+18 - FEATURED - #1 Thriller
A unique city. A unique police team led by a unique woman. And an uptight fed set on a collision course.
Declan Brockner is a sullen FBI agent. Once an outstanding profiler, now fallen from grace and office, his...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
**picture: Commonwealth Avenue Mall, Boston
Connor came down the stairs, smoothing his suit coat with both hands, and noticed the soft sound of fingers typing from the family room.
"Mom?" he called.
"Coming!"
The boy rolled his eyes. Ten to one his mother was still working. But before he needed to go grab her, she joined him. Right in time to catch him sliding a finger inside the buttoned collar of his shirt and pat his hand as if he were a child. Gillian went on to the front door with a soft murmur from her long black dress. She put on the short black jacket that completed the outfit and her coat, handing Connor his.
She opened the front door and paused, looking up with a surprised smile: a light snow was falling. Connor caught up with her at the porch and they took a moment to admire the small flakes spiraling softly down on them.
The hotel was decorated for Christmas from sidewalk to rooftop, and they'd set up a red tarp awning from the curb to the gates, to protect the guests from the snow. A swarm of young men in red jackets welcomed the distinguished guests, escorting them up to the awning with umbrellas and taking their cars to the parking. Reporters, photographers, cameras from all the local media outlets flanked the awning to capture the arrival of Boston's elite.
Andrea gasped when Brock slowed down behind a limo in the line to the gates. "Oh, my, Dad," she muttered, and faced him with sudden stage fright. "What am I supposed to do?"
Brock smiled, pressing her hand. "Just breathe and walk, we'll get inside in no time."
"Okay," the girl mumbled, her eyes on the elegant couples strolling to the gates one after the other, nodding and smiling to the cameras.
The limo drove away and Brock moved his car and unlocked the doors. "Wait for me or them to open your door," he said, as an assistant hurried around the car with an umbrella for him.
He circled the car in his elegant black coat, getting to Andrea's door right when another young man helped her out of the car. Beneath her snow-white coat, she wore a long white dress, classic and elegant, with a light shawl around her shoulders. Her long hair was curled and half wrapped in a loose bun, and she had only a slight touch of makeup. Brock had seriously considered bringing his Glock along to keep pervs away, because she looked gorgeous, as if shining with her own pure glow.
He flashed a reassuring smile at her and put her hand on his arm, then he led her to the awning, where the assistants stepped back with their umbrellas and allowed them to go on.
The couples ahead of them were in no hurry to reach the gates, pleased and willing to be exposed to the cameras, and Andrea stuck instinctively to Brock's side as they made their way slowly between the lines of flashes.
Once inside, he took her to the master of ceremonies at the entrance of one of the ballrooms. The man checked his list and nodded at yet another assistant, murmuring something to him. The other man waved for them to follow him.
The large ballroom was decorated with a Christmas motif, including red candles on every decked round table, and many people were already sitting at them, or moving around. There was a small stage at the furthest wall, with a solitary microphone, kept still in the shadows.
Brock was surprised when they were guided to a table only two lines away from the stage, since he expected a discreet seat on the last row. They were almost there when Russell came circling tables and small groups of people, a glass of champagne in his hand, wearing an impeccable tuxedo and a bright grin.
"Brock, you made it!" He patted Brock's arm and turned to Andrea. "And you are young Miss Brockner, I assume," he said, stretching his hand out to her.
"Yes. Andrea, he's Agent Coleman, my current partner."
Andrea shook Russell's hand. She liked this nice smiling man, dropping everything to come greet her dad.
Russell lowered his voice to say, "I'd kiss your hand, but I'm still too fond of my teeth." He winked, keeping his dark eyes on her. "I don't dare to look. He's scowling at me, right?"
Andrea glanced at Brock, saw his disapproving scowl and nodded with a soft giggle.
"I knew it. Now he's gonna drop me in a ditch on our next case." Russell looked up at Brock, always smiling. "Come, let's get you guys something to drink," he said, and quickly added, "There are some fancy alcohol-free cocktails for young beautiful ladies."
