by Kris Calvert
“You want to confront those men who are on your list, I know you Mac. You won’t be able to restrain yourself.”
I kissed her neck and stood, walking back to my valet to dress. “I don’t have a choice Sam. Secretary Molloy has given me a direct order. Nothing happens until she speaks with the president and certainly nothing will happen tonight.”
“And you’re going to follow that order?” she asked, turning to face the mirror once more to place a pearl and diamond earring in her ear.
“I’m gonna do my damnedest, darlin.”
She looked at me in the reflection and forced a smile. “Has Timms left to pick up the others from Mimi’s?”
I nodded and she stood at once, dropping her robe to stand in front of me in a lacy pink bra with no straps, matching panties and pale pink pumps. I let out an audible and uncontrolled moan. “Damn, baby.”
She fought it, but her lipstick covered mouth couldn’t help but to curl into a smile—the smile that lit my fire every damn time. I always said it was the sexiest curve on her body.
I struggled to get myself packed into my pants after gazing at my wife’s beauty for only a moment and turned my back on her to face the light of a nearby lamp. I was struggling to button the stiffly starched shirt but knew Samantha would help me out. I spun around to playfully ask if she would dress me only to find her gone—disappearing into the walk-in closet.
“Sweetheart?” I called to her. “My big fingers are having trouble with these tight buttons. Will you help your helpless hus—” I couldn’t finish my sentence. Seeing her dressed in that pink ball gown overcame me like a rogue wave crashing on the beach. I knew it was coming, but I had no idea how overwhelming it would be when it happened. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was truly the luckiest man in the world to have Samantha as my one and only.
“I’ll help you with your shirt, if you’ll do me up,” she said, coyly turning her bare shoulder to me.
I kissed her squarely between her shoulder blades, unable to control myself, while blindly zipping up the heavy satin material. “I could live a thousand lifetimes and never lay my eyes on anything more beautiful than you.”
“So you’re saying you like the dress?” She turned to face me.
“Baby, I love everything about you,” I said, pulling her hips to meet mine. “I loved you before I knew you. I loved you the moment we met. I love you today and I’ll love you for every tomorrow we have. I will love you, Samantha Callahan,” I said, lightly kissing her as to not muss her lipstick. “Until I take my dying breath.”
She sighed in my arms and I watched her shoulders drop before she brought her cool fingers to my bruised neck. “Just make sure that’s not tonight.”
“I promise.”
29
SAMANTHA
With one last, fleeting glance, I gave myself the once-over in the full-length mirror before blowing Mac a kiss. Placing his open hand over his heart, he gave a reassuring smile as I left the bedroom. I needed to check with Shelia on the last minute details, but as far as I knew, tonight’s party was filled to the hilt with politicians, Washington insiders, powerful CEO’s and activists—not to mention the Secretary of Homeland Security and the President of the United States. It was all a bit surreal; still, I held it together as I descended the imperial staircase slowly as to not trip on Mimi’s dress. The bustle swished behind me with each step and I felt like a dress of this magnitude deserved an entrance I wasn’t capable of making. The decorated staircase helped, but it wasn’t until I found Boone waiting at the bottom of the stairs smiling that I found the confidence I needed to pull it off.
“Why, Mrs. Callahan,” he drawled. “Such beauty could stop a man’s heart.”
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Boone Henry was a handsome man if he was anything at all. Dressed in a tuxedo cut to fit him like a glove, his wavy hair was slicked back with his signature forelock falling gently on the only two wrinkles on his face—his worry lines. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself tonight.”
Boone craned his neck to see up the stairs. “And Mr. Callahan?”
“He will be down shortly. I wanted to come down early just to make sure Shelia and Agent Martelli were—you know—a go.”
“Everything will come off without a hitch tonight, Samantha. You’ll see.”
I looked past Boone, spying Timms pulling up to the red carpet. “I added another table of guests, Boone. I knew you wouldn’t mind. With the Secretary of State pulling out at the last moment, we had the extra space. You know, less security detail and all.”
He nodded at me, glancing over his shoulder to see the crew from Mimi’s house climb out of the back of the limo. “Yeah, yeah. No problem. Look, I’m going to walk down to the tent and check on a couple of things. If I see Shelia, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”
“Thanks, Boone,” I said, taking his hand in mine to give it a squeeze. “Really, thanks for everything.”
Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kissed my knuckles, never taking his eyes from my face.
“Good evening, Senator Henry.” Mac’s voice boomed from the top of the staircase and I watched my own knight in shining armor hot foot it down the steps.
“Boone,” he corrected.
“Welcome back to Lone Oak, Boone.” Mac gave him a visibly strong handshake before wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me close and kiss my bare shoulder.
“Mac,” I said into his body, “Mimi and the others have arrived.”
“Please excuse me, Boone,” he said, walking onto the red carpet clad front porch to meet them.
“I’ll see you a little later,” Boone whispered before giving me a wink.
With a nod to him, I immediately turned to find the entire crew with the exception of Mimi, whom Mac was carefully escorting up the steps and into the house.
Micah was wearing a simple black chiffon dress with cap sleeves that showed off her tattoos beautifully. Her dark hair was down and the red lipstick she wore contrasted to her milky skin. Frankie wore a full, fifties-style fit and flare with a portrait neckline in peacock blue. Her hair in a ponytail, she looked as if she was on her way to prom—wide-eyed and innocent.
Mimi strolled in wearing the light blue dress she’d hand-picked. Without a cane or her walker, she tilted her head and gave me a smile, causing the diamonds in her ears to sparkle a little brighter.
Agent Fuller took one of her arms and Mac took the other as they walked through the front entrance before sitting her in a chair. Bringing up the rear was Chops, looking like a million dollars in a black tuxedo, black shirt and bow tie, and Rory, wearing the exact opposite—all white—including a top hat.
Mac settled Mimi in then turned to Rory. “Seriously?”
“It’s a metaphor—you know, white hat,” Rory said, formally presenting himself with a ceremonious bow.
Expressionless, Mac deadpanned, “I get it. Where’s your partner in crime?”
“Getting his laptop from the car. He won’t go anywhere without it.”
Parting the crowd like the Red Sea, Elias Warner walked into the room and the ladies smiled—especially Frankie. “You clean up nice, Zeroman,” Mac said, giving him a slap on the back.
Elias dropped his head in embarrassment, but quickly looked up. Frankie hadn’t taken her eyes from him and I let out a little sigh at their honest, young love.
Giving Mac a quick peck on the cheek I whispered, “I need to get down to the tent to double-check on the order of the speakers, honey.” Then, turning to the group I said, “Make yourselves at home. There’s an open bar in the west room that leads to the tent where the party will take place. I’ll see you all a little later.”
I kissed Mimi and she brought her fragile hand to my face, stroking my cheek. “You look lovely Samantha. I’ve never seen that dress look more beautiful than it does on you tonight.”
“Thank you, Mimi.”
Walking through the house, I took a cleansing breath. I could g
et through this. I knew I could. Mac’s plan was to go through the night, acting as if nothing had happened in the past few days other than Frankie running away from home. Obviously now back with her sister, she was at the party celebrating with the rest of us.
I exited the house and hurried down the tented walkway on the red carpet to the main event.
The four large chandeliers hanging from each of the tallest peaks glistened in the night, illuminating the venue. Each table was covered in white flowers and lit tapers, only making the room more magical.
Shelia stood near the bandstand as the dinner music had already begun. They’d pick up the pace for dancing after the comments by the executive director of North Star and the president. By that time, I could only hope the liquor had been flowing long enough for people to dig deep into their pockets before writing a check to the organization.
“How’s everything looking?” I asked her.
Pausing, she pressed the microphone to her headset. “That’s a go,” she said. “I’m sorry, Samantha. Everything is looking great. I just spoke with Agent Martelli and the president is scheduled to be here right on time, just before dinner and before announcements. He’s leaving directly after.”
“He’s not eating?”
She shook her head. “Last minute change in plans. But the important thing is that he’s here to speak.”
I nodded. “Have you seen Agent Jackman or Senator Henry? I want to check in with them—you know—now that the president has a different plan.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Henry,” I repeated, leaning into her. “Senator Henry?”
“Sorry.” Sheila rolled her eyes and pointed to her earpiece. “There’s so much chatter going on here I couldn’t concentrate on what you were saying. Senator Henry is over there,” she said, nodding her head to the back of the tent. “He’s speaking with Senator Hill and Congressman Roddey.”
I mouthed the words thank you and hurried away, lifting my long dress as I made a hasty departure. I shook hands and thanked people from one corner of the expansive tent to the other—accepting the compliments on how beautiful the venue was, to the fact the president himself would be arriving soon. It took me longer than I’d anticipated to make it to Boone, but I kept an eye on him the entire time, doing my best not to lose my line of sight.
When I finally made it, the men around him scattered, leaving him standing alone.
“You are a vision in that pink gown, Samantha. I mean, truly.”
I knew he wasn’t merely trying to flatter me. He meant it.
“Promise you’ll save just one dance for me tonight? Mac won’t mind, will he?”
“I’m sure he’d be fine with it. Listen,” I began, quickly changing the subject. “Did you know the president is only coming for remarks? He’s not eating dinner or staying for the party.”
Boone pursed his lips. “Honestly, Sam. The fact that we got him here at all is huge. I mean, look at all the press coverage we’re getting because he’s coming just to say Good job, he said pointing to the large bank of the press corps filled with cameras.
I nodded. I didn’t need to be greedy. The president was coming to give remarks. Other organizations would kill to have that happen. And Boone was right, North Star would be on network and cable news everywhere. This was big. I just needed to calm down and let it all happen. With everything Mac had prepared for, I just prayed the president’s appearance was the most memorable moment of the evening.
30
MAC
Fuller walked the crew into the tent and I went with them as far as the entrance before turning back to wait for Agent Win Holloway and his fiancé, Ginny. They’d been kind enough to drop everything and come to Alabama so I had back up I could trust. The least I could do was greet them at the door.
I glad-handed several Washington big wigs, including lobbyists for everything from insurance carriers to airplane manufacturers, and CEO’s from across the country. Samantha had outdone herself in getting guests to switch from the original venue in Atlanta to our home. I was proud to greet everyone on the steps of Lone Oak. Proud of my family’s homestead and even prouder of my wife.
When I saw our next guest, a sigh of relief filled my body and I stood a little taller when she walked through the front door. Secretary Molly Molloy was a slight woman, and for her age, surprisingly fit. She was wise beyond her years and possessed the tongue of a serpent and the wit of an acerbic comedian.
“Madam Secretary,” I said, taking her hand to bring it to my mouth for a quick kiss.
She smiled at me, her dark pixie cut hair was true to her no-nonsense demeanor and military background. “Cut the shit, Mac,” she said softly in my ear. “I need an update.”
Taking her aside, I linked my arm in hers and walked away from the entrance. “Still no sign of Brady. The boys have tightened up their list, and have been able to hack into some of the patron’s email accounts where they’ve asked for service.”
“I see,” she said with a nod. “And who else has this information?”
Casually I looked around us before speaking. “Only me.”
“And the emails. That’s all you have?”
I brought my perplexed gaze back to her and without saying a word, silently asked her what more she needed.
“Look Mac, I’m not just gonna get in the van. I need to see the candy first. You get me?”
She wanted more. But without Brady, I didn’t have more. I had what I had.
Molly looked around the crowd that had gathered at the front entrance and gave a few waves and protocol smiles to the dignitaries surrounding us. “I hate this kinda shit. It’s cute how many of these people think they hate me more than I loathe them,” she said. “Get me what you have and I’ll do what I can.”
She walked away and I turned to find Win Holloway decked out in his tux with a beautiful woman at his side.
“Win,” I said, shaking his hand and bringing him in for a bro hug. “It’s been too long.”
He nodded, immediately breaking our grip to step back and introduce his fiancé. “Mac, may I present one of the best agents at the Bureau and the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, my bride-to-be, Agent Virginia Grace.”
“Ginny,” she said, shaking my hand.
I raised her hand to kiss it. “Well done, Win and an agent at that. Well done indeed. I can’t thank you enough for being here tonight.”
“Honestly, it worked out perfectly,” Win said. “My grandfather was coming to the event by himself—you know, representing Winter Bourbon. We just tagged along.”
“Your grandfather?” I asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Mac Callahan, this is my grandfather, Cecil Winterbourne.”
“Nice to meet you, son,” the older man said.
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Winterbourne. Welcome to Lone Oak.”
“I’ve been here before. You were just a little boy, but your father and I conducted some business long ago. He was a great man.”
“He was,” I agreed.
“I was always envious of his car, Pussy.”
“Cee Cee,” Win chided.
“No, no, he’s correct. My father named his sixty-three Aston Martin DB5 Pussy Galore.”
“She was a helluva ride.”
“Still is, sir.”
Mr. Winterbourne smiled. “It’s good to know some things don’t change. You know, old people like me don’t like change.”
“The older I get, sir. The more I agree with you.”
Engrossed in the conversation, I didn’t notice Samantha had sidled up to me in her pink gown. When she dipped her hand into my arm, I turned to find an apprehensive look on her face masked by a forced, albeit gracious, smile.
“Win, Ginny, Mr. Winterbourne, this is my lovely wife, Samantha. Sam, this is Win Holloway, his fiancé Ginny Grace and Cecil Winterbourne.”
“It’s wonderful to make your acquaintances. Welcome to Lone Oak.”
“Sam?”
I began. “Would you mind escorting Mr. Winterbourne to the tent? I need to speak with Win and Ginny privately for a moment.”
“Of course,” she replied. “It was wonderful to meet you both. Mac and I are thankful you’re here tonight for many reasons.”
“I’ll come find you directly,” I said. “Have the others settled in okay?”
“Everything is going surprisingly smoothly with the exception of the president’s change of plans.”
I cocked my head, silently asking her to elaborate without saying too much.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle alone,” she said.
Stepping away from the crowd, I corralled Win and Ginny into my office and shut the door behind us.
“What’s going on, Mac?”
“Look, I don’t have much time here. I need to get back out there and greet these folks like nothing is wrong,” I said.
“What is wrong?” Ginny asked.
“A couple of days ago, my assistant’s younger sister was abducted—pulled into a trafficking slash prostitution ring we believe runs the coast from Boston through New York to Washington, D.C. She escaped—well, I bought her through their dark web slavery site. I had a couple of experienced hackers break into their system. What we found was pretty damn shocking.”
“What?” Win asked.
“A sex ring—heavily concentrated in Washington, D.C.; kids, young women and men, have been servicing some of our nation’s leaders for over a year now. We have email addresses and requests. I had a kid in my protective custody who made it out alive, but he bolted. We’ve got everyone from the local police to the Coast Guard out looking for him. Here’s the biggest part of it—as if the sex trafficking wasn’t bad enough. These young men and women have been trained and are being forced to not only have sex with these people, but to drug them and then rifle through their phones or laptops—whatever they can get their hands on.”
“Looking for?” Win asked.
“The ring is selling secrets, classified information to terrorist cells. Any security level, anything they can use.”