The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

plan for the return trip, Tavis went to the rental car agency to pick up the car David reserved. After David finished, he took the wheel and drove them to James Cullen’s house on 31st Street in Georgetown’s East Village.

Elliott had been to James Cullen’s housewarming, a half-dozen fundraisers, and a few small dinner parties, but nothing in the past twelve months. When he did see his son, it was usually at Mallory Plantation for a short overnight visit.

David slowly pulled up in front of the house and parked at the curb. “How do ye want to handle this? Except for a barking dog and his owner shushing him, it’s quiet around here.”

Elliott had given it quite a bit of thought. He didn’t want to hurt Paul, but if he sensed Paul wasn’t forthcoming, he would give David the nod. “If he resists, let’s go in hard and let him know we’re not screwing around. I’ll knock on the front door. Tavis, ye take the rear and enter through the sunroom, and David, ye go to the guesthouse. There’s probably an emergency exit, but I doubt Paul will try to evade us. At least not initially.”

“How much force?” Tavis asked.

Elliott looked back over his shoulder at Tavis sitting in the back seat. “Don’t maim him.”

“He’s a nice guy. He won’t resist,” Tavis said with a shrug.

Before they stormed the house, Elliott needed to bring Tavis into the circle and let him know Paul’s and James Cullen’s real occupations. Tavis should be fully informed before he walked into a situation that could turn hostile.

“Let’s step outside. It hurts my neck to keep looking back at ye.”

The three men stood on the sidewalk, facing the house. “Paul might be nice, Tavis, but he’s also deadly,” David said.

“He must be one hell of an actor, then. He’s muscular but not threatening—unless I play chess with him.”

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s a Cyber Operations Officer for the CIA,” David said.

Tavis yanked off his MacKlenna Farm ball cap and slapped it against his thigh. “What the fuck! Are you shitting me?” A frown shifted to astonishment. “Hell, I never saw that coming.”

Elliott clapped him on the shoulder. “I was just as shocked as ye are.”

“Is JC in the Agency, too?”

“Aye. He’s a Paramilitary Operations Officer.”

Tavis flipped the cap back on top of his head. “I’ve been trained by the best. I shouldn’t have missed that. How’d you figure it out?”

Elliott didn’t flinch, even though he knew the answer would piss Tavis off. The lad was a borderline hothead. He’d try to take the news stoically, but he’d still be pissed as hell. “I hired yer old boss.”

Tavis’s blue eyes turned steely now, and they bored into Elliott’s. It was the first time since the night of the museum heist in Gothenburg that Elliott had seen such an intense look.

“Why didn’t you give me the assignment?” Tavis asked. “Now Northbridge believes you don’t trust me.”

“I explained I couldn’t handle it in-house and that until I got answers, I didn’t want anyone in the family to know what was going on. If it turned out differently, I didn’t want it to color yer opinion of James Cullen.”

“Goddamn it, Elliott!” He yanked his cap off and smacked it against his thigh again. “You’re the Keeper of the Stones, and he’s your son. One day either JC or Kevin will demand the Council’s allegiance, and I’ll give it. I’m here to protect you and the brooches. Don’t do that to me again!” He growled the last part between his teeth, an angry flush flooding his face.

Elliott had miscalculated, and that rarely happened. But he couldn’t leave Tavis with the impression that Elliott would advise him in the future under similar circumstances. “I won’t make ye a promise I can’t keep. Ye have to trust me, and if ye can’t, then walk away.”

“Of course I trust you, but I have a job to do, just like my ancestors going back centuries. My job is to protect the brooches and the Keeper. But let me be clear. If it comes to falling on my sword for you or the brooches, I’ll choose the brooches every time.”

“That’s exactly where yer priorities should be,” Elliott said.

The flush faded. “Good. That’s settled.” Travis refocused, staring at the house. “Do you have a key, or are we breaking in?”

“I don’t have a key or code to turn off the alarm,” Elliott said. “I assume David does.”

“Give me two minutes.” David reached back in the car for his laptop, worked his magic, and within his two-minute window, he announced, “It’s disarmed. If either James Cullen or Paul is in there, they’ll get a signal that the system is disarmed and will be carrying, so be careful. We don’t want anyone shot.”

They separated, moving quickly in different directions like a fully-trained tactical unit. Elliott’s mind churned with a variety of next steps, but each one depended on Paul’s reaction.

He approached the front door with the breezy air tingling against his skin. He was coming up on eighty years old, yet he moved with the agility and mental acuity of a man half his age. He attributed his health to his diet and exercise regimen, but he knew it was much more than that. The power of the stones had rejuvenated him.

Meredith often accused him of swimming in the Fountain of Youth. That hadn’t happened, but like Brad Pitt in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, he was aging in reverse. Would he live long enough to collect all the stones—even Erik’s?

Time would tell.

Elliott stood on the porch, glancing around for the camera he knew was there, but it was well hidden. James Cullen and Paul would be alerted that someone was on the porch, but that didn’t matter now. He waited thirty seconds, enough time for someone to welcome him.

When no one came, Elliott opened the heavy oak door, entered the foyer, and walked toward the back of the house. Tavis went through the great room, and a