Ms. Reilly—given the circumstances, we fully understand if you choose to withdraw from the speaker lineup.”
Not in her plans—unless the situation deteriorated further.
“Let’s play it by ear for now.”
She sat again, pulled out her cell, and turned it back on as the corner of the tent emptied—except for the four officers forming a perimeter around her.
Brent answered on the first ring—and his greeting did nothing to reassure her.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. We just had a briefing from a lieutenant—such as it was. He just alluded to an increased threat level and asked the organizers to delay the program. I also have armed, uniformed officers stationed in close proximity. What’s going on?”
“Are you sitting down?”
“Yes.”
“We’re beginning to think Olivia Macie is the second person who had you in their sights.”
Eve’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Repeat that.”
“You heard me correctly. Your neighbor appears to be a strong person of interest.”
She stared at the shadows of the officers on the other side of the tent flaps as Brent filled her in on what they’d found in her neighbor’s basement.
But the connection wasn’t computing.
Olivia . . . Antifa?
Bizarre.
She waited to speak until he finished. “I’m reeling.”
“So are we. While we were in her office, we found a framed photo of a young man that appears to be from the midsixties, early seventies. It was taken at a Vietnam War protest. Did she by chance ever mention anyone from her past who had been important to her?”
“No. She never mentioned anyone, period. I don’t think she had a family, other than her husband—and he died twenty years ago.”
“That’s what I figured, in view of what you told the responding officer this morning. We’re waiting for word that the warrant’s a go to dig in here. Has your speech been delayed?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Stick close to your armed guards until we know more—unless you’re willing to cancel the speech?”
“I’d rather not unless you uncover a tangible threat. It’s the keynote address. Besides, backing down to intimidation tactics goes against my grain. These groups spout free speech, yet they do their best to shut down voices that don’t agree with them. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I think their tactics fall under the any-means-to-an-end philosophy—whether those means are logical or not. Keep your phone on. As soon as I know more, I’ll give you a call.”
“Thanks.”
Several seconds of silence ticked by—but Brent made no attempt to sever the connection.
Curious.
Eve waited him out.
“Listen . . . as soon as this situation is resolved, we have to talk.”
Not what she’d expected—and it was impossible to tell from his tone whether his comment was good news or bad.
“About us?”
“Yes.” A voice spoke in the background on Brent’s end. “I have to go. We have tons of work to do in a very short time. Be careful, and I’ll call you soon.”
The temptation to ask a few follow-up questions was strong—but the man was super busy. She’d have to wait.
“No worries. I’m fine.” She managed to maintain an upbeat inflection. “Go do your job.”
As the line went dead, however—and she canvassed the four police officers assigned to keep her safe—a new spate of nerves kicked in. They were guarding her as a result of evidence the police had found in Olivia’s basement.
But why would such a sweet woman be involved with an anarchist group like Antifa? And how could someone who’d been so nice and thoughtful in person be masterminding a plot against the neighbor she’d welcomed with open arms?
Was the image Olivia presented to the world nothing more than a façade? A cover for nefarious activities?
The whole notion was surreal.
Yet it must have serious credence if the police were on full alert and a security detail had been assigned to her.
Eve drew in a lungful of air. Slowly let it out. Sitting around waiting for news wasn’t going to calm her. Keeping busy would.
But doing what?
Jiggling her foot, she watched the board members circulate through the picnickers outside the tent as they passed the word about the security alert. Expressions ranged from startled to solemn to nervous.
Understandable.
It was one thing to read about Antifa and activist gatherings on the news. It was another thing entirely to be in the midst of one.
She pulled out her cell and opened her browser. Brent and his colleagues would have access to much more detailed intel on Olivia than she could pull up by surfing the net—but a search would keep her occupied.
And while she was browsing, it wouldn’t hurt to say a few prayers that Brent’s team would get