Page 143 of Keep This Promise
“I thought it was you. Yes, we met several months ago, I’m a friend of Theo’s. Is he here?”
He doesn’t know he’s dead. “No, he’s not coming on this trip with us.”
I note that he still hasn’t reminded me of his name. I can’t recall it, but he keeps moving closer, and I need to stand my ground and not keep stepping back. “That’s too bad, I tried to call him the other day.”
“Oh? What was your name again? I can call him and let him know you’re trying to reach him.”
“Joe.”
“Okay, Joe . . . do you have a last name?” I keep my voice light and laugh a little at the end to hide my nervousness.
“Webb.”
Joe doesn’t seem to be doing or saying anything out of the ordinary, it’s just . . . I can’t explain it. I’m uncomfortable, and I’ve had a really fucking hard day.
“I’ll let him know, if you can excuse me.” I try to move around him, but again, he shifts.
“I meant to ask you, how was the charity dinner last night?”
Eden tries to let go of my hand, and I use that moment to look away from him. When I glance over her head, I see someone approaching who I’ve also seen at my house. It was about two months ago, and he came to bring Theo a package.
Something is wrong.
This is not a coincidence. For the first time since Theo told me about the danger, I believe it.
Without taking my hand from my bag, I lift Eden into my arms. “I have to go. I’m sorry, but we’re going to miss our flight.”
I move in the opposite direction of the second man approaching me, when I see a third man heading our way. His eyes find mine, and then he jerks his head away as though he doesn’t want me to see his face. They’re closing in, and I have to go . . . now.
As I move in the center of the corridor, I pray I can get out of this.
Theo, God, someone up there must be watching out for me because a policeman walks by. I call out, and he stops. “Yes, miss, can I help?”
I force my breathing to remain steady as relief floods me. “Could you help me? My daughter is ill, and I need to get over to security. I would really appreciate if you could just stay with me in case there’s an issue.”
He stares at me as though I’m bonkers, which I probably am right now, but he reluctantly agrees. When I look over my shoulder, the three men are watching me, and I am grateful I’m leaving.
* * *
“Hello, Mrs. Pearson.” A man walks toward me and Eden, and I clutch her to my chest. No one should know we’re in Las Vegas. After the scare in London, I’ve been losing my mind, and it’s been four very long, very exhausting days of travel.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, you have the wrong person.” My American accent needs work, but it was my best attempt. It was somewhere betweenThe Sopranosand a pirate.
He smiles. “I’m Jackson Cole. Your husband, Theo Pearson, hired me.” He shows me some sort of identification, but for all I know, he’s one of the dangerous people who were tracking me in London, and this is just a ruse. I shake my head and start to move away, but he speaks before I’m too far away. “He told me to use the phrase . . . ‘goat taco.’”
My racing heart slows a bit. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
“Goat taco.” Jackson shrugs. “I don’t ask why, but he said you’d know what it means.”
I force my trembling jaw to ease. “I do know, and if he told you, then . . . well, it’s something.”
It means that he is trusted. When Theo was in the hospital as a boy, we used to make up games or jokes that were just between us. The hospital was serving tacos for lunch, and Theo and I were being silly, which led to a joke about whether they were serving goat. It then became a running joke anytime one of us was upset. We’d say it, and the other would laugh.
“I am the owner of one of the elite private security companies in America. He hired me three years ago on a retainer in the event this was necessary.”
“What was necessary?”
“Your protection and answers.”
