no reason to worry the poor woman unnecessarily.
Sally MacEwan stopped what she was doing long enough to fix her daughter with an appraising look followed by the approval of a warm smile. She was a short, thin woman with pointed features. MacEwan wondered if she would look like that at fifty-nine. “That’s a nice outfit, dear,” she said.
MacEwan couldn’t help but laugh at her mother’s remark, but she immediately stepped forward and gave her a loving peck on the cheek. “I wouldn’t exactly call this old thing an outfit, Mom. But I’m glad you like it all the same.”
Her mother merely shook her head. “Still just a young smart aleck, aren’t you? You got that from your daddy. Now make yourself useful, girl, and finish setting the table.”
“Yes, ma’am,” MacEwan replied. She turned toward the cabinet where the glasses and plates were stored, and her mom swatted her on the behind with a towel before returning her attention to the stove.
As MacEwan retrieved the dinnerware, she looked out the kitchen window into the backyard of the house. The MacEwans had a lot of ranching acreage, the result of years of hard work by MacEwan’s father. That same work had sent her to a local university and subsequently to MIT. MacEwan hadn’t abused such a privilege, graduating top of her class and going to work almost immediately for the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. She’d been with their Information Processing Technology Office for only six months before capturing the attention of Dr. Mitchell Fowler, a genius and the subject of one of MacEwan’s college white papers on the security of the Carnivore system. It had been an honor to work with such a distinguished scientist. MacEwan had no idea it would turn into such a deadly proposition.
But she was taking some much needed vacation time and she didn’t have to worry about it anymore. At least that’s what she had hoped. Her time with Cooper had taught her to look for the unusual in everything, and she was almost positive she had just spotted one of those unusual things. She could see the setting sunlight reflecting off metal.
“Mom?”
“Hmm…Yes, dear?”
“Where are Daddy’s binoculars?”
The mother turned to look at her daughter, but MacEwan’s eyes were still focused on the metal reflecting light in the distance. She could hear her mother say something, but she couldn’t make out the words because of the sudden sound of blood pulsing in her ears. Her heartbeat quickened. Something wasn’t right. There were only maybe five or six people who knew where she was, and none of them would have any reason to keep the house under observation.
“Honey?”
“Yes?”
“Did you hear me?”
“No.” MacEwan blinked and turned to face her mother. “What did you say?”
“I said they’re in the study, bottom drawer of his desk.”
“Thanks.”
She left the dishes right where they were on the counter, ignoring her mother’s inquiries. She went straight to the study and opened in her father’s desk drawer. She hated this room every time she entered it. It hadn’t been the same since her father had died, and while her mother had tried to preserve things just the way they were, the place had taken on an eerie quality. It was like a damn morgue with her father’s strong, vital presence absent. Everything had seemed out of place in the room since his death.
MacEwan shook off the bad vibes, located the binoculars where her mother had told her they were and immediately returned to the kitchen. She brought the device to her eyes and adjusted the focus until she had the source of the reflection in sight. It was a nondescript sedan, coupe-style body, with four men inside. None of them looked like foreigners. In fact, they looked almost like government agents. Still, something wasn’t quite right.
“Mom, I need you to do me a favor,” she said calmly.
“What’s that?” her mother replied as she finished setting the table. “And what on earth are you looking at with those things? It’s almost time to eat, and I want to get finished before Jeopar—”
“Mom,” MacEwan snapped, “I need to borrow your car.”
“Right this minute? Why?”
MacEwan spun and faced her mother, trying to maintain her patience. “Because I need to go into town for something.”
Her mother made a sweeping gesture toward the table and kitchen cabinets. “We’ve got everything you need. You did the shopping with me. I—”
“Momma, I’m sorry but I can’t explain this right now. I need to borrow the car, and I have to go into town right now.”
Sally MacEwan started toward the window, yanking the binoculars from her daughter’s hands before she had a chance to stop her. “Are those people you work with watching you? Honestly, you’ve had a darn heck of a time already. Why don’t they leave you alone?”
“Mom, don’t.” MacEwan grabbed her mother by the arm and took the binoculars from her. “You’re right, there is someone watching the house, but I don’t know who. And I don’t want you involved in this. It’s bad enough I have to be involved in it.”
“In what?” Sally MacEwan asked, stepping forward and cocking her head to one side. “Are you in some kind of trouble? You’ve been so quiet and secretive since you got in yesterday morning.”
MacEwan shook her head emphatically. “No, I’m not in any trouble. But I don’t know who these men are, and I need to contact some people who I think could find out.”
“Why don’t they just leave you alone?” her mother asked again with rapid shake of her head.
“It’s not them bothering me, Mom. I have to go. Your keys are in the dish by the door?”
Her mother nodded, following quickly as MacEwan snatched the keys and pulled a light jacket from the closet.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Not long,” MacEwan replied, stepping forward and giving her mother a peck on the cheek. As she turned and headed out the garage door, her mother called after her, “Don’t dent up that car, young lady!”
“I won’t, Momma.”
3
Lorenz Trabucco sat in the front passenger seat of the car and slowly pried away the dirt from under his fingernails with a nail file. He hated waiting around, and he still couldn’t believe his damned bad luck. He loathed boring-ass assignments, and he sure as hell didn’t like Texas. He preferred his hometown of Boston any day of the week.
“I don’t know why Serge insists on sending me on these expeditions to shit-kicker land,” Trabucco complained to no one in particular. He looked to his wheelman and bodyguard, Lou Maxim, first then looked into the back seat where Mickey “Bronco” Huffman and Joey DeLama sat. The two were dozing off, and at first Trabucco felt like yelling at them to stay alert, but he opted not to. He figured there was no point in being a dick.
Trabucco returned to his manicure as he
