She took a deep breath and walked into the backyard, with a wide smile, she didn’t feel, pasted on her lips. The familiar yard was decorated with flags, balloons, and ribbons, and the spirit of the holiday engulfed her.
“Hey, look who’s making an entrance,” Louie said cheerfully.
They were gathered around the four-burner grill, and Tom was entertaining, wearing an apron printed with three lines of text—”The man, the myth, the legend.”
Leaning against a tree, Steve smoked a cigar and held a beer in his hand. He raised the bottle to greet her, and she waved back. His eyes were sad, but he was smiling. He frowned when he saw her bruised face and slightly swollen jaw.
Brian gave her a quick hug. “Welcome back!”
“Thanks! And… sorry for everything. I really am, you know,” she said. “I can explain what happened.”
“No need, we’ve all gone through these kinds of things. Plus, this guy already explained,” Brian replied, pointing toward Agent Weber.
“Hey, Jer,” she greeted him, “welcome to California, again,” she laughed.
“Yeah… I get great air miles, you know, worth it every time.” He gulped some beer. “Good to be here, good to meet everyone I heard so much, yet so little, about. Thanks for having me,”
“Hey, boss,” Louie said, giving her a quick side hug. “Did you have time to miss any of us? Or were you too busy playing with the bigwigs of the nation’s capital?”
“Sure, you most of all, of course. By the way, I was in Norfolk, not DC,” she replied, chuckling. “What have you been up to?”
He threw a side glance toward Weber, then said, “Umm… maybe I’ll fill you in later.”
Weber laughed and Alex joined him.
“Yeah, Jer, your presence is causing some concern in this group.”
She turned toward Tom and his famous grill.
“Welcome back,” he said, hugging her without letting go of the barbecue fork. “I’m proud of you, just so you know,” he said quietly. “You handled things like a pro.”
She looked in his understanding blue eyes and felt a lump in her throat. She was home, with her family.
“Our girl is back,” Claire cheered and kissed her on both cheeks. “What would you like to drink, my dear?”
“Stella would be nice, thanks much!”
“I’ll get that,” Louie offered.
“So, what are we having for dinner tonight?” she asked Tom.
“I’m making us an Independence Day special, burgers cordon bleu, with mushroom and Swiss.”
“Umm… not sure I know what that is, but it sounds delish!”
“It’s a double cheeseburger really, but grilled differently. I stack the two patties on top of each other on the grill, with the cheese between them. By the time the patties are done just right, the cheese is molten. On the side, I grill the portabellas with a drop of oil in the center, and cover them with a thin slice of Swiss when they’re about done. Then everything stacks on a plate, next to the bun, if you still want that. Artery popping, truly American, served with fries, onions, and pickles, and washed down with copious quantities of beer.”
“Mmm… mmm… yummy!” Alex said, salivating a little. “And that’s why he is the man, the myth, the legend.”
“Hear, hear,” Steve said, speaking his first words since she’d arrived, approaching the group slowly, hesitantly.
Sam and Richard came out of the house, chatting lively.
“What did we miss?” Sam asked. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey, Sam,” she said and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Hello, Richard.”
Louie appeared from inside the house carrying a tray with champagne glasses and a chilled bottle of 1981 Krug Brut. Steve took the bottle and started to uncork it.
“Now that we’re all gathered together again,” Tom said, “to celebrate our independence and the successful completion of another case, please join me in savoring this champagne and in celebrating another milestone.”
The cork popped loudly, and everyone hollered and cheered.
“It’s weird and unusual though,” Tom continued after taking a sip of champagne, “to have such a celebration without the client present. This is a first, I must say. We do understand the circumstances, and we are grateful we have made a new friend instead.” Tom raised his glass to Weber.
“Thank you,” Weber said.
“Did we at least get paid on this case?” Richard asked, causing a roar of laughter around the smoking grill.
“Spoken like a true finance executive,” Tom laughed. “Yes, this time we got paid, and quite generously I might add. This CEO is very happy,” he added with a wink, putting his hand on his chest.
“Whew, I’m relieved. I was afraid I’d get fired after the third unpaid case,” Alex quipped.
“I might be the most clueless person in this gathering,” Richard said, “but what exactly are we celebrating? What was the case about?”
A brief moment of silence engulfed the joyful crowd.
“It’s confidential, I’m afraid,” Alex replied, triggering another roar of laughter. Jeremy joined in, starting to feel more relaxed with the crowd.
“Was it hard?” Richard pressed on. “Was it a difficult case?”
“Umm… I’m afraid that’s need to know, Richard,” Alex replied, still chuckling.
“You weren’t gone all that long, were you?”
“Nope, just little over a month, that’s all.”
“Nice,” Richard said. “Nicely done, wrapping a case in a month. I’m impressed.”
“Well, thank you kindly,” she replied with a warm smile of appreciation.
“Not only that, but Alex sold this case too,” Tom added. “I wasn’t even involved. Congratulations!”
“Well, can you tell us any details about this case, something to sink our teeth into?” Brian joined the conversation.
Alex looked at Jeremy and they both shared a conspiratorial smile.
“No,” she replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What case?”
“Good one, you guys,” Brian said, sipping the last drop of his champagne. “Then, what champagne?”
“And what burgers?” Tom added, turning his attention toward the grill. “So, if we can’t discuss the case we’ve just closed, let’s focus on the future instead. Alex, you have a new case lined up, tomorrow morning first thing.”
“Huh?” she asked, surprised, then moved next to Jeremy and covered his ears with her hands. “Can you tell me what it’s about?”
Tom winked at her and replied, “It’s need to know at this time.”
…80
The doorbell startled Sylvia; she had dosed off on her couch, and the book she’d been reading had dropped to the floor.
She looked at her watch and frowned. It was late… Who could it be so late?
The doorbell rang again, prolonged, impatiently.
“Yeah, who is it?” she asked and looked through the peephole at the unfamiliar man standing there.
“Ms. Copperwaite?” the stranger asked.
She replied through the locked door, “Yes, who is this?”
“I am here to discuss your gambling addiction and what that will do to your career.”
She felt the blood drain from her veins and her heart starting to pound in a deafening rhythm.
“We can do this through the locked door if you prefer,” the stranger added unperturbed, “for your neighbors’ enjoyment. There’s no entertainment like real-life drama, you know.”