Tuesday
Plotting rescue
KERRY STUMBLED into the parlor of their suite, hair crazily askew in the early morning light. “Gentlemen,” she mumbled, and then her nose pointed toward what she sought: a silver tray with a brilliantly polished pot. “Please tell me that’s coffee.”
“It is indeed,” Donnelly replied, jumping up to pour a cup for her. “You look like you could use some.”
“And you look like you just ran a marathon,” she cracked, taking in his rosy and glistening presence. “You two are going to stop exhausting each other with sexy times at some point, aren’t you?”
“It wasn’t sexy times,” Brandt groused from where he stood near the window. “We hit the gym before the sun was up.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Hit it pretty hard, looks like. Is there anything left of it?”
“Let’s just say that Gabriel was a bit aggressive this morning.”
“I’ll just bet he was,” Kerry replied, a catty tone in her rough morning voice. She turned and took another view of Donnelly. “Lucky you.”
Donnelly smiled. “Don’t I know it.” He handed her a steaming cup. “Have some coffee. We have a big day ahead of us.”
She gratefully took the cup and saucer from him, then sank down onto the antique sofa and slurped luxuriantly. She couldn’t keep a freshly caffeinated smile from spreading across her face. “You are a gentleman, Gabriel. Though I suspect you aren’t always. Am I right, Ethan?” She smiled brightly, though with a hint of teasing in her voice.
“Let’s add Gabriel’s sexual prowess to the list of things we won’t be talking about, ever,” Brandt replied and went back to looking out the window.
Kerry laughed. “Well, now that list has precisely one thing on it. It’s not really a list at all, is it? No sense even keeping it around.” She set her coffee down on the table and pantomimed crumpling up a piece of paper and tossing it over her shoulder. “There. Clean slate.”
Brandt rubbed his eyes. “In answer to your inevitable question, Gabriel—yes, she’s always like this. Always.”
“I think she’s delightful,” Donnelly replied, then turned to Kerry. “You keep right on giving him a hard time.” Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “And I’ll do the same.” He gave a silent-movie wink, which reduced both of them to laughter.
“Great. Now there are two of you,” Brandt grumbled, then shoved off from his windowsill perch and strode over to pour more coffee. He threw it back in one go, then straightened up and was all business. “We need to get a plan together—tomorrow has to run like clockwork. Everyone get dressed and ready, and we’ll meet here in an hour?”
“It takes an hour for you to get dressed and ready?” Kerry teased.
“It does when Gabriel’s in the shower with me,” Brandt replied archly. “He’s very thorough.” He laughed and set down his empty coffee cup. “Are you coming, love?” His voice was suddenly warm and deep.
“I will be shortly,” Donnelly replied as he followed Brandt out of the room eagerly.
An hour later the foursome was gathered in the parlor, the remains of breakfast scattered across the long coffee table around which they sat.
“So what you’re proposing is a three-pronged attack?” Brandt asked once Sandler, Kerry, and Donnelly had all chimed in on their brainstorming.
“I think it gives us the best chance,” Donnelly replied. “We cover the doctor, the clinic, and the Hendrickses themselves. We only need one of those to be successful.”
“But it spreads us pretty thin, doesn’t it?” Brandt asked. “If something goes wrong for one of us, the others won’t be there to help.”
“Kerry and Sandler will be working together,” Donnelly said, “and I think you’d agree they’re pretty resourceful.” Kerry nodded her thanks at the compliment, while Sandler continued staring anxiously into the middle distance. “And you and I will be working alone, but it’s not like we’ve never done that, right?” Brandt conceded the point with a curt nod. “So I think this is probably the best use of the tools we have available, given the time pressure we’re under.”
Brandt sighed testily. “This is a shotgun plan, blasting everything we’ve got at once, hoping something hits. I’d much prefer a sniper attack—a surgical strike.” He stood and paced the length of the room a couple of times. “But we don’t have the luxury of time to pull something like that together.” He sat again, and looked from face to face around the table. “All right, let’s do this.”
A cheer went up, but as Kerry looked from face to face she saw all present seemed to be fully aware that what they were about to do would be difficult indeed.