AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I kiss the top of her head, “We’ll do everything we can to ensure it doesn’t.”
Chapter sixteen
Ariella
Tristan and Marcus sit in front of the house for nearly half an hour before touching their ears and cocking their heads. Jessie said they were likely receiving communications through an earpiece, and I had to agree. The two of them split up, walking the perimeter of the ranch, always staying at least 50 feet from the tree line to minimize their chances of being detected. I doubt they realize the sophistication of the surveillance equipment that has been installed on more than 4,000 acres of farmland.
After they had circled back, they departed in the same direction they had come. Their pace wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t at a crawl either. It took them nearly six hours to walk the entirety of the ranch, and I was on pins and needles the entire time. I kept waiting for something—anything to happen. It never did.
“Is that it? All they did was act like they were out for a Sunday stroll. What was the purpose of that?” I ask, confused.
“If we want to be technical, it’s only Tuesday. So, it would be a ‘Tuesday traipse’ and not a ‘Sunday stroll,’” Jerry says deadpan. His bluntness and literalism make me smile.
“You know, Jerry, you’re really starting to grow on me…”
“Like mold on cheese?” Savannah asks as she walks by with a bowl of popcorn. She sits on the couch and gestures to the seat next to her, which I take. She points to the screen, “Those two were scouting every inch of the place,” she says, tossing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it with her mouth. Alex, who is coming up the stairs from the basement, sees the trick and gets excited.
“How did you do that?” he asks loudly.
“Inside voice, Alex.”
“Can you teach me how to do that?” he asks in a much quieter tone.
“Come with me, young Padawan. I will show you the ways of the force.” Savannah heads toward the kitchen, thankfully leaving the snack.
“What about the popcorn?” Alex questions, chasing after her.
“I was hoping you could help me make more!” He needs no further prompting. Alex loves to help in any way he can.
Patrick sits in the vacated seat next to me and grabs a handful of the buttery treat, popping a few in his mouth. “Your friends weren’t just scouting. They were testing our response to their presence. We have a few trail cameras that hunters use, placed out in the open along the animals’ paths as decoys. They didn’t try to avoid them..”
“And that’s not odd to you?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. If we had responded, they would have learned that we have surveillance equipment, established an initial headcount, learned our reaction times, and whether or not we would leave you unattended to assess the threat.”
Jerry looks up from the computer. “It was a smart move on their part. If we had reacted and confronted them as soon as they made it to the wooded area in front of the house, then they would have known we were in an elevated state of defense. We learned more from them today than they did from us. I call that a win.”
When Patrick notices my confusion, he explains. “We learned that Jordain’s royal guard knows where you and Alex are, while Julietta’s does not. While that could change at any second, her men haven’t been spotted on our property. Jordain’s men have been here, not once, but twice. We also know that Jordain doesn’t seem intent on assassination.”
I lean forward, wholly engrossed in what Patrick is telling me. “How did you come to that conclusion? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for not being assassinated, but those men traveled thousands of miles to get to me and Alex.”
Patrick squeezes my hand. “For starters, they’re only carrying handguns. I thought that was odd at first, but now I think they carry them as a means of protection from wild animals. Not once have they reached for their weapons. If they had planned on taking you out, I guarantee they would be transporting rifles capable of long-range shots.”
Jerry states, without looking up from his computer, “The ORFs are inbound along with Jessie. They’re coming up the driveway and, at present speed, have an ETA of three minutes.”
I scrunch my nose, perplexed. I’m familiar with several military acronyms, having listened to our security over the years. If memory serves me correctly, ETA means the “estimated time of arrival.” ORF, however, is one I’ve never encountered. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I have to ask.
“What is an ‘ORF?’ It sounds like something extraterrestrial.”
Jerry and Patrick laugh at that. “It means ‘Old Retired Folk.’” It takes a second for it to register what he’d said and that the reference was to his parents, but when it does, a small laugh escapes me.
“I’m sure your parents love that!” I tease.
Patrick smiles. “They do. It’s a well-earned title in the military.”
Three minutes later, Jessie opens the door leading from the attached garage, “Lucy! I’m Home!” she says in a horrible Spanish accent. “I come bearing gifts!”
I’m about to ask what she brought when I hear Alex yell from the kitchen, “Pizza! What kind did you get?”
