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“Yes, it’s an old-fashioned pub called The Best Bar and Grill. My father and mother loved to spend date-nights there in the early days. They knew the previous owners quite well. Now the son runs the place, and he’s a good boss.”
Beau piped in, “We’ve talked Loretta into coming back to the FBI full-time. She’s a profiler and in the past worked out of the San Francisco office.”
Lori glared at Beau, wondering if he teased by using her full name. Speaking to the room at large, she said, “Please, call me Lori. I’m not particularly fond of Loretta. It was my mother’s choice to name me after her grandmother, who I understand welded a mean broom and had many domineering traits.”
Beau snorted with derision teasingly but before anyone could answer, a tall woman baring a tray full of hors d’oeuvres entered and everyone looked her way. Striking to say the least, her slender appearance made one wonder if she’d gone slightly overboard on her dieting.
Not that Lori would ever comment, she knew how today’s world influenced the ridiculous view of how a woman should look to be beautiful. Putting the tray on the coffee table, the beauty approached Lori who stood when she saw the other female heading her way.
“I’m Rachel Kozak, Mellie’s mom.” Suddenly, Lori saw the emotion deep in the other’s eyes and knew this woman had been devastated by the close call her daughter had experienced.
“I’m pleased to meet you. Your Mellie is very brave and level-headed. The others who escaped can thank her for kicking in when she was needed.”
Mellie entered and overheard. “Mom… Dad, did you hear that? I’m a level-headed kid. You should respect me more, let me have my freedom. Right, Agent Lori?”
Lori laughed. “It’s just Lori. And I’m sure you’ve earned certain freedoms, my friend. Like the rest of us did at your age.”
Hands across her heart, Mellie’s theatrics had everyone groaning. “Oh no, don’t burst my bubble. I’ve been on a pedestal for days and your unthinking, conservative words probably shot me down. I’m a heartbroken puddle.”
Beau piped up. “And a lousy actress. When are the drinks coming?”
Laughing, not at all put off by his words, Mellie rushed from the room amidst the others chuckling. In seconds, she returned with a tray filled with effervescent champagne glasses. “Dad bought this bubbly to celebrate. And he said I could have a glass too. Okay Mom?”
Rachel had taken a seat near Lori and looked up when her daughter pushed this limit. She seemed unsure as to how to respond until she glanced at Lori who grinned her approval. “Yes, but just half and only one.”
“Yesss!!” Mellie did a little dance and delivered a glass to each of them. Her father made a toast. “To Lori and Beau. Thank you for being in the right place at the right time when we needed you. You have our heartfelt thanks.”
Everyone lifted a glass before taking a sip. Then Rachel leaned over and asked, “Lori, are you planning to stay in Houston? I heard Beau say that you’ve taken a job here with this FBI office.”
Lori, careful to sip slowly, put her glass on the table nearest and answered, “Yes, I promised my father that I’d stay around after he saw how happy I was to be back home.”
“So you have a home here. Where do you live?”
“Not now. My dad had to sell it when Mom became sick with kidney failure. With mounting medical bills, he saw no other way. After she passed, strangely from pneumonia, he got lung cancer and things became worse. Finally, we ended up in a cheap rented condo.”
“It’s crushing for many people when sickness hits the family. I work in real estate, and I’ve seen a lot of sadness when people are forced to give up the homes they worked their whole lives to buy. It makes one feel fortunate when they can afford good insurance.”
“Oh, my folks had insurance, but not the kind that covered their medicine. That’s what did the most damage. Mom’s health decreased over a long period and by the time I became aware of her state, they’d pretty much lost most everything. They even gave up one of their insurance premiums and… well, let’s just say I helped the best I could.”
What Lori wouldn’t admit was how selling her own condo in San Francisco had taken care of some of the bills but had left them stranded so only by living poor and her taking a job with flexible hours, had they been able to manage.
While Beau and Luke talked on the other side of the room, Lori carried on her conversation with Rachel about available properties in the city. All the while, she watched as Mellie snuck a second glass of the bubbly.
Not letting on she’d seen the imprudence; she knew by his eyelift that Beau had been aware of his goddaughter’s antics as well. He stood and moved over to the young girl, now playing the innocent. Bending over her sitting cross-legged on the floor, he pulled her pony-tail and grinned. “How are the other students that were actually hurt in the incident? Have you heard from any of them?”
Not unhappy at being caught, Mellie shrugged, took just a small sip, and put the glass down, then grimaced when Beau moved it out of her reach. “I talked to Vanessa and Shelley. They’re both playing up their wounds, so they won’t have to return to class. Guess I can’t blame them. It’s not like I got injured.”
Lori heard Mellie and interrupted, “Yes, you did, Mellie. You went through a terrifying incident. A person doesn’t just shrug it off and say I have no physical damage so I’m fine. It scared the hell out of everyone. Witnessing a person with a gun intending to kill you is devastating.”
Mellie turned her way and Lori saw her words had connected. The teen gulped back the tears that flooded and spoke low, “That’s just it, Lori. If she… the TV said her name was Jessica Boland, if Jessica wanted to kill anyone, why didn’t she? After all, she had a gnarly rifle… an AK-15. We all saw the ridiculous damage it did to the room when she shot it up. But she never aimed the gun at any of the kids. They were injured from the damage made by the bullets.”
Mellie shrugged as if not able to understand. “I lay awake at night seeing her eyes from under the hood, her terrified face. She shut them you know, like she didn’t want to see what she was doing. She looked as scared as we were. Not deadly. Not justified to be doing what she came to do. Not a killer.”
Lori moved to be level with Mellie, knowing the strength the girl had clung to had begun to unravel. When Mellie threw herself toward Lori, she caught her, and they both rocked back and forth.
“I don’t know why I’m being so silly,” Mellie complained after a few seconds. “I thought I had it under control… the sickness and the dread of facing the others.” Her voice hardened. “I’m strong.”
“You’re also a little tipsy, honey. If you don’t want to lose that control, don’t drink alcohol.” Lori’s voice teased softly.
