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“We are not at liberty to discuss—”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Peterson. You were at the hospital today. I do not want to go to his family and say we got their only son killed because he was mistaken for a Summerland boy. Not to mention that I would”—I waved my hand in the air, trying to think how to say it—“it would leave this big hole in my life to lose Jason. So we aren’t going to lose him, are we?” I glared at all three of them.

“We are doing our best,” Peterson said.

“What has changed in just the last few hours?”

“I cannot share the information, you don’t have clearance.”

“How much danger is Jason in?” I asked.

“You know it’s not him.”

“But he could be hurt by accident,” I said.

Peterson made an exasperated sound low in his throat. “Yes, he looks enough like both the boys to be in danger.”

“In danger of death, or kidnapping, or what?” I asked.

This time they exchanged a flurry of looks, including Peterson. Shadwell said, “She isn’t cleared for this.”

“I will have to clear it with my superiors, but I’ll try to get permission to fill you in on some of it,” Peterson said. “Go to the party, enjoy yourselves, stay longer than thirty minutes; maybe by the time the party is over I can tell you more.”

“They’ll never go for that,” Shadwell said.

“Until they give you my job, Shadwell, I will run this operation the way I see fit. Is that clear?”

“Very, sir,” Shadwell said, and managed that great neutral military voice, where you can say Yes, sir all day long while inside you’re thinking You motherfucker.

“Then do your job. Ralston will be back to check on things later.”

“Ralston, sir?” Shadwell said.

Peterson nodded. “Yes, Ralston.”

“Why is Chuck in charge of the party?” I asked.

“Ask the governor,” Peterson said. He leaned back and opened the door for me. He was going to see me safely inside the room before he left, apparently. I didn’t argue, just let Rowe go into the room first, then me, then Shadwell. Shouldn’t they have done that for Jason? Oh, wait, he’d been safe behind the wall of beautiful blond women. Now that’s body armor.

33

THE ROOM WAS almost identical to ours except for the décor. It was all white and golden-tan, much cleaner lines, less fuss than our room. It was much airier and through the windows which were still open to the night I saw a balcony railing. The two groups of sofas and chairs were empty. There were presents on the glass dining table still in their sparkling wrappers. Apparently it was a combination bachelorette party and bridal shower. Either that or they’d changed the rules for bachelorette parties and now you got presents.

Where were Jason and the girls? Then I heard a giggle. It came from around the corner where, if it had been our room, the bedroom lay. Of course, it did.

Shad stopped me with a hand motion. I hadn’t even realized I’d made a movement forward. He called out, “Price, Sanchez?”

A man came around the corner. He was the first non-WASP that I’d seen in this town. Well, unless you counted Jason’s dad and his sisters. They, at least, weren’t blond. But Sanchez was nicely dark; other than skin tone he looked like all the other guards. They all had this stamped-out-of-the-same-mill feel to them. Rowe was the closest to his own person, but everyone else smelled of a system that trained large groups of men to fight other large groups of men. They came out of the military straight into another kind of unit, which had not helped them lose their cohesiveness.

He talked as he moved in front of the minibar to stand beside us. “They wanted to show the man the wedding dresses,” Sanchez said.

I looked at Shad. “May I?”

He nodded.

I stepped forward and offered a hand to Sanchez. He looked a little startled, but he gave me a good handshake. He had small hands for his size, or at least for the shoulders that were straining his suit. It looked like he’d hit the gym a lot recently, and hadn’t bought the next size up suit. It made his gun show very stark at his hip under the jacket.

Rowe said, “Sanchez, you