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Frank catches the eye of the barman, who takes our glasses. “Balvenie and Laphroig, right?” We nod.
“Don’t spread it around the family. I don’t want everyone worrying about me. Let’s make dad’s party a stellar event.”
He gulps. “May have mentioned it to Liz.”
My basilisk stare should make him quake in his boots. “Make sure she doesn’t spill to Diana and Meggy. And definitely not to Mum.”
“How do you know Ian will keep his gob shut? He loves to pass on info.”
“We’ve had that conversation. Besides, he’s still looking for information, not passing it on.”
“What about Cress? She must know. How does she feel about it?”
I rub my eyes and fumble for my drops. After such a long day, my eyes are burning. I squeeze them in without having liquid running out. Then I keep my eyes shut for at least thirty seconds before I answer. “We don’t talk much about it.”
“You’re joking.”
I take a deep breath. “No joke. When she found out what was going on, she was, well, we had quite a knockdown, drag out.”
Frank’s eyes are on stalks.
“I told her I wanted her to stay in Chicago and be safe.” I pause, then deliver the punchline. “It didn’t go well.”
“Evidently.”
“She pointed out Faez could make her a target wherever she was. Couldn’t disagree.”
The barman comes back with our refilled glasses. Frank grabs his and swallows it down, then hands back the empty glass. “Another, sir?”
“No thanks. Two is enough for me.” Frank smirks.
“I’d like a limoncello to take it to the room.”
“Can’t picture you drinking that muck.” Frank grimaces as the waiter returns with a small bottle and a glass.
“It’s for Cress, you berk.”
“Cress drinks that muck?”
“She’s a huge fan. From her trips to Italy.”
He gives an exaggerated shudder. We fall silent, not sure where to go with this conversation.
I take a sip of whisky and regard my brother thoughtfully. “Frank,” I start. He holds up his hand to stop me.
“I’ll try for as much damage control as I can. Liz has been pretty busy with the kids since we got here, so I doubt there has been much time for gossip.”
I glance at my watch and finish my drink. “Time for bed. Maybe your pillow talk could be a warning to keep all this to herself.”
“Fine.” He shuts down and we go to our rooms without another word.
ChapterEighteen
Max
After my chat with Frank, I find Cress checking hockey scores on her iPad.
“Are the Blackhawks winning,” I ask, knowing she’s been unhappy that she can’t get the broadcasts here.
