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U.S. Marshals: Prey (U.S. Marshals Book 3)

Page 16

by Laura Marie Altom


  “You should eat more,” Gillian argued, putting a roll on Charity’s plate. “You’ve hardly put on any weight. If you’re worried about your dress fitting, don’t. I’ve found you the best tailor money can buy. He’s promised to make your dress look stunning regardless of the state of your tummy.” She patted Charity’s stomach. “Hello in there.”

  “Relax.” Grinning, Charity said, “I won’t even be showing for another couple months.”

  “All the same, if you’re worried—about anything—don’t.”

  While everyone else talked sports over the turkey and ham and at least a dozen side dishes Gracie and a team of chefs had prepared, Charity sat angled on her seat, facing her future sister-in-law and for the first time since Adam had left, revealing how ill at ease she was with Adam’s supposedly top-secret assignment. “I’m a fellow agent, Gillian, but it’s the oddest thing. Men I’ve worked with for years won’t make eye contact with me. In fact, most everyone at the office just avoid me. I’ve never felt so ostracized. And I don’t have the foggiest idea why. It’s like I’ve got some dread disease.”

  “You know men.” Gillian clucked. “They’re probably not sure what to make of the wedding plans and all. You’ve gone from being one of the guys to a bride and future mom. Maybe they’re feeling—”

  “This a private party?” Adam asked at the room’s oversize door. “Or do you all let in bums off the street?”

  “Adam!” Charity scraped her chair back, practically knocking him down with a running jump. Tossing her arms around his neck and legs around his hips, she said, “I’ve missed you so bad.”

  “Same here,” he said into her hair, face buried in the crook of her neck. “Lord, you smell great.”

  “You, too. Are you home for good?”

  “Not just yet, but I’m hoping soon.”

  “Can you at least tell me where you’ve been?”

  “Sorry,” he said, setting her to her feet. “The whole thing’s pretty covert.”

  “Sure.” She tried not to pout. “I understand.”

  “Thanks.” He slipped his arm around her waist. “Having your support makes this easier.”

  “What’s that?” Caleb asked.

  “You know,” Adam said, pressing a kiss to the top of Charity’s head.

  “Sure, but does everyone else? Dad,” Caleb asked their father. “Do you have any idea what Adam, here, has been up to?”

  “This is not the time.” Vince’s tone and expression turned stormy.

  Was Charity only imagining it, or was there tension between her fiancé and his brothers and dad?

  “Oh, sure,” Caleb said, a touch of sarcasm in his tone. “How could I forget? A secret as important as yours shouldn’t be talked about in family circles.”

  Charity caught Adam passing Caleb a dirty look, but he didn’t say a word, just sat at the fresh place setting Gillian had laid for him, then grabbed hold of Charity’s hand. What would account for Caleb’s nasty attitude? Was he jealous that Adam had leapfrogged ahead of him for this apparently prestigious assignment?

  Everyone around the office knew once Franks retired, Caleb would most likely be promoted to Oregon’s next presidentially appointed U.S. Marshal. Was all this tension a case of sibling rivalry?

  “Gillian,” Adam helped himself to turkey, “this is an amazing spread.”

  “Thanks,” Gillian said, “but all I did was plan the floral arrangements. Gracie handled the cooking.”

  “Well, Gracie,” Adam said with a generous smile, “you’ve outdone yourself. Everything looks—and I’m sure, tastes—delicious.”

  Gracie frowned. “I’m pleased with everything but the mashed potatoes. They’re Beau’s favorite, so I tried making a bigger batch than usual. They’re off. But I can’t quite figure out what’s missing.”

  “So you blame it on me?” Beau asked.

  “You’re the most convenient one,” Gracie teased her husband.

  Meggie piped in with, “I think the taters are good, Aunt Gracie!”

  “Me, too,” added Caleb Jr.

  “Uh-huh,” said Gillian and Joe’s daughter, Chrissy.

  With it unanimously decided the potatoes were delicious and Gracie was too hard on her own cooking, the tension eased between Adam and Caleb and conversation wound around to the usual family chatter on upcoming vacation and holiday plans—only this time those plans happened to coincide with Charity and Adam’s Christmas wedding and Paris honeymoon that it’d been decided the whole family would be going on. Joe and Gillian had rented a chateau just outside the city. The newlyweds would have their own private wing.

  With Adam beside her, for Charity, at least, the day took on a surreal happy glow. It was hard to believe how perfectly everything had turned out between them.

  From dinner, they all joined in to wash dishes, then settled into the massive theater room to watch football on the screen that made Judge Morningside’s plenty-big model feel like a toy.

  “Are you spending the night?” Charity whisper-asked Adam around nine, when all the games had gone off and the few of them not splashing in the indoor pool were in the midst of a James Bond film fest.

  “I’d love to,” he said, “but I really should get back.”

  “Please, Adam,” she begged, palm against his chest. “I’ve missed you so bad. Phone calls just aren’t the same as waking up beside you.” She proved how much she’d missed him with a heated kiss.

  “Let me call Franks,” he said, apparently as revved up as she was. “It’s a holiday, so I bet he’ll give me the night off.”

  “I’ll just bet he will,” Caleb said wryly from the row of reclining seats in front of them.

  That’s it. might not be any of Charity’s business, but she’d had enough of Caleb’s attitude.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked Adam’s older, usually wiser, brother. “Are you this insecure with your position within the service that you have to begrudge your very own brother this amazing opportunity? Adam’s a great marshal, and he deserves his spot on what’s apparently an intriguing case. I’m sorry, Caleb, but right now, your behavior strikes me as childish and petty.”

  Caleb pushed himself up from his seat and laughed. On his way out of the room, he tipped his bottle of beer at Adam. “Childish and petty. Yup. That’s me.”

  Thankfully, Adam’s dad and Allie’s mom were seated three rows ahead and had missed the whole awkward exchange, as had Joe’s former in-laws.

  “What’s gotten into him?” Charity asked once Caleb had left the room.

  “Beats me.” Adam downed a swig of his beer.

  “Under any other circumstance, I’d tell you to go have it out with him. He shouldn’t be treating you like that. But tonight, I want you all to myself.”

  Kissing her again, he said, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  After making love twice to his wife-to-be in a swanky Parisian-themed suite Gillian had decorated just for them, Adam should’ve been tired, but the second his eyes closed, his brain sprung wide awake.

  He could throttle Caleb for the way he’d acted around Charity. What had he been thinking? Popping off like that. Charity finding out about his suspension wasn’t going to help anything. In fact, in the couple weeks since he’d placed himself in intensive therapy, Adam felt as if he’d made great strides in overcoming the demons that’d been like acid to his soul ever since Angela’s death.

  Sure, probably the right thing to do in this case would be to tell Charity the whole truth about what his secret mission was, but this was one of those times where maybe there wasn’t any definitive right or wrong. Just gray.

  The only person who could ultimately judge if he was doing right was Charity, but he couldn’t take the risk in telling her. Not now, with the wedding so close. If he told her, and she didn’t understand—didn’t understand to the point that she didn’t even want to marry him—what then? How would he survive without her?

  With her, and their baby who was on the way, his life would on
ce again be in sync. Everything would make sense again. After slipping his ring on Charity’s finger, all wrongs would magically be right.

  While they were on their way to Paris, he’d tell her everything, but until then, he couldn’t take the risk.

  “It’s magical,” Charity gushed into the Parisian suite’s phone to Adam the Thursday afternoon before their Saturday wedding. She’d accrued so much vacation time over the years that she’d taken off the week before the big event and three weeks after. Even though they’d be in France only two weeks, she figured there would be plenty to do once they got home, what with moving Adam and Ralphie out of their apartment and into her place, where they’d decided to live. “You’re not going to believe the setting Gillian and her wedding planners have made for our big day. The solarium was already gorgeous, but we’ll be taking our vows on the prettiest altar/bridge thingee Gillian had built over the deep end of the pool, right by the waterfall. At first, I was afraid the water might be too loud for our friends and family to hear us make our vows, but Gillian’s gardener assured me he can lessen the flow, so that it’s not a roar, but more of a happy trickle.”

  Adam laughed, and Charity’s heart swelled. “Sounds perfect, angel. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “You’ll be here tomorrow night, right? We have the rehearsal dinner and Gracie’s fixing—”

  “Relax. I’ll be there. After work, I just need to go by my apartment and pack a few things.”

  “Want me to do it for you in the morning? Gillian’s got so many crews handling most everything, I’m usually dead weight around here.”

  “No,” Adam said sharply. “I can handle it.”

  “Really,” she said, flopping into a more comfortable position on the bed. “I don’t mind. It’d give me something to do. I’m getting nervous—no, not really nervous, just excited, you know. It seems like I’ve been waiting forever for this day to come and now that it’s almost here, I don’t quite know what to do with myself.” She sighed, fingering her hair. “All this nervous energy. It’s balling up inside. Too bad you’re not here,” she said with a sexy purr. “I’m sure we could figure some creative way to eliminate excess energy.”

  “Hold tight,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll be there to assist you in twenty minutes.”

  “I wish,” she said, joining in on his laughter. “Luckily, it won’t be too long now till I never have to be without you again.”

  “You got that right. So,” he said, “you’re going to stay at Gillian’s in the morning, right? Do the whole blushing bride thing while I run by and get my clothes?”

  “If that’s what you want, but I don’t see why I can’t save you some time by—”

  “It’s what I want,” he said. “You just worry about looking even more gorgeous and taking care of our baby.”

  Caw! Caw!

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Gillian was afraid the solarium birds might have an accident on the tables or a guest, so she temporarily caged them, and all of us now have the pleasure of big, noisy birds in our rooms.”

  He laughed. “On second thought, with that racket going on all night, maybe I’m glad I’m not there.”

  Caw! Caw! Caw!

  “Yeah, but just think,” Charity said. “All that noise would make a pretty good dampener for certain other noises…” She made a kissy sound into the phone.

  “Stop. You’re killing me. Maybe I could make it in fifteen minutes if I ran every light and stop sign?”

  “Don’t you dare. The last thing we need is Franks firing you for bailing on your post. You just finish up your portion of this job, and I’ll be here, on one of my last nights as a single girl, sharing the bed with the hottest guy in the house.”

  “And who would that be?” Adam asked.

  Grinning, casting an indulgent look at the handsome fella draped across the foot of the bed, she said, “That would be Skye.”

  Laughing, Adam said, “Ralphie and I will see you tomorrow, Almost-Mrs. Logue. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she said into the dead phone.

  Why, when she should’ve been deliriously happy, did she suddenly have this feeling of dread?

  Was Caleb still giving Adam trouble?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Caw! Caw!

  She hopped up from the bed, gave Skye a pat, the obnoxious bird a glare, then snatched her keys and purse from a table near the suite’s double doors. She’d nearly made it to the mansion’s front door when Gillian rounded a corner, asking, “Where do you think you’re going? You have a dress fitting in ten minutes.”

  “I can’t,” Charity said, darting around the woman who would soon be her sister-in-law, but who’d already become a dear friend.

  “Hon, what’s wrong?” Gillian grasped Charity’s upper arm. “Did you and Adam have a fight? You did just get off the phone with him, right?”

  “Yes, we were on the phone. But, no, everything’s great between us. It’s Caleb I have a problem with. I’m going to the office. It’s high time I had it out with that pigheaded, selfish, egotistical—”

  “Whoa…” Gillian pulled Charity into a hug. “You’re shaking. Come here—” she led her to a nearby chair “—all this excitement can’t be good for the baby.”

  “The baby’s fine. It’s Caleb you should be worried about. When I get my hands on him, he’s going to—”

  “Seriously,” Gillian said. “Calm down and give my big brother the benefit of the doubt. With you and Adam out of the office, he’s been under a lot of pressure to pick up the slack. I’m sure work stress is what must’ve caused whatever he said—not anything Adam might’ve done.”

  “Gillian?” Charity looked up, not liking the stricken look on her friend’s face. “I never said Caleb and I had words.”

  “I—I didn’t say you did,” Gillian said, glancing away. “I just assumed that must be why you’re upset with him. Believe me,” she said with a short laugh, “if anyone understands how aggravating Caleb can be, it’s me. And my best advice,” she said, dropping into the chair beside Charity’s, putting her hand on her knee, “is to just ignore him. No denying the man can be a pain, but he loves Adam—and you.”

  “Then why is he giving Adam such grief?”

  “What exactly has Adam told you?”

  “Nothing,” Charity said. “That’s the problem.” She relayed the words exchanged between the brothers over Thanksgiving. “Don’t you think that sounds odd?”

  “It’s a guy thing.” Gillian waved off Charity’s concerns. “No matter how much you love them, they’re ultimately a mystery. All we can do is stand by and hope they don’t hurt themselves.”

  “Hurt themselves?” Charity leaned forward. “You mean, like they’re at such odds they might fight?”

  “No, no,” Gillian said. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I meant that more in the cosmic sense. You know, how guys are always doing some boneheaded thing we have to rescue them from.”

  “Then does that mean Adam or Caleb are in some kind of trouble?”

  “Not at all.” She glanced at her watch. “Whoa, we’ve been out here chatting for so long you’ve almost missed your appointment. The tailor should be all set up in the front parlor.”

  Charity glanced toward the door. “Then you don’t think I should have a talk with Caleb? Clear the air before the rehearsal dinner?”

  “You could go,” Gillian said. “But ultimately, it’d probably be a waste of time. Now, if you miss this last fitting, on the other hand, you’ll really be wasting time because we’ll have to find you a whole new gown by Saturday.”

  “All right.” Charity chose to ignore the lingering suspicion that not all was right. “I’ll let it go. But if Caleb so much as looks at me or Adam cross-eyed, he’s going to get it.”

  The second Charity was busy with the tailor, Gillian high-tailed it to Joe’s office and shut the door. “When I get my hands on that brother of mine, I’m going to strangle him.”

/>   “Which one?” Joe asked, hanging up his phone.

  “Actually, all three.”

  “Charity wise up and figure out Adam isn’t on some mysterious mission, but hiding at his apartment?”

  “No, but I’m afraid she’s close. Oh, Joe,” she collapsed onto one of the two guest chairs in front of his desk. “I’m so mad at Adam for keeping his suspension from her. If he’d just fessed up at the time about how he’d left his post to be with her, she’d have understood, but now…” She shook her head. “And Caleb—what’s he thinking to have even gotten himself involved? And considering how he’s up to his neck in this, he should’ve kept his big mouth shut.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “Nothing concrete. Just enough to give our bride a reason to be suspicious. I swear, Joe, if that brother of mine does something to foul up this wedding…”

  “Relax.” Joe left his desk to rub her shoulders. “These past weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time talking with Adam. I think he’s finally got his head on straight.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s not Adam I’m currently upset with, it’s Caleb.”

  “Women.” Joe sighed.

  “Men.” Gillian shook her head.

  “You know you love us.” Joe knelt beside her, stealing a kiss.

  “Okay, I love you,” she said. “But not my crazy brothers.”

  Skye thumped his tail against Joe’s desk.

  “Sorry, mister.” She rubbed his soft ear. “I love you, too.”

  Though as far as Adam was concerned, Caleb was an informational bomb waiting to blow, much to his pleasant surprise, his big brother seemed back to his old charming self during the rehearsal dinner—at least when the whole gang was gathered.

  The few times they’d been on their own, he hadn’t bothered disguising grouchy stares.

  Now, thankfully, Adam was on the crowded dance floor with his beautiful bride-to-be. Usually this space, located on the far side of the indoor river that ultimately twisted its way to the waterfall, was the kids’ mini-golf course. But for this special occasion, Gillian must’ve paid a fortune to have it covered in wood parquet. Surrounded by tall and stubby palms along with sweet-smelling flowering shrubs, despite the slow Christmas ballad the band was playing, Adam would’ve sworn he was in Tahiti instead of Oregon.

 

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