Page 97 of Hacking the Holidays
My wedding day was going to end in handcuffs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ZARA
I showed Sam the screen and waited for his reaction.
“Answer it,” he said without hesitation.
I nodded, then answered. “Hello?”
“Agent Mazini?” A male voice asked, professional and familiar.
“FormerAgent Mazini,” I corrected.
“Yes, of course. This is Special Agent Derek Meadows again, from the FBI's Office of Professional Responsibility. We spoke yesterday.”
I eyed the crowd. “Agent Meadows, I’m a little busy right now. Can I call you back tomorrow?”
“No need, because this will only take a minute. I wanted to keep you apprised of developments in your case.” He paused. “I had mentioned the possibility of referring your alleged collusion and obstruction of justice to the Department of Justice for criminal prosecution.”
My hand tightened on the phone.
“I’m calling to inform you that it will not be happening. Agent Babbs’ testimony has been deemed unreliable. She committed perjury multiple times during her plea deal, and her credibility has been completely undermined. No charges will be filed against you or Sam Monroe.”
I couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Wow. Okay. Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said.
I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the banner, at the gazebo, at Sam’s expectant face.
“What happened?” he asked.
“We’re off the hook.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. “They’re not going to pursue us or press charges. Babbs lied so many times that they can’t use her testimony, and it sounds like they have rescinded her plea deal. We’re clear.”
“That’s the best wedding present we could’ve gotten.” Sam pulled me closer, kissing my temple.
“Yeah …” I shook my head in disbelief. “What a crazy, emotional day. Full of surprises.”
Sam’s grin turned mischievous. “Wait. I have another one.” He stood, helping me out of the carriage.
A group of ten teenagers stood arranged on the gazebo steps, all wearing matching red and green scarves.
“Leavenworth High School Drama Department,” Sam explained, his arm around my waist. “They just finished performingCharlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Musicalrecently and were itching for something new to do. I arranged for them to sing a song for you.”
Before I could say anything, music kicked in—bright, joyful, perfectly harmonized. They launched into an energetic, gorgeous rendition of “All I Want for Christmas is You,” their voices blending beautifully in the winter night. They performed with such enthusiasm and joy, then, to my surprise, just about every person in the town square joined in.
I watched, mesmerized, as I felt tears prickling my eyes. When they finished, the crowd burst into cheers and applause.
“This day could not get any better,” I said, waving my thanks and blowing kisses to the drama students, then watching them bow to the crowd.
Sam’s smile turned wistful. “I only wish Eleanor could be here to celebrate with us.”
“Me too,” I said. “How do you think she’s doing?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Sam pulled out his phone and tapped the video call app. After a few rings, a familiar face filled the screen.
