its mooring.
“Whose plane is that?” Katie asked in astonishment.
“That’s Thorn’s. He flies it in from one of his surrounding properties in Montana or Idaho. He’s here for opening day tomorrow morning. He hasn’t missed one since…” Reece paused. “Since his wife died.”
They pulled up in front of the house and Katie let Reece open the door for her. She was pleasantly surprised when he took her arm in his as they walked toward the home’s sprawling front porch, the simple gesture helping put her at ease.
Jonathan and Caroline greeted the couple with genuine joy, both hugging her before she could get through the door. True to his reputation, Jonathan held a green bottle of Namibian Windhoek Lager in his paw and handed another to Reece as he entered the foyer.
A man who reminded her a bit of an older Indiana Jones rose from a leather chair by the fireplace and extended his hand, “Ms. Buranek, Tim Thornton. I am very pleased to meet you.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Senator.”
“Please, call me Thorn. I much prefer that. ‘Senator’ conjures up too many memories of my time in the swamp,” he said, referring to Washington’s unofficial moniker. “And, thank you for your series of articles and the book on the Benghazi mess,” he continued, shaking his head. “Those boys deserved better. Politicians in and out of uniform left them to die. But, enough unpleasantness. Let’s get you a drink.”
“What can I offer you, Katie?” Caroline Hastings asked.
“What are you having, Mrs. Hastings?”
“Please call me Caroline. I’m having champagne.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Jonathan appeared with a crystal flute of France’s finest and handed it to their guest.
“We have one other surprise for you both,” he said. “Liz, would you be a dear and join us?”
Reece’s eyebrows arched in amazement as all five feet, four inches of Elizabeth Riley appeared from a back guest room. The two had first met in Iraq during the height of the insurgency. Riley’s OH-58 Kiowa had been shot down in Najaf, her capture and torture seemingly inevitable. A few blocks away Reece’s sniper team was set up in an overwatch position of a heavily IED’d stretch of road. Hearing the situation on the radio, Reece defied orders and launched a hastily organized rescue, putting the aviator deeply in his debt. She recovered from her injuries but was medically retired from the army. She became like a sister to Reece and his late wife, Lauren, and a close aunt to their daughter Lucy. Riley was unflinchingly loyal to her friends and, when Reece needed help avenging the deaths of Lauren and Lucy, she was there on wings.
“Liz, what are you doing here?” Reece asked after a strong embrace.
“I work for Thorn now,” she replied in her thick southern accent. “He has more planes than he can keep track of.”
“Liz, you remember Katie.”
“Of course, we’ve kept in touch. It’s not every day you spirit a kidnapped reporter off Fishers Island in a Pilatus in the middle of the night.”
The two women embraced like old friends.
“Come out and have a seat. Caroline has everything set up out back,” Jonathan said, leading his guests through the home and onto the back deck via the open French doors. A long table flanked with wicker chairs had been set up on the back lawn overlooking the lake. The table was covered with a flawless white starched tablecloth of fine linen, and place settings of the family’s best English silver and bone china were located at each seat. Brightly colored fresh flowers, now including the ones that Katie had brought, overflowed from a vase at the table’s center.
Jonathan had just pulled out a chair for Katie when Raife and Annika came strolling across the lawn.
“Katie, I’d like you to meet my friends, Raife and Annika Hastings.”
She rose, shaking hands with Raife. “So nice to meet both of you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Annika hugged her warmly.
“We’re just glad that you are real, Katie. I was beginning to think that you were a figment of Reece’s imagination,” Raife said with a grin.
“We promise not to scare you off, Katie,” Annika added, elbowing her husband in the ribs.
“Please, everyone, sit,” Caroline said, before taking her seat at the far end of the rectangular table from Jonathan.
Both younger couples sat beside one another, arranged so the women could chat at one end of the table while the men gathered at the other.
Jonathan and Caroline brought the meal out in courses, each with an appropriate wine pairing. Raife drank