Page 61 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
Kimberly nodded.
Pastor Baxter looked at his watch. “I should let you go. One more thought. I’ve done my share of counseling over the years and seen couples fall in love. The only ones who make it are the ones who are committed and who work to make it happen. Love isn’t meant to be easy.”
Kimberly stood and shook the pastor’s hand. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
He didn’t release her hand. “I assume you haven’t consummated your marriage.”
Heat rose in her face. “No, I’m under doctor’s orders...”
“Until you are committed, I strongly suggest you don’t. The state doesn’t care about that anymore as far as annulments are concerned, but avoiding deep intimacy will make it easier to remain friends if you choose not to make the marriage work.”
Kimberly exited the room, her simple question multiplying into more complicated ones.
* * *
The GPS instructions were the only noise on the ride back to the rental house as Kimberly watched out the window and Alex watched Kimberly. She was thinking deeply about something. The realization that he recognized Kimberly’s thinking mode surprised him. They’d known each other for only four weeks, but he’d spent more time with her than most of the girlfriends he’d dated twice as long, and he’d rarely guessed their moods.
No one else was talking either, no doubt preoccupied with the envelope.
Back at the house, they gathered around the kitchen table. Elle set the bag containing the envelope in the center. Adam picked it up. “The postmark is San Francisco. Hardly helpful.”
“May I see it?” asked Kimberly. “My name is written under the mailing label.” She placed her thumbs to open the zip top.
“Don’t open it.” Andrew and Elle spoke at the same time.
Elle took the bag. “There is a chance there is some sort of poison in here. And we don’t want to ruin any fingerprints, although your friend may have touched it several times.”
“You mean like arsenic?” asked Kimberly.
“Possibly, or talcum powder as a scare tactic. That is why I put the plastic knife inside. With a bag this large, it shouldn’t be too hard to use it as a letter opener. If that bag lives up to the advertisements, we should be safe if there is a dangerous substance inside.” Elle lay the bag on the table and picked up the knife through the plastic.
“Brilliant! Where did you learn that?” asked Andrew.
“I’ve been studying everything I can get my hands on while sitting at the front desk. While this isn’t exactly what they described on one of the security blogs, when I saw the two-gallon bags, I knew it was worth a try.” Elle slipped the edge of the knife under the corner of the envelope.
“Just a moment.” Alex turned to Kimberly. “Go watch from near the door. If anything happens, get out of the room first and ask questions later.”
“But—”
“Great idea. Alex, I think you should join her. You too, Andrew. Get out of the house and call 911 and the agents if anything looks even a tiny bit off. I’d rather have the FBI laughing at us than something worse happen.”
Alex herded them to the door to the garage, and Andrew held up the keys.
Elle slowly worked on the envelope.
“You know Alan will kill us if something happens to her,” whispered Andrew.
“It was Elle’s idea. We can’t baby her because he wants us to.” Alex kept a light grip on Kimberly’s arm.
“Done. And no powder.” Elle tipped the bag, and a birthday card slipped halfway out of the envelope.
“Can you get the card all the way out and open it?” asked Adam.
“I think so.” Elle manipulated the bag for an eternal minute. “There. Definitely no powder.”
Adam motioned the others over. “Let’s keep it in the bag.”
Kimberly’s grip on Alex’s hand tightened as they took their seats at the table. Her face lost all color. “That’s Jeremy’s handwriting.”
