The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (comprehension books .TXT) 📗

to share what we have.” The man extended his hand. “I’m Theodore Roosevelt.”

“Oh, the New York reformer. I’ve heard of you.” JC clasped the hand of the future president. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, sir.”

21

Mallory Plantation, VA—Elliott

Elliott Fraser sat in Braham McCabe’s library, reading the Thoroughbred Daily News on his iPad while enjoying his second cup of morning coffee. No one knew where he was, and he wanted to keep it that way, at least for an hour. Unless you were alone in a rowboat on the James River, finding a quiet place while visiting Mallory Plantation was almost impossible. But he’d found one and relished his privacy.

Elliott and Meredith flew into Richmond Thursday night with David, Kenzie, their daughters, JL, Kevin, and their bunch. Elliott hadn’t taken an official count, but except for the kids away at school, and Austin and James Cullen, most of the family was on the premises.

After having his calls go unanswered for three weeks, Elliott had stopped calling James Cullen until this morning. Now his son had turned his damn phone off, and calls went straight to voice mail. Over the past few years, James Cullen had become more distant, and while his son liked to blame it on family pressures, Elliott knew they weren’t the cause.

Sixteen months ago, Elliott became so alarmed that he hired a private military and homeland security agency to investigate his son. What Northbridge Worldwide discovered ripped through Elliott, and he still hadn’t recovered.

James Cullen was a Paramilitary Operations Officer for the CIA.

The news was the only thing he’d ever hidden from Meredith, and he still lacked the courage to tell her. Not only had he not told Meredith, but he hadn’t told Remy or even Tavis. Why? Because Elliott approved of his son’s decision. He didn’t like it, but James Cullen had his dad’s seal of approval.

While neither Northbridge nor David had discovered what James Cullen was doing for the CIA, Elliott sensed in his blood and bones that his son’s mission, the underpinning of every assignment, was to track down and destroy the Illuminati before the clandestine organization destroyed the MacKlenna Clan.

Whenever James Cullen went AWOL like he was now, Elliott tried to find a project that would keep him distracted until his son returned. This time he’d just identified two yearlings he wanted to buy at the Fasig-Tipton July Sale.

A quick knock on the door preceded its opening, and Penny Malone-O’Grady stuck her head around the partially open door. “Hey. Something’s come up. Do you have a minute?”

Elliott turned off the iPad and placed it on the end table as he stood to welcome his daughter-in-law into his sanctuary. “Come in, lass. I always have time for ye.” Penny wasn’t legally his daughter-in-law, but he had unofficially adopted all the women who joined the family through marriage.

Eight months pregnant with twins, she lumbered across the room and eased down onto the sofa. The babies had to be making her life miserable. Although she never complained, her perpetually pinched face made her discomfort obvious.

“We have a situation,” she said, calmly adjusting throw pillows to support her back.

Alarm bells went off in Elliott’s head as he reclaimed his seat beside her, wondering if Charlotte had already gone to the hospital for morning rounds. “Is it the babies? Where’s Rick?”

“It’s not the babies, and Rick took Jean to the golf course.”

Relieved, Elliott crossed his legs. “The wee lad’s game is better than Tiger Woods’s was at that age. At three, Tiger shot a forty-eight over nine holes at the Navy course in California. Jean just shot a forty-seven.”

“I realize that’s impressive, but Jean isn’t a miniature adult. Between the music lessons, horseback riding lessons, and golf, he doesn’t have much time to be a kid.”

“Ask Kevin what James Cullen was like at three.”

“Rick must be talking to Kevin and JL then. Yesterday Rick told him he was going to teach Jean how to wrap his taste buds around the four primary wine descriptors so he could describe the taste of wine to Granny Mere.”

“Surely he didn’t give the lad alcohol?”

“Hell, no. At least, I don’t think he did. He gave Jean glasses of water with different flavors stirred in, so they tasted fruity, earthy, spicy, smoky, and flowery. It cracked me up. Jean insisted on dressing in khakis and a MacCorp shirt and sitting at the bar with a wine glass for his ‘instructions.’ He’d taste the water, smack his lips, and said ‘smoky’ after every sip.”

“If the lad keeps that up, he’ll soon know more than Meredith.” Elliott took a sip of coffee, then said, “I don’t think ye’re here for parenting lessons, so what’s on yer mind that ye had to search me out?”

“It wasn’t much of a search, boss. I asked Alicyn McBain where you were.”

“She didn’t see me come in here. How’d she know?”

“To be precise, she said, ‘Grandpa Elliott likes to read the TDN with his morning coffee, and since it’s the only quiet place around here today—’ That’s when her twin sister Rebecca butted in and said, ‘He’s in the cleanroom or the library.’ Then Laurie Wallis said, ‘Try the library first. He likes the morning sun.’ Then she went into a long explanation about why sailors don’t like red skies in the morning.”

Elliott smiled. “Smart kids. But what’d she say about red skies?”

“That a low-pressure storm system is moving east, so rain is on its way.”

“Laurie Wallis has spent a lot of time on the river with Churchill, and whenever he’s at the helm of any boat, he’s right back in the Royal Navy. Tavis is encouraging him to apply to the Naval Academy.”

“Do you think he will?”

“He’s worked with private tutors for the past three years, both here and in Italy, so he’s not far behind Robbie and Henry. I’m sure everywhere he applies, he’ll get accepted. He’s a talented artist, a great athlete, speaks three languages, and is sharp as a tack. But