Page 16 of Smoke Screen
A hardship, that wouldn’t be.
“Let’s give him until the end of the day.”
“Gerry,” Louis said, “Dad is devastated. You should get on this.”
Nobody moved. Well, nobody except Maddy, who turned her attention to a large print of the White House on the wall across from her because, my goodness, she’d never heard anyone, not even the First Lady, tell President Thompson what to do.
“And you don’t think I am?”
The president’s voice had lowered an octave, the words coming out slow. Controlled.
Scary voice. The one that, thankfully, he had never used with Maddy, but still made her suddenly need to pee.
“My wife,” he continued, “convinced her grandmother to let us borrow priceless jewels belonging to the royal family. They were stolen on my watch. You don’t thinkthatstirs a sense of immediacy?”
Louis sat back.
The reminder delivered of who was king in this building.
President Thompson folded his hands on top of the table. “If we don’t hear anything from the Blackwell camp by tomorrow morning, I’ll call them. As soon as we’re done here, you and I will call Dad and explain the situation. Believe me, we’ll find these pieces. I don’t care what it takes.”
Phin ledthe charge into the lobby of the Thompson Center and found Maddy standing in front of a large U-shaped reception desk where she chatted up the uniformed security guard sitting behind it.
As with the night before, her hair fell over her shoulders, the wild curls bouncing and charming him all over again.
Dang, those curls.
She wore a fitted cotton blouse tucked into a slim skirt with high-heeled pumps. Something about the professional attire mixed with the wild mane of hair sent his mind places. Really naughty places his mother would scold him for.
He was a man. Sue him.
The guard made eye contact, then quickly scanned the four men following Phin. They must’ve looked like an interesting lot. Phin, in dress slacks and a sport coat, Zeke in jeans and a Henley with the BARS logo on the sleeve. Cruz had dressed up, at least in his mind, by wearing khakis and an ironed T-shirt, and Rohan had opted for jeans with a loose button-down.
Maddy turned, meeting Phin’s eye. “Good afternoon. Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for accommodating us,” Phin said.
Phin made the introductions and gave Cruz, a guy who slayed women without even trying, the mother of all I-will-kill-you looks when his gaze held Maddy’s for what Phin considered beyond the line of professionalism. Then again, his brother was also a man.Sue him.
Maddy led them to a set of escalators and Cruz whispered, “What’s that look for?”
“You were staring.”
“I wasn’tstaring. Even if I was, so what? She’s damned fine to look at.”
Point there.
Before stepping onto the escalator, Zeke shot them his version of the I-will-kill-you-look. “Knock it off, fuckers,” he muttered.
Phin and Cruz followed directions, riding the escalator in silence behind Rohan and Zeke while Phin conjured images of Maddy’s curls tumbling over a pillow.
He didn’t needthatdistraction right now and fought to focus on the professional opportunity afforded them.
At the top, Maddy turned right where the mouth of the exhibits entrance yawned large. Discreet signage pointed patrons in various directions, but they blew right on by, winding their way through a replica of the diner where Thompson had announced his presidency.
Recently, Phin had eaten at that diner with an event planner he’d met at a costume ball. He’d figured her to be a good contact. They wound up hitting it off and landed in the sack for a fun night.
All in a day’s work, he supposed.
