Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“But I got the feeling he really thought spring was going to work.”
“And he might have, but then he and Kurt probably got down to the actual specifics of who they wanted to invite and that was when things changed.”
“How so?”
“Think about it. George in particular has people coming from all over the globe, some, I’m certain, on active duty in the military. All those people probably needed a bit more time than just a few months to get their schedules sorted out.”
She seemed to be considering that.
“Plus, Kurt’s sister with the weird name…what is it?”
“Pa. It’s not weird.”
“Oh, it’s weird,” I said, chuckling.
Quick groan from her. “Fine. It’s Thomasin.”
“Which is weird,” I told her. “But I’m not going to say that to her face when I meet her, but my understanding is that she has school-age children. Kids can’t be out at any time. She has to plan that, get homework, et cetera, so they don’t fall behind.”
She looked up at me. “Your logic seems sound.”
“Well, thank you very much.”
“Guess when they moved it to?”
“I’m going to say, the fall sometime?”
“How did you know? I thought maybe summer.”
“Fall makes more sense. You need more time to plan a wedding, and even though there’s probably not a lot of people coming, I’m guessing a hundred at the most, you still have to coordinate.”
She nodded.
“And I’ll bet you that Kurt had no idea how much the people on George’s list have to do just to get into the country.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Love, we both know that some of the people George wants to invite are wanted in this country, as well as several others.”
“Oh, they are not.”
I shot her a look.
“Fine. That’s possible.”
“I’m betting there are clearances that have to be posted so someone like, say, Christopher Mancuso, the lovely man who saved you while George was out of the country, can fly into the US without being stopped.”
“How do you know Mr. Mancuso is lovely?”
“He saved you, my darling, so he’s perfection in my book.”
“George did say once that he knows people who have red notices on them.”
“Now you see, I don’t know what that is––”
“A red––”
“And I don’t want to. I simply want to attend the man’s wedding and have a good time.”
“Did he tell you he was inviting you, because he told me,” she asked, smiling.
“He asked if your father and I would attend, and I said of course we would.”
“Because you like him.”
“I do, but more importantly, he is your guardian angel, so he’s forever golden in my book.”
She grunted. “You know, we’re supposed to feast on Beltane and jump over a bonfire.”
“Well, I’m making roast chicken with all the sides, so technically, that could be considered feasting, and you have your fireproof casting bowl outside. You could make a tiny fire and jump over that later tonight.”
“Yes. Or I can just light candles all over the house, do some baking with you, pick some flowers, and set some intentions.”
“That all sounds great,” I told her. “Shall we make some challah bread?”
She nodded. “And cookies. Let’s make Dad some snickerdoodles.”
“And maybe some strawberry pie.”
Nice to hear her sigh deeply so I knew, without asking, how happy she was.
The weekend before Mother’s Day, on that Friday, Sam came home, and I could hear him outside, on the screened-in part of the deck where our laundry room is, slamming things around. I went immediately to the hutch in the living room where he kept his good liquor, poured him some bourbon, and had it on the counter when he finally charged into the kitchen.
“I don’t want anyone over tomorrow night, so we’re gonna hafta call off the barb––”
“Drink that,” I said, pointing at the rocks glass on the counter.
Striding over, he took a sip and closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and then put the glass down and walked more slowly over to me.
“Sorry,” he murmured, and bent toward me.
I met him halfway, kissed him, and then leaned back and smiled. “No apologies needed. As usual, I’m very happy to see you all in one piece at the end of the day, Chief Deputy.”
He grunted.
I grimaced. “Did you lose anyone today?”
“Yep. Two more.”
It was a fact of life that at the beginning of every year, the Northern District of Illinois got in transfers and new probationary marshals. Sometimes they came at other times, later in the year, depending on what personnel was needed. But for the most part, new members to the team showed up in either January or February. This year, it had been the beginning of February, and I wasn’t sure what was happening, but Sam seemed to be having more trouble than usual with his new additions. Usually, most of them stuck. There was the horrific example of Gabriel Brodie, who turned out to be a total psychopath, and Brodie’s poor partner, who was reassigned to the middle of nowhere. I think somewhere in Vermont. And there was a guy either last year or the year before who was in a club when it was robbed and did nothing. Sam ended up reassigning him to Judicial Support, which he felt was a better fit. But so far this year, the washouts had apparently been more spectacular, and Sam came home horrified over what would be on the nightly news. It was taking a toll on him, because normally, it wasn’t so bad. Sam had a reputation for having an exemplary team…just not this year. At least so far.