Nickel City Storm Warning (Gideon Rimes Book 3) by Gary Ross (100 best novels of all time txt) 📗

and wearing a denim skirt, red top, and hoop earrings. “G told me about you both. If she’s Vonnie, you must be Cecile.”

“Yes, ma’am. Call me Cissy.”

Drea gazed at each Brewster sister for a moment. “Thank you for doing this.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Cissy said, and Yvonne added, “Happy to help.”

“Ramos, the luggage goes in the bedroom to the right,” I said.

As Cissy’s eyes followed him, Ramos carried the two lavender suitcases into Drea’s room. Sam followed with the carry-on. Bishop, Pete, and I stepped down into the living room. I waited for Ramos and Sam to return before making introductions all around. When the handshaking stopped and greetings faded, I positioned myself in the center of the living room and cleared my throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Thank you all for being part of this team,” I said. “If we’re going to be effective, we need to be clear on the role each of us will play and to understand the seriousness of what we’re doing.” I looked at each one in turn, my gaze lingering longest on Ramos and Cissy. Had there been a spark of something when their eyes met? I shoved the thought aside and gestured toward Sam. “Mr. Wingard here is paying us to protect his cousin, so round-the-clock safety is our primary objective. Period. In case you haven’t read her book, you need to know the people she names as her husband’s killers have never been caught. Police have no idea where Liberty Storm is hiding, especially their leader, one Wally Ray Tucker. He’s a person of interest wanted for questioning in at least three murders. Five-ten, pale skin, spiky blond hair, light brown eyes. He may have fled the country, like Robert Rundo. Unlike Rundo, Tucker may never again show his face here. But I believe in being sure. If he thinks getting caught or killed is inevitable, a diversity conference is the perfect event to make himself a martyr, one with more cachet than a guy who shoots up Walmart. He might try sacrificing himself in a run at our client or he might try something with a higher body count.”

The room was quiet a moment. Then Bishop raised her hand. “Cops know all this?”

“They do. The Canalside substation’s providing extra security for traffic control and street crime. But since nobody’s made a specific threat, they can’t pull out the stops. Neither can the FBI.” I nodded to Yvonne, who stood and gave each person a sheet of paper. “Hard copies of Tucker’s mugshots, our contact list, and a schedule of Ms. Wingard’s activities. The only numbers we’re missing are those of Ms. Bishop and Mr. Ramos. Once we have them, Yvonne will send all this to your phones too.”

Bishop waited until Yvonne handed a pen to everyone who needed one and then recited her number. Ramos followed suit. Yvonne added their numbers to her own cell phone and sent a group text she had already written. The iPhone in my front right pocket buzzed. I pulled it out and looked at it as everyone else did the same. Wingard group contacts, it said. Once she knew everyone got the message, Yvonne sent the Tucker mugshots, followed by a schedule for today through Sunday. Tonight there was a dinner with conference organizers in James Torrance’s penthouse. Tomorrow Drea would appear live on Morning in Buffalo and give a Buffalo News interview in the afternoon. That evening she would have a light dinner at PAUSA Art House in Allentown, followed by a reading and book signing. Wednesday would begin with a Central Library appearance and continue in the afternoon with a second signing at Talking Leaves bookstore. Wednesday evening the conference would begin with a reception and end with Drea’s keynote at an awards brunch Saturday. After an afternoon trip to Niagara Falls and the Underground Railroad Museum in nearby Lewiston, she would speak at the university Saturday night, where we would get additional help from campus police. She would fly home Sunday evening after spending the day with Sam.

I pocketed my phone. “For the next week, this suite will be our nerve center. From eight each morning till seven at night, Yvonne and Cissy will cover the monitors and start recording anything suspicious. Bishop and Ramos, get here by eight-thirty. You’ll be free to leave each evening with Yvonne and Cissy once Drea, Pete, and I are back. Pete will take the second bedroom. I’ll take the pull-out. Tomorrow and Wednesday will run later because of PAUSA Art House and the conference reception. Tonight Drea and I are having dinner in the owner’s penthouse so you can all take off early. Pete will watch the monitors.”

Bishop put up her hand again, and I nodded toward her. “I see a lot of rooms on those monitors,” she said. “What happens when you’re asleep?”

“Good question.” My already favorable opinion of Bishop climbed another rung. “Pete and I will take turns monitoring things till midnight. Then we’ll set the auto-record to kick in anytime motion sensors make a camera move. In the morning we’ll review any recordings in fast forward and slow things down when necessary. Hotel security and I will go to any area that looks like it might have been compromised. Bishop and Ramos, before the end of the day I’ll make sure you meet our security liaison, Mark Donatello.”

“Like the Ninja Turtle,” Ramos said, which made Pete bite his lip and Cissy grin.

Bishop rolled her eyes. “What if somebody tries to get in here at night?”

“Every night I’ll put a Brink’s bar with a portable alarm under the doorknob. Nobody will get inside without waking me.” I decided not to say my gun would be under my pillow, but thinking of it reminded me of another detail I needed to share. “By the way, there will be no housekeeping during our stay. No room service unless Pete, Yvonne, or I go get it. The fewer people we let inside, the safer our client