Page 20 of Big Bad Wolfe

It was her turn to laugh. “Not a doubt in my mind, Champ.”

“I did come on strong last night.”

“Hey, I started it.” She flushed. “I’m not usually— I’ve never gotten so chummy with a man I’ve known only a few hours.”

“Jillian?” A curious female greeting had them both quickly turning. “Hello.”

Zane assessed the mid-fifties woman approaching their table. The blonde sported a chin-length bob, highlighted to look elegantly natural. Impeccable makeup enhanced clear blue eyes and exquisite bone structure. A dove gray linen suit showcased a trim, toned body and very nice legs in moderate heels. He immediately recognized her from TV and internet news articles.

“Lynn,” Jillian said, tucking back a strand of hair in what Zane now recognized as her nervous tell. When the woman smiled inquisitively at Zane, Jillian carefully set her spoon in her dish. Too carefully. “This is … ah … a friend of mine, Zane Wolfe. Zane, meet Lynn Reynolds.”

Wondering if Jillian had purposefully omitted the fact that he was FBI, he offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. You’re Congressman Wade Reynolds’ wife, aren’t you?”

A soft hand shook his, and her smile warmed. “I am. Very nice to meet you as well, Mr. Wolfe.”

“Lynn volunteers at the Hope Center.” Jillian fidgeted with her spoon. “And she’s been invaluable at organizing the upcoming gala ball to raise funds for the remodel and expansion of our building.”

“Not working today?” Lynn asked Jillian. “That’s unusual.”

“Casey had a doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh, I hope he’s all—”

Casey ambled over to the table, finished with his errand. He frowned at Lynn. “I seen you before.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Reynolds bent to the child’s level to speak to him. “I work at your school sometimes. I’ve been to your class and read to you during story hour.”

“Uh huh.” Casey backed against Jillian’s legs. “I don’t feel so good any more, Aunt Jelly. My stomach’s all wiggly.”

“You did inhale your ice cream pretty fast. Take a small sip of water.” She ruffled his hair as he reached for his water glass, and glanced at the other woman. “Sorry, but we should probably go.”

“Of course. We can talk at our scheduled meeting about the ball later this week. Feel better soon, Casey.” She smiled at the kid, nodded at Zane. “Mr. Wolfe.”

As Lynn turned and glided away, Zane studied the guilty misery tightening Jillian’s lovely features. “I’d advise you not to take up poker.”

She swallowed. “I’ve never been any good at hiding what I feel. Oh, God, you don’t think I gave it away, that she suspects anything’s wrong—” She broke off, glanced down at the child leaning against her legs.

“No. You covered it okay while you were face-to-face.”

“She has no idea about Wade and …” She hesitated, spelled out, “D-e-b. She’s so sweet and unselfish about giving her time to our kids, and seems to absolutely adore her husband. Ihaveto unearth the truth … but she’s already suffered so much. I hate the thought of Lynn—and her and Wade’s daughters—being hurt.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s the cheating bastard’s. Remember that.”

Casey gasped. “Zane said thebasketword!”

“Yeah, I did.” Zane sighed. He’d have to remember to watch his mouth.

During the drive home, Casey stayed uncharacteristically subdued in the backseat, Jillian just as quiet in the front.

As they walked in the front door, Casey started to whimper. “Aunt Jelly, I—”

He leaned over and puked, spewing with unerring aim on Zane’s shoes.

Zane jumped back. “Argh!”

“Oh, no!”Casey wailed. “I ralphed ice cream and sprinkles all over Zane!” He burst into noisy tears.

“Hey, whoa!” Zane waved his hands at the sobbing boy. “Don’t cry, kid. I used to play college ball, I’ve seen plenty of puke.”

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