The Target(126)
“How do you know him?”
“I know him from our country.”
“Why is he here?”
“Just take him the note, Min. Do it now. And he will give you something in return for me.”
Min opened the door, looked back once at Chung-Cha, and then hurried into the little office.
Chung-Cha pumped gas while she watched Min. She gave the man the note and he in turn gave her a piece of paper, along with some candy from the rack next to the register. He smiled and patted Min on the head.
When Min returned to the car, she handed Chung-Cha the note and held up the package of chocolates.
“Can I have these?”
“Just one. Save the rest for later.”
Chung-Cha slipped the note into her pocket.
“You’re not going to read what the note says?” asked Min as she popped the candy into her mouth.
“Later, not here.”
They drove back to the cottage.
While Min went off to play, Chung-Cha looked at the note. It was written in code, and not in Korean, just in case. They had used English instead.
She read through the contents twice to make sure she had missed nothing. Then she let out a small breath as she heard Min laugh. The TV was on and she must be watching her cartoons.
It must be good to laugh, thought Chung-Cha. It must be very good.
Chapter
68
IT LOOKS LIKE A BABY’S bib,” observed Reel.
“Or a bikini bottom,” replied Robie.
They were in a private jet descending into the airport on Nantucket. Looking at the island from this altitude had prompted their respective descriptions.
“Mars, Venus,” said Reel wryly.
“Guess so.”
Eleanor Cassion and her children were riding up front with their protection detail. Special motorcade cars were being ferried over. If the president had been coming, the logistics would have been far more daunting.
“Settled in 1641, about forty-eight square miles of land and about fifty-eight more of water. Fifty thousand people during the summer, about a fifth of that during the rest of the year,” said Reel. “They call the island the ‘little gray lady of the sea’ when the place is fog-bound, which it apparently is a good deal of the time. But on that island is some of the most expensive land in the country. Highest point is Folger Hill, about one hundred and nine feet.”
Robie stared at her. “Aren’t you just the fount of information.”
“Google makes everybody a genius.”
The jet touched down and came to a stop. Reel and Robie grabbed their bags and headed for the exit.
Claire Cassion made a point of stepping directly in front of Robie in the aisle. Her mother and brother were just ahead of her. The Secret Service were already outside the plane making sure everything was okay before the family exited into the waiting SUV.
Claire had on skinny jeans, heels that made her much taller, and a Yale sweatshirt. She glanced back at Robie. “Enjoy the flight?”
“I enjoy every flight where the plane lands on its wheels.”
She laughed. “That’s really funny. Handsome and a sense of humor, pretty impressive.”
Reel turned her head so Claire would not see her rolling her eyes. But she did poke Robie hard in the back and whispered, “God, it must be great to be so popular with children.”
As they walked down the jet steps Claire tripped in her heels, but Robie caught her. She squeezed his arm, “Thanks, Mr. Robie.”
“Just make it Will.”
She flashed a toothy smile. “Okay, and you can make it Claire.”
Robie was expecting another poke from Reel, but it didn’t come. He glanced over and saw Tommy staring, not at him, but at Reel, while Eleanor was watching her daughter with a look of resigned exasperation.
As they stepped onto the tarmac they saw the three-SUV motorcade waiting. Robie said to Reel, “I think you have your own fan club.” His gaze led Reel’s over to Tommy as the boy climbed into the middle SUV. Tommy was still staring at her.
“Great,” said Reel wearily. “Just great.”
They rode in the rear vehicle behind the SUV carrying the Cassions. Two Secret Service agents rode with them.
One of them said, “Welcome aboard. Understand you guys are with our intelligence community.”
“State Department,” said Reel, hiding her smile.
“Yeah,” said the agent, grinning.
“Why Nantucket?” said Robie.
The agent shrugged. “First Lady went to school in Boston. Apparently she spent a lot of time here as a kid. Good memories.”
“And must be nice to get away from D.C.”
“Always nice to get away from that place,” agreed the agent. He added, “You two being here, anything we need to know? Threats?”