Page 17 of Mistletoe and Malice
“Too many people. No way to secure the area.”
“Secure it fromwhat? Can we chill a little? I’ve gone to this church all my life. If this is the way it’s going to be everywhere I go, I’ll be insane inside a week.”
“Even better. A padded room makes our job that much easier.”
Her well-educated brain failed to come up with a good retort, so she settled for clasping her arms over her stomach and staring out the window.
“By the way, we’ll need to go over what your schedule will be for the next few days sometime this afternoon. If you know it.”
She scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, if you could give us some idea of where you might be going, who you might be seeing. Whatever it is you do with your time. So we know what to expect.”
Whatever she did with her time? He honestly had no clue who she was.
A smile stretched across her face. “No problem. I’m sure I can come up with something.”
Chapter Eight
Stifling a yawn, Colton took a seat in one of the wingback chairs in Miss Hudson’s upstairs study. He had to admit, the bed in his guest room was every bit as comfortable as his at home, and he’d slept soundly until his alarm sounded at six. Jet lag still had him by the throat, though, so he hoped she would be headed to bed early tonight. By tomorrow, his internal clock should be recalibrated back to Houston time, and he’d be ready for whatever she had planned for her day.
He watched her for a moment, standing next to her feminine French Provincial desk as the printer on the credenza behind it spat out sheets of paper. “Thank you for including us at lunch.”
She grabbed the pages off the printer and walked around the front of the desk. “Of course. Hilda loves cooking for folks, so the more the merrier in her estimation.”
“We appreciate it.”
He’d been surprised when Candace Hudson invited them to join the family for Sunday dinner. Their wealthier clients usually provided meals for them, but not at the formal dining table with the family. That was a first for him.
Now, however, with a hearty lunch of pork loin, sweet potatoes, balsamic-glazed Brussels sprouts, and homemade yeast rolls on board, he was having an even harder time pushing back the fatigue that still pulled at him after yesterday’s transatlantic flight. Especially after only half of the twelve hours’ sleep he’d hoped for.
Finding out last night that Miss Hudson planned to attend the nine-thirty service at church hadn’t been great news. Not only did that mean she wouldn’t be sleeping in, but it meant sitting in a church service for the first time in years. He couldn’t even count on keeping his brain occupied with his job, since scanning a crowd of parishioners all focused on the pastor wasn’t altogether taxing.
Seeing her riled up in the car afterward had been the best part of the morning. If she knew how cute she was, all annoyed like that, she probably wouldn’t work so hard at it.
She handed each of them several of the freshly printed pages. “My schedule, you asked.”
He furrowed his brow as he took one. “For the next month?”
“This week.” She turned her attention to the copy in her hand. “Okay. Tomorrow, I have a prayer breakfast with the board of Lend a Hand Charities at seven sharp at the Statesman Club. Following that, I have a nine o’clock meeting with my current client’s former defense team.”
Now wide awake, he looked up at her, over at Trevor staring wide-eyed at the computer-generated, seven-page schedule, then over to Paul, who shook his head back at him.
“I have a lunch date after that, main dining room at the country club. Following that, I’m heading to the office, and at three-thirty, I’m meeting with my investigator to go over our strategy for our current case. I’ll need to leave the office by five because I have a dinner party fundraiser at the home of Shawn and Rebecca Cantrell, the sponsors for this year’s Save theChildren charity ball coming up in February.Hors d'oeuvresare at seven with dinner served at eight, and I’m not leaving without at least seventy-five thousand in pledges, if I have anything to say about it.”
Colton dropped his hands and schedule in his lap. “And this is onlytomorrow?”
“Right.” She flipped to the next page. “Now, on to Tuesday. I’m meeting the girls at six-thirty for our weekly Bible study at Holy Grounds Coffee downtown, followed by spin class at the fitness center next door. We work out every Tuesday and Thursday at seven-thirty. I’ll be going to the office after that, then I have a three o’clock meeting at?—”
“Hold up.” He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and not a little irritated at the way this woman had confounded him. “Why didn’t you tell us all this last night?”
“You didn’t ask until today.”
He had to give her that one. He’d never considered her days would be spent doing anything of substance. Guess he should’ve given that file sitting on the bedside table down the hall a little attention.
“Do you know how much prep we need to do before you can even set foot out the door tomorrow?” He stood to face her, frustrated that he’d broken his number one rule:Never. Assume.And now they were playing catch-up because he’d completely misread his client. Church this morning hadn’t been a concern since Petersen had previously conducted a security assessment for the elder Hudsons, and their driver was also a certified security specialist. Having a fourth set of eyes and additional expertise on hand made this morning’s trek a non-issue.
But this? A whole other can of worms.
