Too Close to Home: A Scarecrow and Mrs. King Continuing Story - Book 2

Chapter 9

Restaurant in D.C.

"Briscoe, party of three."

The maître d' smiled and checked her master list of reservations. "Yes." She reached down and grabbed three menus and three sets of dining utensils pre-wrapped in luxury cloth napkins. "This way, please." Efraim motioned for Francine to go ahead of him as the woman led them to a quiet corner table. "Your waiter will be right with you, and meanwhile, here is the wine list." She smiled again, handed them the list, and went back to the reception area.

Efraim put his arm around the back of Francine's chair. She didn't even look up from the wine list. "Don't get any ideas, Efraim."

"Who has ideas?" He glanced over at her but left his arm in place. "I'm just playing our cover."

She looked up and offered him an intimate smile that belied the warning in her eyes. "Yes, and just remember that."

"What do you say to the 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild?"

"The words, 'expense account' come to mind." Francine glanced toward the entrance to see a tall, blonde, professionally dressed woman come through the door. "She's here. Let's do this."

Efraim stood as the woman approached their table. "Ms. Wakefield." He offered a handshake.

"Mr. Briscoe?" She shook his hand but didn't smile.

"Yes..." He looked down at Francine. "And this is my wife, Franny Briscoe."

Francine bristled inwardly at the abbreviation of her name; Beaman would hear about that later. "Hello, Ms. Wakefield," Francine greeted her in a gently drawling accent. "Would you like a glass of wine? We're looking at the '82 Chateau Lafite."

"Mrs. Briscoe." The woman nodded at Francine and sat. "That sounds lovely, thank you."

Efraim motioned to the waiter and ordered the wine.

Ms. Wakefield looked around the room and then leaned forward. "Alright, Francine. I'm here. Why all the cloak and dagger?"

"Lydia," Francine's voice dropped ominously. "We need some information, but it's sensitive, and I don't want to get you into trouble if someone happens to be watching you."

Glancing furtively around the room without moving her head, Lydia's brow furrowed. "Why would anyone be watching me, Francine?"

Efraim noticed the waiter coming with the wine. "So, Ms. Wakefield, we're interested in hiring your law firm."

Lydia sat back in her upholstered seat as her glass filled with the dark libation. "Tell me about your case, Mr. Briscoe."

Putting his arm around Francine again, he leaned back in his chair. "Someone is trying to blackmail my wife." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Francine glare at him and tried not to smile. Ribbing her was far too entertaining.

As soon as the waiter left, Francine leaned forward again. "Lydia, we have reason to believe that one of the partners in your law firm has a fixer who killed a witness yesterday."

"Not to mention trying to kill a couple of our co-workers." Efraim interjected behind the wine glass he'd lifted to his lips. "Unfortunately for him, he ended up on the wrong end of a gun fight with a highly trained, highly accurate agent"

Lydia took a sip of her wine. "Do you happen to have the name of this...fixer?"

"His most recent ID had him going by the name Trevor Clayton." Always cautious, Francine kept one eye on her acquaintance while still aware of everything going on around her. Thankfully, there was no one within ear shot. Of course, one could never discount the possibility of a high-tech camera and microphone or someone lip-reading.