Chapter 33
Kate
A few days later, Kate and her grandmother drove up to the Holbrook estate. Grant waited in the foyer for them. Margaret wanted to take him to the clubhouse.
“The food is terrible,” she said as Grant helped her into the car, “with some of the worst service you can imagine.”
Kate tried to ignore her grandmother as she chattered on. In the time they’d spent together, Margaret and Grant had turned into coconspirators on the state of things in New Cardiff Township.
“No!” Grant said in mock shock to whatever Kate’s grandmother was complaining about. “Worse than the people at the Hilton?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “But it’s where people go, and you have to meet the Van der Ryes. They only lunch at the club. She meets him there after a round of golf. He’s a terrible player, but he’s so old that he can barely stand up straight, so I suppose you have to give him props for that.”
Kate tried to stifle a smile as she watched them. Grant looked at her softly. She quickly wiped the smile off her face, and he looked taken aback.
She looked at the trees in bloom on the way to the clubhouse. She didn’t really like going there, but for all her grandmother complained, she frequently took a meal, sometimes two with drinks in between, at the club with her friends. The day was beautiful, and the medians were awash in colorful flowers, but Kate wished it were cold and raining to match how she felt on the inside.
The clubhouse was on a hundred-acre property with golfing, horseback riding, swimming, and tennis. The neoclassical building rose on a small hill as the driver brought the car around. Golf carts zipped on the paths next to them, and women in cute tennis outfits walked up to the clubhouse for lunch.
“This is a really nice property,” Grant said as he helped her grandmother out of the car.
“Yes, it is lovely,” Margaret said. “This building is on the National Registry. This is one of the oldest social clubs in the country. They make you dress for dinner, but lunch is more casual. There’s a main dining room and a bar. I hope we are seated at a good table.”
They went inside the immaculate front hall and headed toward the dining room, which had huge windows overlooking the golf course. Grant didn’t want to sit in the middle of the room, and Kate’s grandmother’s normal table was too close to the window for Grant, so they had to sit in the corner. Kate cringed, expecting her grandmother to fuss and complain. But she just patted Grant on the forearm and smiled. Unbelievable.
“I’m glad to see you’ve finally decided that you like him,” Kate remarked.
Her grandmother looked offended.
“I’ve always liked Grant. How dare you!”
Kate pursed her lips in annoyance.
“In fact, I think you two should maybe try dating. I’d like a nice, handsome, strong grandson in the family.”
Grant gave Kate a sultry look. The waiter came over and started listing off the specials, which saved Kate from a response.
“We have an omelet with heritage cream cheese and wild-caught salmon with fresh dill from the garden, topped with Belgian caviar—”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Kate screamed as three masked men shot their way into the room, automatic rifles in their hands. One man pumped several shots into the elaborate ceiling. The lights sparked, and plaster and crystals rained down on the diners. Kate’s ears rang, and she heard muted screaming as she tried to pull her grandmother under the table. As she watched in horror, one of the attackers jumped up on a table, waving the gun around and yelling over the din.
“You are all now hostages. The guards are dead. Everyone remain in your seats. We will be coming around to tie you up. Stay calm and cooperate, and we won’t—”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The man wavered comically and collapsed, followed closely by his accomplices. Kate cautiously stood up. She couldn’t hear a thing; her ears felt blocked, and she could only hear a dull throb. She looked at Grant. He was standing a few steps away from their table and had a large pistol in his hand. He seemed eerily calm and detached, his gun in a loose but controlled grasp.
She watched his eyes dart around, then he slowly lowered the gun and began to move assuredly around the room asking, “Anyone hurt? Does anyone need medical attention?”
Kate could hear the sirens faintly over the throbbing in her ears. She mouthed to her grandmother, “Are you okay?”
The older woman looked as if she had had a shock, but she nodded then stood up and went to nearby tables to reassure people. The club members were already on their phones to 911. Kate staggered over to Grant, who was standing over the would-be hostage takers. One of the bodies jerked, and she jumped with a little scream. Grant fired another bullet into the assailant’s head.
“Don’t worry. They’re dead,” Grant mouthed to her.
He holstered his gun as the doors crashed open, the SWAT team bursting in. Kate automatically put her hands in the air. The officers swept through the room. Several came over to Grant, where he was standing next to the assailants bleeding on the floor. Kate worked her jaw, trying to force her hearing to come back as the officers began to question Grant.
“We’re fine!” her grandmother shouted as she came over, waving her arms. “He shot them. He’s a marine! He saved us all.”
She tried to lead the crowd in a round of applause. Everyone was too stunned to join in.
“Please, Gram,” Kate said. The muffled throbbing in her ears was now a ringing. It was disorienting, but she felt as if she could hear again, at least.
“Did you shoot them?” the officer asked, looking at Grant, impressed.
Grant nodded.
“From where?”
“We were sitting over there in the corner!” Margaret said.
“Gram, stop it!” Kate hissed, trying to pull the woman away. “Go sit down.”
“You made that shot?” The officer whistled.
“Yes,” Grant said.
“That’s impressive.”
“It’s lots of practice,” Grant said.
He didn’t seem all that affected by what just happened, Kate thought.
“I was in Iraq in ’08.”
“Bad time then,” Grant said.
The man nodded then held out his hand.
Grant shook it.
“Thank you for your service.”
“Thank you,” Grant replied.
The detectives came in with the EMT, and a bomb squad was called to sweep the clubhouse. Kate helped several of the elderly members out to the lush lawn then went over to stand near Grant. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do. She had never been in a situation like this before.
Grant had to give a play-by-play of the event over and over whenever a new department showed up.
“And here come the vultures,” the FBI investigator said as news vans pulled into the parking lot. “Do me a favor and don’t talk to them,” she said to Kate and Grant, tucking her notebook under her arm.
“Yes, ma’am,” Grant replied.
“If we wanted everyone to love you again, this probably does the trick,” Kate said and started laughing hysterically. Everything could have turned out horribly wrong—Grant could have been killed. Her grandmother could have been killed. “Unless…” She gasped. “Unless they blame you for tearing up the building.”
Grant looked at her, concerned. “Are you all right?” he asked as he pulled her close to him.
She relaxed as he held her tightly to his chest, trying not to cry but failing. Grant wiped away her tears with his thumb.
“It’s okay,” he told her. “You’re safe. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.”