by Ann Gimpel
She squinted against the glare of oncoming headlights and flashed her brights at the other driver, who retaliated by flashing twice back at her—and leaving his high beams on. Julie shook her fist his way, more amused than annoyed. Compared with Orestes Conom, the dude with his brights on was a piker.
Her phone trilled. She debated not answering it, but a quick glance at the display convinced her to pick up. Her stomach tightened as she clicked accept. “Hello, Dr. Smithwick.”
“Dr. Wray. So glad I reached you.”
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Was this when he tried to sack her? She was almost certain he couldn’t, but she wasn’t looking forward to the ensuing fight as she tested how solid her tenured status truly was.
“Sounds as if you’re in a car,” he went on. “Do you need to pull over?”
Damn it. He is going to fire me.
“No. The phone is on Bluetooth. What can I do for you?”
May as well get this over with. In truth, she could probably snag another faculty job, but it added a layer of inconvenience to her life.
Could be a plus. It would give Brice and me freedom to settle wherever we want.
Dr. Smithwick blew out a noisy breath that crackled against her ears. She moved the volume indicator down a couple of notches, waiting.
“I regret our exchange in my office the other day, my dear. I wanted to let you know Dr. Conom is no longer associated with our faculty.”
Her jaw dropped open. “W-what?” she stammered. Out of all the things she’d expected when she’d seen Smithwick’s name on her phone, this was at the very bottom of the list.
“Do we have a faulty connection?” he inquired. “Should I call back?”
“No. I thought I heard you say you’d terminated Orestes Conom.”
“I did say that, although it’s counter to personnel regulations to discuss one faculty member with another. In this instance, I’ve made an exception because of your graduate student, Ms. Johnson. Anecdotal evidence suggests Dr. Conom may have been behind her recent abduction. He’ll be facing criminal charges.”
Anecdotal evidence, my ass.
“Thank you for letting me know.”
“Oh, I’m not quite finished. I’ve been in contact with Ms. Johnson’s husband. You may not know, but he’s also a graduate student in our linguistics department. In any event, Dr. Reinwall’s been involved as well.”
“Who’s he?” Julie spoke up, swallowing reflexively to move saliva down her dry throat.
“She. Elizabeth Reinwall heads up our linguistics department. She’s also my wife.”
Julie sputtered, at a loss for words. Who would have guessed a dried-up stick-in-the-mud like Smithwick would be married? Maybe her assessment of how he viewed females in academe had been way off base.
He chuckled. “Yes, well, we keep our relationship quite low key. In any event, you’ll be relieved and pleased to know Ms. Johnson has returned to the United States. I believe she sustained mild injuries, but she’ll be back working for us in no time.”
“Wonderful news,” Julie managed, determined not to disclose her role in the rescue. Smithwick might find out soon enough. Or not. It depended if he had access to the same contacts her father had leveraged to cordon off her dig site.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it? All’s well that ends well. Will we see you after the first, or will you be returning to Egypt right away?”
“Not until after the first of the year. I’ll be celebrating the holidays with my family this year.”
“Excellent. Excellent. I’ve worried you had no personal life.”
Yeah, I’ll just bet you have.
If I was a man, you’d never mention my personal life.
She smothered her annoyance. He was trying. It must have cost him to reach out to her after his earlier stance about giving Orestes credit for the dig. “Thank you so much for getting hold of me, Dr. Smithwick. Have a merry Christmas.”
“You too, my dear. You too. After the first, Elizabeth and I would like to have you and the Johnsons over for dinner one night. We’ll come up with something that works for everyone.” He disconnected.
She inhaled, blew it out, and did it twice more. If she discounted the my dears, it was the best conversation she’d ever had with Smithwick.
She pulled into her driveway, surprised to see lights on in her house. What the hell? She hadn’t left anything on. She was certain of it. She’d departed in broad daylight, for one thing. And she hated to waste anything, including electricity.
She got out of the 4Runner, pulled her duffle and computer bag out of the back, and locked everything up before running lightly up her front steps. The door was locked, but while she fished for a key, it swung open.
“I was just beginning to get worried.” Ariel beamed at her. “Come on in, sweetie. Let me pour us a drink.”
Julie dropped her gear in the spot where she usually left things to the right of the front door beneath an antique oak mirrored hall tree. Too tired for subtlety, she asked, “What are you doing here, Mom?”
“Come on in. We can sit at the table and talk for a bit.”
Julie rounded the corner and stared at a huge bouquet of flowers resting in the middle of her dining-room table. “They’re beautiful, but—”
“Doug Johnson delivered them,” her mother said. “They are lovely. He stopped by a little bit ago on his way to the hospital to meet Brice and his wife.” She pushed a glass of amber spirits toward Julie.
Hooking her foot around a chair’s leg, Julie pulled it out enough to drop into it. She curled her hands around the tumbler and took a deep swallow, savoring the burn of what turned out to be Irish whiskey as it traveled down her throat.
“I’m here,” her mother said, “because Chris and I decided we’d do everything we could to maintain the illusion you never left the country. I’ve answered the door, pretending I was you, kept the lights on, and done what I could to make it appear you were here.”
Julie set the glass down and raked her hands through her hair until her fingers tangled in the braids she’d forgotten about. “How will that work?” She stared at her mother. “People saw me over there.”
“Really?” Ariel quirked a dark brow. “Who?”
Julie thought about it and gave her parents points for shrewdness. “I’m guessing the slaves won’t say anything. Even if they did, they don’t know me, and who would believe them?”
“Exactly. The mercenaries know how to keep their mouths shut.”
“Oops.” Julie closed her teeth over her lower lip.
“What?” Ariel leaned forward.
“The man guarding the dig site. He had one of my books, and I signed it for him with a month and year.”
“Eh.” Her mother shrugged. “Nothing to worry about. You were at the site early this month. Beyond that, he’s another mercenary. Not all of them run around wearing bandoliers and brandishing sabers.” She offered a toothy grin.
Julie laughed. “You’re impossible. How’s Sarah?”
“Really good. Out of ICU. Should be coming home with Angus tomorrow. To Brice’s. Another reason I’m in this neighborhood is to check in with her tenants and see if there’s any way we can cut the lease off a bit early.”
“What’d they say.” The whiskey buzzed pleasantly, humming along her tense nerves, relaxing her.
“Haven’t gone yet. I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Your dad should be home by then.”
“That long?” Surprise ricocheted through her. “Where’d they fly the plane to?”
Ariel waved a finger at her. “Classified information.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Stupid of me to ask.”
“No comment.” Ariel poured another finger of whiskey into her glass. “Before you turn in, how are things with Brice?”
Warmth rose from her chest in a wave that washed over the top of her head. “Good. Exceptional. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
Her mother nodded knowingly. “Don’t give me an answer
right now, but think about it. Sarah and Angus are planning a mid-March wedding—”
“And you want to make it a double.” Julie finished her mother’s sentence.
Ariel clasped her hands together, dark eyes shining. “It would be perfect. Both my girls. But no pressure.”
“Yeah. None at all. I like the idea. When Sarah and I were little, we used to playact getting married at the same time. It’s a twin thing.”
“I know. I was there. Finish your drink and get some rest. I’m bunking on the couch in your guestroom.”
Julie drained her glass. If nothing else, the liquor would knock her out. “Is Susan here yet?”
“Not quite. She and her fiancé and his son are in Portland. They made good time. She said they’ll be here midmorning. Lupe’s already bought enough food to feed an army, and as soon as Susan arrives, they’ll dive into cooking.”
“I still can’t believe I went through all that in Egypt, and it’s not Christmas Eve yet.”
Ariel reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. “The world’s not all that big. Nothing like fast planes and hardy men to pound that home.”
Julie stood, surprised she hadn’t pitched head down on the table. “Oh yeah. Another piece of good news. Smithwick called while I was driving here. He fired Conom, and he apologized. Even invited me for dinner—along with the Johnsons.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. I did a little digging and figured out the Reinwall woman was married to Smithwick. I’m the one who told Doug to go to his department head.”
Julie tossed her head back and laughed. “Mom. You’re amazing.”
Ariel got to her feet and made a self-deprecating gesture. “Once a tactician, always a tactician. I shouldn’t admit this, but I’ve had more fun these past couple of days than I’ve had in years.”
“Fun, huh? Maybe you should have gone with Dad.”
“Nope.” Ariel shook her head emphatically. “If I’d done that, you wouldn’t have had an opportunity to mend fences with Brice.”
“Did you mastermind that too?”
“No, sweetie. Whatever happened between you and Brice is all on you.”
“Really?”
Ariel patted her arm. “Really. I’m thrilled though. A double wedding...”
“I thought you said I had time to think about it.”
“You do. Now, off to bed with you.”
Julie was still chuckling when she shambled to her bedroom and fell heavily onto her bed, not bothering to do anything beyond unlacing and toeing off her boots. She’d lived in the clothes she was wearing for two days. What was one more night?
BRICE WAS SO TIRED he couldn’t remember the gate code. He stared stupidly out his open car window, willing the string of numbers to materialize so he could drive the remaining few feet to his home. He’d waited at the hospital until the ER doc verified Sarah was stable and didn’t require being admitted.
Doug had shown up within minutes of their arrival, and his reunion with Katie was so tender, Brice fought against very unprofessional tears. Love shone from the Johnsons, palpable, tender, all-consuming. It was the same way he felt about Juliana.
It had been hard to leave her at the airport. He’d selfishly wanted her to come along with him and Katie, but she’d looked trashed with dark circles beneath her eyes. He’d told her to go home and get some rest. The hug and kiss they’d shared had been fraught with promise. And he’d see her soon.
Very soon.
He gave his fingers free rein, and they tapped the succession of keys to open the gate. Brice snorted. Once he’d removed his tired brain from the equation, muscle memory had taken over. He nudged the car into the driveway and shut off the engine, collecting his thoughts.
The medical bags could wait, but he gathered his personal items. A glance at his phone told him it was just past eleven. Morning would come soon. Julie had promised to be at Overlake by midday.
An idea struck him and made him smile. He’d have plenty of time in the morning to stop by a jewelry store. He knew what she liked, at least he had once upon a time. He’d buy her an engagement ring. She’d have to have it sized, but he’d pick something lovely and old-fashioned, reminiscent of the antiquities she loved so much.
He’d just pushed his car door open when light spilled down his front steps. It took him a moment to understand someone had opened the door.
Angus ran down the steps and across the driveway to his car. “Welcome home, mate. What was all this hush-hush stuff? Where the devil were you?”
Brice reached across to snag his duffle and got out of the BMW, shutting the door behind him. “How’s Sarah doing?”
“She’s fine. Out of ICU. Where were you? You’ve been AWOL for two days.”
Brice shook Angus’s extended hand. “Remember how you couldn’t tell me exactly what you did that earned you a private jet ride?” At Angus’s nod, he went on. “I can’t disclose anything, either. But things worked out. My patient is alive and well.”
Angus’s gaunt face split into a smile. “Grand news. I figured it was one of those QT military operations when Sarah’s mom went around sowing bits and pieces of a story.”
“Ariel? Usually she’s so smooth, you’d never suspect a thing.”
“Most wouldn’t, but I have a background in covert ops.” He pried the bag from Brice’s hand. “Come on in. We’ll have a nightcap and drink to your success.”
Brice walked up the stairs and into the house, pulling the door closed. Lupe would have long since gone to bed, or he’d have bid her a good evening.
Angus dropped Brice’s bag at the foot of the stairs, and they walked through to the living room. The tree smelled wonderful. Brice stood for a moment, inhaling the pine scent and thinking how much better it was than gunpowder.
Angus thrust a glass into his hand. “Have a wee nip. ’Tis good for your heart.”
Brice snorted. “Oh really? Not what I hear from cardiology.” He took a sip, rolling the mellow liquid around in his mouth before he swallowed it. “Thanks. That’s good.”
“Should be. ’Tis Scotch and more than thirty years old.”
Brice sank onto a nearby sofa. “Is Timmy still here?”
Angus shook his head. “Nay. His mum and the priest came for him early today. You should have seen the wee laddie’s eyes. He was so excited to be going home.”
“So, you met Father John?”
“Aye. Seems a solid chap. He held out his arms, and the boy ran right into them, nattering away a mile a minute. Blood comes through, every single time.”
“Not every time,” Brice said, “but I’m very glad this worked out.” He drank more of the Scotch. Now was as good a time as any to come clean about Julie. Especially since Angus was marrying Sarah, he had a right to know.
“Aye.” Angus cocked his head. “Your mind is busy.”
“Were you a psychic in another life?”
“I’ve been accused of it before. I chalk it up to being raised in the magical, mystical Highlands.”
Brice snorted. “I won’t go into detail. It’s late, and I’m tired, but Juliana and I were a couple long ago. We began dating in high school and continued through two years of college. A misunderstanding drove a wedge between us.”
“I know about the wedge.” Angus skewered him with his keen, dark gaze. “Sarah told me.”
“Good. Couples shouldn’t have secrets, and I wasn’t planning to out her. The important part is Julie and I found our way back to each other. I plan to ask her to marry me tomorrow, and we can’t have the wedding soon enough to please me. We’ve lost fifteen years. I don’t want to lose another day.”
“Fantastic news!” Angus plopped next to Brice and slapped his shoulder. “Make it a double wedding with Sarah and me.”
“When?”
“Middle of March. Sarah will be strong enough by then.”
“So long as Julie agrees, I love the idea.” He drained his glass and set it on a table. The alcohol made his head spin pleasantly.
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“Sure you can’t offer any clues about the mystery mission?” Angus cast an appraising look his way.
“Yup. Very sure. See you in the morning. If I’m not too rummy, we can run.”
“I’ve set my clock for five. I’ll wake you.”
Brice stood. “Deal.”
“Sleep well.”
“You too.” Brice climbed the stairs to his room. Tired, but happy in a way that had eluded him for years. His mother would be thrilled too. She’d always loved Juliana.
For once, he dropped his clothes over a chair, too tired to sort or hang anything. He considered a trip back down to the spa, but discarded it as too much work. Lupe had turned his bed down. He crawled into it and was asleep as soon as he shut his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Juliana woke surprisingly refreshed. Maybe jet lag wasn’t bad because she hadn’t been in Egypt long enough to adapt to the ten-hour time difference between there and the West Coast. Her mother, always an early riser, was already gone, but she’d left a note saying she’d see her at Overlake.
Ariel had made coffee and laid toaster pops and a couple of cereal boxes on the table. Julie rolled her eyes. No wonder she couldn’t cook. Look who she’d grown up with for a role model.
After a shower and clean clothes and coffee, she felt more or less like herself. She was in the car backing out of the driveway before she realized she needed something fancier for tonight. Returning inside, she perused her closet. Not only was she not particularly domestic, she avoided events requiring anything more elaborate than dark slacks, a white blouse, and a jacket. She’d almost given up when she came across a sealed garment bag holding a simple black sheath she hadn’t worn in years.
Among dust bunnies in the bottom of the closet, she located a pair of black pumps. She’d need nylons, but she could pick them up at one of the big drugstore chains. Satisfied she’d done as well as she could, she walked out her front door for the second time and headed toward the hospital.
Even with her hunt for party clothes, she arrived just before eleven. It took her a few minutes to find out where they’d moved Sarah, which was a bed in Med-Surg, one floor down from the ICU.
