Page 42 of Ripple Effect
“Seeing Cal with a gun didn’t set off any alarms over the years?”
I actually laugh. “My family—all of them—grew up on 3,500 acres which border water, Dr. Powell. Guns were necessary on Akin Hill to keep away wildlife and venomous snakes.” I lean forward. “I understand they are not something everyone understands. But in an environment where scaring off a wild boar could prevent injury, you learn to respect them.” I sit back against the couch.
“You weren’t surprised when you saw Cal had guns at home, then.”
“No. Not at all. Listen, it wasn’t like we were in a competition where we were going tit-for-tat in a fight to finish where I had to have more shoes than he had guns.” That earns me a deep chuckle. “He had, at the time, a few handguns and a rifle. It was less than my brother and father each kept at their homes on the estate.”
“So, linking them with his military background never crossed your mind?”
“Not at all. I remember weekends where we’d load up the truck, head out to Akin Hill, and he’d go out on the ATVs with Sam, Josh, and Dad. All of them were prepared in case they ‘ran into problems.’” I laugh. “Mom used to call it their playtime. Aunt Lukie would call it their male-insecurity bonding time.” I smirk.
“And what would you be doing while the men would be ‘bonding’?” Now, even Dr. Powell can’t say the word without laughter in his voice.
“Four women and a wedding, Doctor,” I drawl. “There wasn’t a weekend we were at the estate when I didn’t have my wedding binder in my hand. I was coordinating schedules to try on dresses, interview photographers, tastings, printers; you name it, I was calling the shots.”
“Cal wasn’t involved in planning?”
I purse my lips. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. I knew what he didn’t want, and he had a few absolutes. Plus, he was in charge of my bouquet. Beyond that, there were only a few things he really wanted to be involved with.”
“Like what?”
“The food.” But even as I say it, a remembered twinge runs through me.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” I try to push the memory aside.
But Dr. Powell won’t let me. “It’s something,” he probes gently.
“It’s just…it’s silly.” I wave my hand to move past it.
“Libby, tell me,” he encourages me.
Knowing he won’t let me out of it, my lips twist. “Cal had been away until the day of his birthday on a business trip,” I begin.
27
Calhoun
Twelve Years Ago from Present Day
“Hey, baby,” I call Libby from the plane that’s about to land at Joint Base Charleston.
“Happy Birthday, my love. Did you decide where you want to go for dinner tonight?”
“To tell you the truth, Libs, I’m exhausted. Do you mind if we celebrate at home—just the two of us?”
There’s a purr in her voice when she responds. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll pick up something on my way home from the studio. I’m wiped from dealing with the caterer anyway.”
A shaft of guilt slides through me. It hurts more than the knife that nicked me in the alley in Belgrade last week. Fortunately, that particular cut looks like I sliced it open on a plastic chair, which is exactly what I told my fiancée when I video chatted with her.
Libby’s taken on so much of our wedding planning. Even for a “family and friends” event, she’s still wearing herself to the nub. But she thinks I’m trying to wrap a major business deal when in reality, I’m trying to put the nail in the coffin of a small but persistent group of arms dealers in time to take my wife on a romantic getaway. “How about we head out to the estate this weekend?” I suggest, knowing she’ll appreciate the help of her family with planning a wedding I’m all too eager to attend but know I have no business planning at this late stage.
There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Actually, I was hoping we’d have some time alone.”
My voice drops, uncaring who on the flight can hear what I’m saying over the noise of the transport. Fortunately, the specialized filter on the phone makes it sound to Libby like I’m in a regular office. “You know that sounds better than perfect to me, baby.”
“Good.” She lets out a breath of air I immediately pick up on.
