by Janet Leigh
Ace grinned. “Well, Agent McCoy, I guess you get to find out how it feels to be the object of my adoration, or maybe you can admire me. We need to work out the details.”
Jake just sat dumbfounded.
“I didn’t know how to get Ace invited otherwise,” I said. “Melissa Jo doesn’t know him. You were only invited to the wedding because Melissa Jo’s sister Amy was in charge of the guest list.”
“I declined the invitation. I was planning on setting up a stakeout to keep an eye on everyone, then joining you for the meeting.”
“Well, I accepted for you and added Ace. Besides, you were at most of my family events growing up, and Amy has always had a crush on you.”
“Oh, the poor dear will be heartbroken,” Ace said, patting Jake’s hand.
Jake snatched it away, and Ace explained he was just getting into character.
“How are they going to pull this off?” I asked. “Won’t it look suspicious when Eli shows up with his hands tied behind his back and guns drawn?”
“The Mafusos made it clear Eli was willing to cooperate and have this matter settled without the use of force.”
My brother was cooperating as a hostage? That didn’t sound right. Eli wasn’t one to be bullied around. He was in great shape, and I was betting he would make a run for it as soon as the chance presented itself.
“Where are we going to make the exchange?” Brodie asked.
Jake spread out a map, showing the distance from the cowboy church to Aunt Elma’s house. “While the choir is singing, the Mafusos will meet you in the garden at Elma’s house.” Jake pointed to the hidden garden area at the back of the property. “After the choir sings, the bride and groom will cut the cake here.” He indicated the big red barn. “That will keep the guests occupied.”
“How many Mafusos are coming?” I asked.
“Mahlia will be there. Mitchell and…” Jake hesitated before saying the last name. “Gian-Carlo, according to my contact.”
“Gian-Carlo?” Marco grimaced. “The elder is coming out for a key exchange. It’s rare he comes to America. Normally, he manages his evil deeds from Italy.”
“The Thunder key must be more important than we realized,” Ace said.
“They will only allow Jennifer, me, and one other to keep the odds even,” Jake said. “I need you at the exchange.” He raised his eyes to meet Marco’s. “If things go south, you are the only one who can add a few seconds of safety for Jennifer.”
Marco nodded. “They will know I’m WTF.”
“Welcome to the family,” Brodie said, giving Marco a brotherly pat on the back.
“Most likely they’ll have a few goons as backup,” Ace said.
“And so will we.” Jake indicated the areas on the map where he wanted Ace and Brodie to provide cover.
“Toches will be there,” Marco said. “If he has to give up the Sleigh key, he will be there to take the Thunder.”
“They didn’t say who was getting the Thunder.” Jake said and checked the map to confirm all our bases were covered.
We dispersed after making plans to meet at the wedding. I felt like we should have done a hands-in, all-for-one and one-for-all team huddle at the end. I shook off the feeling of uneasiness as I headed home in my vessel. I had worked my butt off training to be the best WTF traveler, and the Mafusos had caused enough problems. I was in the best shape of my life. I was a tough bitch. This time I was ready for them.
Chapter 12
Aint Elma’s house was a cute white-framed farmhouse tucked back into a cluster of hundred-year-old trees. After she’d passed away, the house was given to Gertie’s mom, my aunt Trish. She had married well and moved to New York City, but she kept the house for family gatherings and such.
Recently, Mamma Bea had moved in after an altercation with a neighbor in her assisted-living condominium complex. The complex had politely asked her to leave, and she had told them she didn’t need any assistance living anyhoo.
The Mafusos wanted the exchange to be at the family house during the reception. I couldn’t wrap my mind around why they wanted it to be there. I knew they were holding Eli hostage, but having the rest of my family around didn’t make sense to me.
Exposing my gift to my family would be worthless. My parents might be difficult to deal with at first, but they would eventually get over it. The Mafusos could have a sit-down with my Mamma Bea. She would deem them nuttier than a five-pound fruitcake. My family has its share of lunatics, and having someone tell Mamma Bea her granddaughter was a time traveler was mild compared to what some of her other relations had done.
There was Uncle Durr, who claimed he could read minds. He wore a purple cape and had convinced the entire town he was legit until Mamma Bea discovered him hiding microphones all over town in an attempt to pick up bits of idle gossip. She threatened to expose him, and he complied but still wore the cape. Aint Loretta Lynn was often seen around town wearing aviation goggles and a bomber jacket and telling everyone she was Amelia Earhart. A time traveler would be bragging rights in this family.
Nope, this didn’t make sense at all. They needed something from me, and I would have to wait and see what that something was at the wedding.
My parents were intent on us attending family functions. Melody, my older sister somehow managed to tap out of these events, leaving Eli and me on the receiving end of cheek pinching and smothering hugs. My mom insisted Eli and I ride with them to the wedding. I told my mom Eli had to pick up his date at the airport, and before she could start with the inquisition, I explained my date would ride down with us instead. My mom was thrilled when I explained that Gertie’s stepdad’s nephew, Marco, was my date.
Marco wasn’t thrilled about riding in a car instead of going by vessel, but I explained it was to keep my parents from growing suspicious about Eli. It would be a nice distraction if he rode down to Mount Vernon with us.
Marco showed up at the house punctually and oozing sex appeal. His jeans were a pair of faded Levi’s, and his sport coat was brown and cowboy cut over a cream-colored vest and crisp white shirt, finished off with a smart tie. He looked amazing. The $4,000 chocolate gator boots peeked out from under the leg of his boot-cut jeans. Luke Bryan had worn a similar pair to the CMAs last year.
“Wow,” I said as I admired his boots. “I didn’t realize you did western.”
“I do a lot of things you don’t know about.” He raised a sexy, dark eyebrow at me.
I took a step back, knowing my parents were about to arrive, and they didn’t need to see Marco in his naked form…which was the state he’d be in if he got any closer to me.
A horn beeped, and I received a text from my mom, alerting me to their presence: Running late. Meet us outside.
Marco and I left the house, and as I was locking the door, I said, “Please don’t mention I have been to your house in SoHo.” We took a few steps toward the car, and I saw my mom’s head snap up in excitement at the fact her youngest daughter had a date. “And Marco, don’t say anything about Caiyan. I haven’t gotten around to introducing him yet.” Marco nodded, and we walked a few more paces. “Oh, and Marco—”
“Jen,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders. Heat shot down to my boy howdy and out my toes. “I’ve got this. I’m good with parents.”
I sighed as he opened the door of my mom’s red BMW sedan. My dad refused to buy foreign cars, but my mom was nonpartisan. In her book, comfort was more important than politics. My parents greeted me, and I introduced Marco. They had met once before at Gertie’s mom’s wedding to Marco’s uncle Vinnie, but it had been a while.
My mom blasted questions at Marco most of the way down to Mount Vernon about his job as a race-car driver and about his parents and New York things they had in common. It wasn’t until Marco gave me an elbow in the ribs that I realized she was asking me a question. I pulled myself from the window and focused.
“Jen, have you lost weight?”
I realized that the results of my intense wo
rkouts at Gitmo had been covered up by baggy sweatpants, my main state of dress on the rare occasions I made it to Sunday dinner. I had gone to Mass with them on Christmas Eve, but once again, I’d had on a thick pea coat.
For the wedding, I was wearing my Marc Jacobs floral sleeveless dress with a jean jacket and cowboy boots. It was one of those rare April days when the temperature was a breezy seventy degrees. My jean jacket was lying on the seat next to me, and my arms were exposed. She hadn’t noticed my toned biceps; she thought I looked skinny.
“Um, yes, I guess. I have been trying to work out more.”
“Good for you.” Mom reached over the seat and patted my knee. “Eli is making a good impression on you. He exercises every day.”
My inner voice was sticking out her tongue at my mom.
She whipped her head around with an amazing amount of flexibility and looked Marco over. “How about you, Marco? Go to the gym in New York?”
Was she kidding? The guy was ripped.
“Yes, ma’am. At least three days a week, and I run five miles every day.”
“Good for you,” my dad chipped in from the front seat. “It’s important to keep in shape.”
Now my dad was double-teaming us.
“How are your eating habits?” my mom asked Marco. “I just finished editing a cookbook for the Healthy Chef—you know, Teresa Cutter. She has some great tips for eating healthy.”
“Mom, please stop with all the questions. Marco isn’t going on the auction block.” She acted as if any second the cattle truck would pull up and take Marco off to auction.
After that my mom shot off a few questions to me about my job at the chiropractic office and if I knew anything about Eli’s new girlfriend. Oh, I knew about her all right, but nothing I could share was the truth. My mom got tired of her interrogation and turned back around to finish her crossword puzzle. Marco and I checked for updates on our secured e-mail. Dad sang with George Jones, and the rest of the ride was peaceful.
* * *
***
* * *
My dad parked the car in a small parking lot designated for guests. Marco and I walked a few steps behind my parents up the small hill to the wedding ceremony. I was clutching my jacket and fiddling with the clasp on my shoulder bag as we approached the chapel.
“Is it the wedding or the church that scares you more?” he leaned in and asked me.
I elbowed him, and he chuckled as we continued toward the cowboy church. The church consisted of a small white chapel with stained-glass windows and an arched belfry.
I knew the church held about two dozen people and had been designed in the days when cowboys had needed a church they could attend and then return to their morning chores. Church service on horseback had provided them the best of both worlds. The pastor held Sunday service inside for those people who wanted to sit indoors, and it was broadcast through a PA system to the outside cowboys. A small arena off to the left hosted weekly bull-riding and equestrian events. Baptisms took place in the stock tank, and sermons were kept to a minimum. If all the members of the congregation were on horseback, the preacher would give his sermon from the front steps of the church.
Today, there was an arched trellis set up under a large oak tree to the left of the chapel. The tree was known as Hangman’s Tree and had Bonnie and Clyde’s initials carved in the trunk.
Family members sitting on bales of hay came forward to welcome us. Mamma Bea embraced me in a hug, and her White Shoulders perfume encircled me like an invisible coat of armor. I didn’t know what the Mafusos had in mind, but I felt immediately stronger with family around. Maybe this was to my advantage after all.
Gertie was in the wedding, and Brodie arrived a few minutes after us via vessel, which he must have landed a good mile away, because he was out of breath when he caught up to me.
My cousin Hildy made a beeline for us, and I introduced Brodie to her before she could wrap me in one of her famous squeeze-the-breath-of-life-out-of-you hugs. She was a pale, heavyset woman who currently had her short hair dyed a deep plum—the perfect complement to Uncle Durr’s cape. I introduced Hildy to Brodie and explained that Brodie was Gertie’s boyfriend. He turned a nice shade of pink and extended a hand to Hildy.
“Well, landsakes. My little Gertie got herself a man. I never thought I’d see the day.” She ignored the hand and wrapped Brodie in a tight squeeze that resembled a polar bear hugging a wiggling fish.
When Brodie finally broke loose, she turned her attention to Marco, who took a step back. “Nice to see you again, Hildy.”
She moved her mass forward faster than seemed possible and got Marco in a full-body hug, picking him up off his feet. Brodie let out a bark of laughter, and I was thankful cousin Hildy had her arms full of hot men and just gave me a wink.
Jake joined our little group, carrying a large, wrapped package. Hildy gave Jake a side hug and raised a dark-purple eyebrow my way. My family was used to me dragging Jake to weddings, reunions, and funerals. They had been dumbfounded a few years back when I’d shown up with a broken heart instead of a ring on my finger. They hadn’t forgiven Jake since. I shrugged, and she wandered off to find other family members to torture.
“Is that a present for Melissa Jo and Kanye?” I asked.
“No, it’s the Thunder key,” Jake said, lowering his voice. “I was afraid to leave it in the car with Toches running amok, Caiyan still searching for a key, and the Mafusos causing a pain in my neck.”
Marco leaned forward and said, “I haven’t seen a sign of any of them.”
My parents strolled over and greeted Jake. I heard my mom ask why he hadn’t brought a date. Jake shrugged helplessly. My dad changed the subject and asked Jake about work. Thank you, Dad.
“Where is Ace?” I asked him after he had made polite conversation with my parents, and they’d wandered off to chat with members of Kanye’s family, who were huddled together and looking like a herd of lost sheep.
“He told me he had an errand and would meet me here. Which normally I would not have allowed, but the thought of spending three hours in a car with Ace was more than I wanted to experience.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his watch.
Poor guy was under a lot of pressure to make this exchange happen without a catastrophe. He had brigands, travelers, and NATs to worry about. Any one of them could cause problems, and keeping the exchange under the radar was going to be a challenge. I felt as if I were Harry Potter trying to keep his magic hidden from the muggles and Jake was the minister for magic.
“I’m surprised you drove,” I said.
“Had to.” He held up the box. “The general didn’t think keeping the key in my pocket was wise. Ace dropped me at headquarters in Dallas, and I secured the key in a locked box and drove down.”
“And this way, you arrived separately from Ace, minimizing the family gossip chain.” I laughed. He knew my family well, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Jake had suggested the idea to General Potts.
My mother was catching up on the latest gossip with Aint Loretta Lynn, who had ditched the aviation goggles but still wore the bomber jacket. My dad was slapping backs with his cousin Buster Keaton. Mamma Bea had a sense of humor. She had named all her children after her favorite celebrities, except my dad, who was named after his father, John Wayne. Go figure.
“Jen and I are going to find out where the wedding party is and see if anything seems off,” Jake said.
“I heard someone say the groomsmen were in the back of the church, and the bride was getting ready in the small house in the back pasture that doubles as a bridal venue and the pastor’s parish,” I said.
“Marco, you and Brodie take the groomsmen. Scout the area and let me know when Ace arrives.”
Marco nodded and left to gather Brodie, who was standing next to a rusted-out John Deere tractor and talking to a group of guests. The family of the groom, no doubt. They were in for a shock when the bridal party arrived on horseback, dressed to the nines in sparkly, black
strapless dresses and stilettos that were going to sink to the sole into the east Texas ground. The rain had come three days ago, providing a nice mushy soil for the wedding party.
I followed Jake around the back of the chapel and walked with him to the parish house.
“You know he’s going to show up, right?” Jake asked.
“Who?”
“Caiyan.”
“No, I haven’t heard from him at all. In fact, we are not currently speaking to each other.” My inner voice was binge eating Ben and Jerry’s ice cream but put her spoon down when she heard the news Caiyan might be in attendance.
“I’m sure Ace’s errand was to go get him. He may have his faults, but there is one thing I can’t deny: he loves you.”
“Then why did he drag my ass back to Berlin in the middle of a war and risk my life and Marco’s life instead of leaving immediately when he discovered the bombing had begun?”
“If Caiyan doesn’t have a key, he can’t protect you. That worries him more than you think. He has been in touch with me several times over the past twenty-four hours, trying to figure out how to keep the Thunder key.”
“Really?”
“Yes, General Potts is starting to realize how much we need Caiyan to travel. He is considering giving him the Thunder if we can find the vessel. Caiyan thought he would have already taken his key back from Mitchell, but we found out Mitchell is not using Caiyan’s key.”
“How is he traveling?”
“We don’t know, but Mahlia told Caiyan he doesn’t have it.”
Caiyan doesn’t know who has his key. He’s not able to get his key back, and that’s why he wanted the key from Berlin. My mind was chewing over the facts as we came up to the parish house. He didn’t know it belonged to Marco’s family. I’m sure he would have left Berlin immediately if Marco had told him the key’s history. The painting would have stayed with Anna, and she wouldn’t have died. My inner voice was airing out her kilt, but I wasn’t convinced Caiyan and I should jump back on the love train.