WILLOW
SILVERWARE CLATTERED on the table as Deacon cut into a thick, juicy steak. Who ate steak at a 1 p.m. informal lunch meeting with another congressman? The more I learned about Deacon Dick, the more questions I had.
My nerves flared as Congressman Chalmers laughed at something Deacon said. The two men at the table weren't what had me flustered, but something else. Being a security guard meant listening to your gut and woman's intuition.
I'd spent the last half an hour experiencing one big ass tummy twist. Hunger hadn't caused my body to revolt, but worry had. When my gut said pay attention, I paid attention. No ifs, ands, or buts. The last thirty minutes I'd been on high alert, surveying the surroundings and trying to figure out what had me on edge.