantation?”
“Four, soon to be five with the Fontenots.”
Penny slapped her forehead.
“Elizabeth and Matt Kelly have a house there, along with their daughter Amber and her family.”
“It’s like a small Southern town.” Penny stopped a minute and looked up at Rick. “I wonder if I should leave blue-haired Penny behind? She might not fit in so well on a Virginia plantation.”
“Babe, your hair’s not blue now, and you don’t need to be anyone other than who you are.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I’m not really sure who I am.”
“You’ll know when you meet Jack. He’s…well…be prepared.”
Braham stood by an open tailgate already full of luggage and computer bags. “Welcome to Virginia.” He kissed Penny’s cheek. Then he turned to the man exiting the other Suburban. “This is my brother-in-law Jack Mallory.”
Penny gasped. My God, he’s gorgeous.
“Jack, this is—”
She extended her arm to shake his hand, clearing her throat. “Billie Malone, and it’s a pleasure to meet you…” She almost added “sir” at the end.
>
Without batting an eye, Jack kissed both her cheeks and said, “I’ve heard amazing things about you, Billie. Welcome to Virginia.”
Oh, my God. What a voice.
Rick whispered, “Should I be jealous?”
Unable to speak, she nodded. Jack’s movie-star persona sent a sizzling shock on a fast path through Penny’s veins, and her fingers tingled where he’d touched her. Man!
Rick whispered, “I’m bigger than he is.”
Bigger? Shit!
She clamped her teeth on her lower lip to keep from laughing, then managed to whisper back, “Don’t you know size doesn’t matter?”
He dropped his head back with a belly laugh, and when he got himself under control, he wiped his eyes. “Damn. How come I don’t believe that?”
She clamped down on her lip again and thankfully was saved by Kenzie when she threw a thumb over her shoulder toward Rick. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s stuck in the moonstruck stage.”
Jack bumped knuckles with Rick. “Congrats, man. We’re all happy for you.”
Rick gazed at her. “I’m happy for me, too.” Then he whispered, “Just as long as you show up in my bed, I’m fine with whatever name you want to use.”
It felt right to step back into Billie’s shoes. Penny was raw and real and a blue-haired superhero, but she wasn’t sustainable in Billie’s everyday life, not around a plantation full of polite Southerners…or even her senior citizen clients in Napa, who would have a collective heart attack if she yelled “fuck.”
She huffed out a soft, humorless laugh. She adapted to California years ago, and she could adapt again. Reclaiming Billie’s persona didn’t mean she would—or could—ignore Penny. She’d find a way to incorporate her into Billie’s life, and if Penny only surfaced in bed with Rick, or while riding her Kawasaki or going on other adventures, it might be enough.
Maybe. The thought nagged at her, but she didn’t take the time to consider why.
David and Remy carried the two chests to Jack’s vehicle. “Let’s go, Jack. I want to get this shit into the clean room,” David said.
“Remy and I will ride with ye,” Elliott said.
Elliott had climbed partway down off the wall during the flight, but only by a step or two, and still had several more to go. Maybe once they opened the chests, he’d jump to the bottom. Penny hadn’t spent much time with him, but as stressed as he was right now—and at his age—he could easily have a stroke.
“Rick and I’ll get the rest of the gear and meet ye there,” Braham said. “Don’t open the chests yet.”
Jack sped away, leaving Billie with an accelerated pulse and no rational explanation for it. She was safe, surrounded by a handful of warriors. And so far, all the MacKlenna men she’d met were larger than life. Together they could handle those ancient warriors in her nightmares, or whatever evil was awaiting them.
“You didn’t meet Jack and Amy at the gala, did you?” Rick asked.
“The World Series was going on at the time, and someone mentioned that Amy was in the press box. I didn’t know who they were talking about.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Rick said.
Braham backed his vehicle up to the plane, and, working together, they got all the gear loaded and were speeding off the airport property within fifteen minutes of Jack’s departure.
When Braham turned into the entrance of Mallory Plantation, she had an eerie sense of another time slip, but this time to the 1860s. The tree-lined drive leading to a stately mansion was breathtaking.
“Straight ahead is the original homeplace, where Jack and Amy live with their three kids,” Braham said. “Ye’ll meet them all later.” He turned onto another tree-lined drive leading to another mansion, not as old, but just as stately. “Off that road,” he said, passing another driveway, “ye’ll find Elizabeth and Matt’s residence, and Amber and Daniel’s, and close to them is the library and resource center.”
He drove up to the front of the mansion. “Off to the left is the barn. We have a dozen horses, and ye’re welcome to ride anytime. We have several hundred acres, and the ride along the river early in the morning or at dusk is very relaxing. I highly recommend it. We also have a gym and a yoga studio. And if there’s anything we don’t have, Amazon will deliver it the next day.”
Rick chuckled. “It’s true. This place is like a five-star hotel, and if you want something a little rustic, there’s a cabin with a hot tub, gourmet kitchen, fireplace, shower the size of a bedroom, and a king-size bed.”
Billie laughed. “Do you rent it out?”
“No, but there’s a waiting list,” Braham said, “usually double-booked around the holidays.”
“How many bedrooms do you have?”
“In the mansion? Twelve suites. Six on each side. And most of the time they’re full.”
“I can see why. Where are the Fontenots staying?”
“They wanted the cabin, but Charlotte said no. She wants Rhona to stay close by while she’s receiving treatment. And she thought ye and Rick would enjoy the cabin until ye had yer procedure. Then she wants ye in the mansion.”
“I got a text that the procedure is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Do you know what time?” Billie asked.
“Ye have to be there by seven in the morning. Charlotte will have all the details when she gets home tonight after rounds.”
Billie’s head was on a swivel, looking out one side of the vehicle, then the other. The grounds were immaculate, landscaped to perfection. “Who else is here now?”
“Yer crew, Pete and Sophia and their kids, Meredith, and the McBain kids. They all came in yesterday.”
“Are you serious about the cabin?” Rick asked.
David glanced at Rick. “What? Ye don’t want it?”
“Are you kidding? I went on a tour after you built it, but I’ve never been given the key before.”
“Well, ye have it for two nights.”
“Hot damn.” Rick squeezed Billie’s hand. “Unless you’d rather stay in the big house.”
“I think the big house will be distracting with the gazillion adults and kids.”
“It’s organized chaos.” Braham pulled the vehicle to a stop. “We’ll leave the gear and suitcases here for now.”
“Where’s the clean room?” Billie asked.
“In the basement,” Rick said. “It’s a home version of the basement in the Federal Reserve Bank in New York. Braham doesn’t have that much gold, but there’s a significant amount, plus the jewels. It would be a high-value target if anyone ever discovered it existed.”
“I didn’t see much security coming in. How do you keep the grounds protected?” she asked.
“They’re monitored continuously. If anyone comes in uninvited, all sorts of alarms will go off, from the river to the highway. We decided not to use security fences and gates because we didn’t want the plantation to feel like a fortress.”
Billie entered the house and stepped into another world. There were more square feet in the foyer—complete with a Monticello-type dome room with large, circular windows and oculus skylight—than in her entire townhome.
“I’ve been in some beautiful homes, and yours has an interesting mix of modern and historical, but most of all it feels lived in and very warm.”
“Braham designed and helped build it,” Rick said.
“I thought you were a lawyer,” she said.
“I’m a lot of things—vintner, farmer, teacher, and writer,” Braham said.
“Plus cigar aficionado and blogger,” Rick added.
“Ah,” Braham said. “Maybe my most important title, after husband and father, but titles shouldn’t limit anyone in what they do with their life. Like ye, Billie. Ye’re much more than a veteran and a caterer and event planner. Yer reputation in Napa outside of yer business is one of a community organizer, a senior citizen companion to shut-ins, and an environmental activist. Shall I go on?”
“That’s enough.” Braham had done extensive research.
He had to have gone back several years to collect all that intel. “So tell me about the house,” she said, moving the conversation back to him.
“Building it took awhile. I kept finding elements and embellishments to add that pissed off my contractor. And I dragged it out so I’d have something to do while Charlotte was saving lives at the hospital, and I was still adjusting to living in this time.” He headed toward a door under the sweep of stairs on the right side of the foyer. “We’ll go this way.”
Braham led the way down the steps to an all-purpose room with large windows that looked out over a pool, garden, and the James River. There was a theater at one end and a game room at the other, and in the middle was a full-service kitchen and bar.
“There are bathrooms at both ends of the room, but there’s a pool house with a kitchen and bathroom on the other side of the pool.” Braham stepped over to a panel on the wall. “The clean room has a retinal scanner. Everyone in the family is in the retinal scan biometric system, and David will add ye today. It can identify anyone in the system within seconds.”
He looked into the screen, and a door whooshed open.
Inside was a miniature version of the all-purpose room. They followed Braham to the opposite side, where there was another retinal scanner. After he looked into the panel, that door whooshed open as well.
Holy shit.
The brightly lit clean room was the size of a basketball half-court. Along one wall were closets and cabinets with glass doors. Several of them held weapons from the seventeenth century to the twenty-first, while others had racks of clothes from various eras. At the far end was a monster safe and a long row of monitors showing live feeds from multiple locations. She recognized Montgomery Winery and Mallory Plantation, but not the others. A dozen security cameras were placed throughout, covering every inch of the room.
In the middle stood a ten-foot-long stainless steel table. The two treasure chests sat on the table, looking small in the vast room. Around the table stood Elliott, David, Kenzie, Remy, and Jack, all wearing buttoned white lab coats.
“Gown up,” David said. “We’re about to start.”
Billie’s head spun. She’d never been inside a high-security facility before, but they must be similar to this. “Why the gowns?”
The Topaz Brooch Page 72