[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
to return early to be there with them.
She was about to start her 'Ta Daaaa' routine, when the barking abruptly stopped. It was like turning off
the TV in the middle of a word.
And then there was silence.
"Oh, no!" She nearly dropped the shortcake tray on the table. All three guests chopped their chatter
short as she raised a hand, listening. This time there'd been no yelps. General Foreman's men were never
close enough to the house to rouse the two dogs, and with the wind blowing like stink ... well, as Jack
would say, something didn't compute. There was no sound other than the wind.
Norman half rose from his chair. "Wilma, what is it?"
"I ... don't ... know." Suddenly, she leaned forward and blew out the nearest candle. Norman and Gloria
got the others, plunging the house into darkness. "We were attacked awhile back," Wilma whispered into
the dark. "Moose and Sugar sounded the same way then, except--"
Norman cut her off. "Ernie, I'm getting our guns." He dropped to a crouch and scampered into the living
room, where he'd tossed his light jacket earlier. Ernie's purse was there with the jacket. Gloria's was on
the floor next to her chair.
In a moment Gloria was holding a silver Colt 45 that glinted even in the darkness. The sharp, metallic
sound of a slide being pulled back and let go testified to her experience. "Too many of these damn illegals
out here," she growled. "I never go out without my protection."
Wilma was already around the table and heading for the bedroom. "It may be nothing, but ... I'll be back
in a second."
"I'll watch the kitchen," Gloria announced. "Ernie, you and Norman take the front room and guard the
door. Stay low and hug the wall, left and right, but stagger your positions so you won't hit each other.
You know how to use your guns, don't you?"
* * * *
Wilma didn't hear the reply. Her Glock, with a round already chambered, was in the top drawer of the
bureau along with her comphone. The first attack at the ranch had been a close call. Murray, Jack and
Nat Foreman agreed that from that day forward she'd call General Foreman's private number any time
she sensed something was amiss. He'd immediately contact his security force and have them close in on
the house from wherever they were. It was the only way Murray felt comfortable leaving her there alone,
even with a couple of Secret Service agents in the background; otherwise she'd have to stay somewhere
safer. Still, it had been Murray they were after that first time, not her. She was probably safer with him
not there, but then the dogs would never have gone quiet after creating a ruckus. Something was up, and
it wasn't good. Nobody was supposed to know he was coming for a visit, either, so it couldn't be that.
She sensed motion behind her, probably Norman scurrying past the doorway on his way back to the
dining room. At least he'd know how to handle himself.
Although the room was pitch black, she went directly to the bureau and retrieved the phone, switching it
on and speaking Foreman's private number from memory. There was no need to actually talk to him,
since his phone would announce the caller, but she waited anyway. If he answered, she'd tell him about
the dogs.
Then she remembered the sliding doors. They opened onto the patio outside the master bedroom.
Normally they were locked and the drapes drawn after dark, but the distraction of having company and
changing outside dining plans at the last moment had made her forget. She turned, saw the distinct outline
of both doors even in the inky darkness, and a shiver ran down her back!
She laid the Glock on the bed, shifted the phone to her left hand and reached for the locking bar leaning
against the wall in the corner. It was gone! Puzzled, she turned back to the bed.
It was the wrong thing to do.
* * * *
The trio of cars approached the golden gate slowly, two agents in the lead car, two in the one trailing
Murray's Beehive. Fifty feet from the gate, the lead car stopped so he could pull around it. He'd already
contacted the gate with the code number sequence that shut off its announcement of visitors back at the
house. That option was another of the gate's safety features, allowing a return to the dwelling
unannounced in the event everyone was away from the property. He'd used it just once when he gave
Connie a surprise birthday party, arriving with her friends from town. Any other time she liked knowing
he was there, and coming up the drive.
He navigated the gate's security procedures and retina scan, then drove through and stopped the Beehive
once again to let the original lead car pull ahead. Tim Stone was in that car's passenger seat. He briefly
rolled the window down and waved an 'okay,' but he looked as if he had a question. Murray rolled his
own window down.
"They do know we're coming?" Tim asked. "Everything looks satisfactory to you?"
"My girlfriend's invited a few guests for the occasion--she wouldn't say who. She knows I'm due in from [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
to return early to be there with them.
She was about to start her 'Ta Daaaa' routine, when the barking abruptly stopped. It was like turning off
the TV in the middle of a word.
And then there was silence.
"Oh, no!" She nearly dropped the shortcake tray on the table. All three guests chopped their chatter
short as she raised a hand, listening. This time there'd been no yelps. General Foreman's men were never
close enough to the house to rouse the two dogs, and with the wind blowing like stink ... well, as Jack
would say, something didn't compute. There was no sound other than the wind.
Norman half rose from his chair. "Wilma, what is it?"
"I ... don't ... know." Suddenly, she leaned forward and blew out the nearest candle. Norman and Gloria
got the others, plunging the house into darkness. "We were attacked awhile back," Wilma whispered into
the dark. "Moose and Sugar sounded the same way then, except--"
Norman cut her off. "Ernie, I'm getting our guns." He dropped to a crouch and scampered into the living
room, where he'd tossed his light jacket earlier. Ernie's purse was there with the jacket. Gloria's was on
the floor next to her chair.
In a moment Gloria was holding a silver Colt 45 that glinted even in the darkness. The sharp, metallic
sound of a slide being pulled back and let go testified to her experience. "Too many of these damn illegals
out here," she growled. "I never go out without my protection."
Wilma was already around the table and heading for the bedroom. "It may be nothing, but ... I'll be back
in a second."
"I'll watch the kitchen," Gloria announced. "Ernie, you and Norman take the front room and guard the
door. Stay low and hug the wall, left and right, but stagger your positions so you won't hit each other.
You know how to use your guns, don't you?"
* * * *
Wilma didn't hear the reply. Her Glock, with a round already chambered, was in the top drawer of the
bureau along with her comphone. The first attack at the ranch had been a close call. Murray, Jack and
Nat Foreman agreed that from that day forward she'd call General Foreman's private number any time
she sensed something was amiss. He'd immediately contact his security force and have them close in on
the house from wherever they were. It was the only way Murray felt comfortable leaving her there alone,
even with a couple of Secret Service agents in the background; otherwise she'd have to stay somewhere
safer. Still, it had been Murray they were after that first time, not her. She was probably safer with him
not there, but then the dogs would never have gone quiet after creating a ruckus. Something was up, and
it wasn't good. Nobody was supposed to know he was coming for a visit, either, so it couldn't be that.
She sensed motion behind her, probably Norman scurrying past the doorway on his way back to the
dining room. At least he'd know how to handle himself.
Although the room was pitch black, she went directly to the bureau and retrieved the phone, switching it
on and speaking Foreman's private number from memory. There was no need to actually talk to him,
since his phone would announce the caller, but she waited anyway. If he answered, she'd tell him about
the dogs.
Then she remembered the sliding doors. They opened onto the patio outside the master bedroom.
Normally they were locked and the drapes drawn after dark, but the distraction of having company and
changing outside dining plans at the last moment had made her forget. She turned, saw the distinct outline
of both doors even in the inky darkness, and a shiver ran down her back!
She laid the Glock on the bed, shifted the phone to her left hand and reached for the locking bar leaning
against the wall in the corner. It was gone! Puzzled, she turned back to the bed.
It was the wrong thing to do.
* * * *
The trio of cars approached the golden gate slowly, two agents in the lead car, two in the one trailing
Murray's Beehive. Fifty feet from the gate, the lead car stopped so he could pull around it. He'd already
contacted the gate with the code number sequence that shut off its announcement of visitors back at the
house. That option was another of the gate's safety features, allowing a return to the dwelling
unannounced in the event everyone was away from the property. He'd used it just once when he gave
Connie a surprise birthday party, arriving with her friends from town. Any other time she liked knowing
he was there, and coming up the drive.
He navigated the gate's security procedures and retina scan, then drove through and stopped the Beehive
once again to let the original lead car pull ahead. Tim Stone was in that car's passenger seat. He briefly
rolled the window down and waved an 'okay,' but he looked as if he had a question. Murray rolled his
own window down.
"They do know we're coming?" Tim asked. "Everything looks satisfactory to you?"
"My girlfriend's invited a few guests for the occasion--she wouldn't say who. She knows I'm due in from [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]