Page 30 of Safeguarding the Witness

Before he could reply, his grandpa joined them. Oliver placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Though he smiled, his words held the weight of unquestioned authority. Nobody defied the patriarch of the Cameron family.

“Sorry, Spence, but I have to ask you to leave,” Oliver said as he hooked Mollie’s arm through his. “You can wait in the hallway. I’ll be done with Mollie and the others in less than half an hour.”

Spence didn’t argue or complain. Breaking eye contact with her, he obediently strode toward the closed door of the dining room. She glared at his back and yanked her arm away from Oliver’s grasp. Who did these guys think they were? When she was younger, she would have gone along with what they said, but Mollie wasn’t that docile girl anymore. She’d grown into a woman who could live under threat and survive. Something bad had happened, and she wouldn’t be able to sit still until she knew what was going on.

She dashed after Spence. Was it something about her twin? Or WITSEC? Or her father? She stepped in front of him, blocking the door. In a low, intense voice, she demanded an answer. “Is it my father? Has something happened to him?”

“Not that, Mollie. Your dad hasn’t called.”

Dad’s rules were simple: He contacted them. Not the other way around. Mollie wasn’t in the mood to play games or exchange secret passwords right now. “Tell me the new information. Who did you talk to?”

“Agent Jamison.”

Hadn’t they just decided not to contact him? Apparently, Spence changed his mind without consulting her. “What did he tell you?”

“The local police have already reviewed the surveillance footage from the airport.”

His grandpa interrupted. “Spence, I need to have this meeting. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” he acquiesced. “May I ask a question?”

“Only one,” Oliver said.

“Does this meeting of the three primary beneficiaries satisfy the requirements of Irma Winchell’s will?”

The older man raised his thick eyebrows and pursed his lips. Then he gave a quick nod, appearing somewhat pleased that his grandson had made a cogent legal point. Oliver cleared his throat. “I hadn’t considered that particular issue, but I’d have to say yes. This meeting covers the stipulation that Mollie must be physically present when she learns of her inheritance.”

“To be clear,” Spence pressed, “she is free to go after this meeting? She will still receive her bequest in full?”

“Indeed, she will.”

With an air of finality, Spence said, “It might be necessary for her to make an immediate departure from Cloverdell.”

She stood between the two generations of Cameron men who stared at each other in a test of wills. They seemed to have forgotten she was there. She spoke up. “Whether I stay or go is my decision, gentlemen.”

“Of course,” Grandpa said.

“What do you want to do?” Spence asked.

“First, I want to hear what Oliver has to say.”

Though eager to hear Spence’s news, she needed to start calling the shots, to take control of her life. She pivoted and marched back to the dining room table, where she took her place opposite Bethany, Erin and Amy. The empty chair beside her should have been occupied by Madison. Maybe someday it would be. Maybe today after her meeting at the clubhouse.

The last twenty-four hours had changed everything. Initially, she hadn’t wanted to come to Oregon with Spence, but now she truly wanted to stay. She realized how very much she’d missed the moist air and lush greenery of the place she called home. Being on the run, looking over her shoulder and expecting an ambush—that was no way to live.

As she gazed across the table at Bethany and Erin, her fears lifted. Like Bethany said: Four-Leaf Clovers stood for faith, hope, love and luck. Together, they could withstand any storm. “I’ve missed you two so much.”

“What about me?” Amy piped up.

“Most of all, I missed you.”

Bethany frowned, causing parallel creases between her perfectly shaped black eyebrows. “Perhaps it’s better to tell Amy the truth. Stick to facts.”

“Nope.” Mollie shook her head. “We have our whole lives to ponder the facts. A bit of fantasy now and then can’t hurt.”

“You used to be more serious,” Bethany said.

“Maybe I’m channeling Madison.”