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“And this is Lavery Barrett, aka Press, and Vaile Oliver, who most call Zin,” I continued, motioning Tank over to them.
“I’m Henry Bonham, code name Zeppelin, and this here is Magnet, uh, Justin…”
“Magnussen. I’m your best friend, and you don’t know my bloody last name?” I chuckled when he slugged Zeppelin’s arm. “Nice to meet you, miss,” he said to Luisa.
“That’s Atticus and Blackjack. You’ll meet them later,” said Magnet, pointing to the men currently surveilling our surroundings.
We got settled in the waiting vehicles. Press and Luisa rode with Zeppelin and Magnet while I was in the second SUV with Tank, Blackjack, Atticus, and Zin.
When we arrived at the gate, Press expressed concern that they were open via Magnet’s comms.
We proceeded onto the property after Zeppelin suggested we get a vector. Once a few feet beyond the main entrance, Blackjack and Atticus got out of the vehicle, each going to the opposite sides of the residence. When we reached the front portico, I saw a woman standing outside the front door.
“That’s Mrs. Gonzales, the Barretts’ housekeeper,” said Zin, exiting through the rear passenger door. I followed and listened as she informed him Mrs. Barrett had been transported via helicopter to a local hospital. Her husband had gone with her.
After receiving verification from the emergency services, confirming Gonzales’ recounting, I instructed Tank to give Zep the all clear. We walked a fine line between ensuring her reports were accurate and we weren’t putting our assets at risk, and withholding urgent information regarding Press’ mother.
I stood back and watched, already knowing the news he would soon receive would be the worst he could imagine. In the next hour, his life would be shattered, but it wasn’t my place to tell him. He needed to go to his father, needed to hear the devastating news directly from him.
When Magnet rushed Press back to the SUV and the two sped off, I led Luisa inside the house.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked.
“I could use a glass of wine.”
“I’ll get it,” Zin offered. “Red or white?”
Luisa shrugged. “Either, please.”
When he looked over at me, I shook my head and mouthed my thanks.
“I have a really bad feeling about this,” I heard her say under her breath.
“Hmm, yes,” I murmured when she glanced at me as if she expected me to respond.
“You know, don’t you?”
I led her to the sofa and sat beside her. “Whenever someone is airlifted to a hospital, it means they are in critical condition. Otherwise, they would’ve transported Mrs. Barrett to a closer healthcare provider.”
She nodded and looked toward the window. “Press is the best man I know. The best person, other than my sister. He’s done so much for me.”
I squeezed her hand. “He cares very much about you. It’s evident.”
She nodded. “And once again, he’s looking out for me. I just wish I could be there for him, the way he always is for me.”
“I could make a suggestion.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“It’s the little things that make a difference. Touching someone’s hand, fetching them coffee, even a smile can mean everything. Especially when delivered by someone who matters.” Images of Tryst raced through my head. His sweet gestures meant so much to me. I’d never forget our walks to the hilltop to watch the sunset. Particularly that first time, when he’d said he thought I could use a little magic.
“It sounds like you speak from experience.”
“I suppose I do. There are certain people who care about others really well—love really well. I read an article about it. I have a strong feeling Press is one of them.”
It wasanother two hours before we heard anything from him, and then, it was with the news I feared. Mrs. Barrett had passed.
I eavesdropped from outside the kitchen on Zin’s side of the conversation and cringed when he asked Press if he should tell Luisa. No one had asked my opinion, but from what I’d witnessed thus far, Zin Oliver had all the sensitivity of a doorknob. That belief multiplied when I heard him suggest we’d discuss Luisa’s relocation the following day.
