Page 133 of Protecting You

“Got it.” The line went dead.

He shot a smile in the rearview to his daughter, tipping his phone toward Alyssa so she could see that it had been her cousin finally getting back to him.

Their destination was a sprawling building big enough to accommodate the entire population of his hometown. White siding sparkled against the bright blue sky and lush grass spread out before it. At one end, a circular room lined with windows reflected the perfect gardens. Behind the building, the Atlantic was a deep blue-gray, white-topped waves crashing against rocks on a jetty, where a few people hopped from rock to rock.

“Can we go out there, Daddy?”

“Maybe, after the party. We’ll have to see.”

The drive circled in front of overlarge double doors that opened beneath a cupola in the center of the structure. A weathervane on top turned lazily in the breeze. The wide porch was decorated with planters overflowing with flowers and greenery.

It hadn’t occurred to him that they’d be coming tothisclub, designed by an old golfing great, written up in architecture magazines. The fact that Callan had heard of it said a lot about the place’s prestige.

It was the kind of place that almost made him want to take up golf.

“Wow,” Peri said. “It’s so pretty.”

“Eh, it’s okay. Not as pretty as Gigi and Papi’s house, though.” He grinned at his daughter in the rearview.

She looked out the window, then at him. “You’re right, Daddy. Their house is prettier.”

Alyssa twisted to face her. “I agree. It’s much nicer.”

“If it’s that pretty,” Brooklynn said, “maybe I need to take pictures of it. Will you show me someday?”

“Can I, Daddy?”

“Sure.” Not that there’d ever be occasion for Brooklynn to go to his family’s house, but he couldn’t exactly say no. He stopped in front of the stairs leading to the entrance, and a uniformed attendant opened Alyssa’s door. Callan didn’t have an angle to see his face. “I’ll be back in…”

His own door opened, and another uniformed attendant said, “Welcome, sir.”

Alyssa leaned in and whispered, “Valet parking.”

Of course. He wasn’t used to the rich-and-pampered lifestyle.

“I’d rather park it myself.” He lifted his phone. “I have to return a call anyway.” And he wasn’t going to hand over his keys. Who knew if they’d need to make a quick getaway.

The valet looked confused. “Oh, then I guess, uh…”

The other man came around the front. He didn’t wear the valet’s uniform but a light gray suit with a name tag pinned to the breast pocket that readRobert. He was older with deeply tanned skin and salt-and-pepper hair. A manager of some sort?

Callan’s senses prickled. Was this one of Ghazi’s men? He directed Callan to where he should park.

Ghazi had unlimited resources. For all Callan knew, he’d had people in place at Gavin Wright’s club for months.

Though he hated to leave Peri and Alyssa alone even for a second, he drove away. If Ghazi’s men were watching the entrance—assuming Robert hadn’t been one of them—they wouldn’t see Callan enter with Peri. Even if they were watching, they had no reason to believe Peri was related to him. They’d assume Peri was with Brooklynn, maybe an extended family member.

He dialed Michael and had a short but very informative conversation, which he was still mulling when he jogged up the steps of the country club.

Stopping just inside the door, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Grand and pretentious, probably. Michelangelo on the ceilings and Mozart playing over hidden speakers.

This wasn’t that.

The circular foyer, tiled in white marble, mirrored the shape of the cupola rising overhead, its windows letting in natural light. A round table in the center held a flower arrangement that rose to at least a foot above his head.

Paintings of the golf course and the Maine coastline were displayed in simple gold frames between the doors leading off the space.

It was elegant and understated and tasteful.

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