9. THE THREAT

As Richard turned from the table with his apologies to attend to the insistent voice on the other end of the line, Charity tucked her cell phone back into the little black purse that accompanied her everywhere and observed her companions. �Garrett,� she said, �your duties must be different in the forest land in the winter. What occupies your time when snow falls and hunters are less likely to go poaching?�

The handsome man looked at her with renewed appreciation, a glow entering his eyes as he thought of his beloved woods, mountains, and streams. The restaurant around them seemed to recede, the haunting strains of violin music from the floor fading in the strength and conviction that flooded his voice. �There are fewer poachers this time of year, it is true, but we still protect the outer barrier and make regular trips up the logging trails. People often like to go snowmobiling and lose their way. Just last week a group of teenagers got lost on the northern ridge. We were fortunate to find them before nightfall. There are numerous predators in the Rockies, not to mention the cold itself.�

Richard leaned over and whispered into his wife�s ear before politely excusing himself from the table. His formidable form vanished into the outer corridor as the waiter approached bearing a tray. Luxurious food was placed in front of them, accompanied by inquiries as to if everything was to their liking. He then vanished again, leaving the others to contemplation. Carissa looked at her with raised eyebrows, and Charity responded, arranging the pristine white napkin on her lap, �We may as well begin without him. Richard tends to indulge in rather lengthy phone conversations. Garrett, in his absence, would you�?�

Peace entered his composure, for prayer was one thing Garrett mastered with ease. His devotion to the Lord was apparent in every aspect of his life, and never was his voice more warm or languid more fluid than when he humbly approached the throne. Taking up his wife�s hand and reaching across for the icy fingers resting on the table�s edge, he thanked God for their safety and the companionship of good friends. Charity smiled as they looked up in the candlelight, then took up her fork, glancing in the direction her husband had vanished with mild uncertainty.

������������.

The double doors leading to the outer chamber beyond the restroom often used for smoking and now vacant as others dined to soft music and candlelight, swung closed behind Richard as he entered, the slender black phone pressed against his ear. Opening the door into the bathroom just wide enough to perceive there was no one present, he said, �Now, would you care to repeat yourself?�

At the other end of the line was a voice, tranquil and utterly composed, deep and with a tendency toward melodramatic sighs. �You heard me perfectly the first time, Mr. Daven. I inquired if your wife was perfectly all right after her narrowly avoided collision this afternoon.�

A bank of mirrors along the far wall perfectly reflected the dangerous look that came into Richard�s eyes. It altered his appearance just enough to rise a hint of the macabre to the surface. �I presume there is a point to this?� he inquired impatiently. The caller had refused to identify himself, and the number could not be traced, as it had been routed through his public office. The phone had rung innocently enough and he presumed it was of importance, or he would never have answered it in the midst of dinner. Even the awkwardness of being seated at a table with Garrett Hudson was more amiable than the grating individual on the other end of the line.

�Your wife was fortunate, Mr. Daven. With the roads as they are, and the irresponsible drivers that assail our roads this time of year, one might not be as fortunate next time.�

The hand lightly resting on the wall at his side tensed. �What is it you want?�

�I understand you�re in consideration for a nomination to run for the District Attorney�s office. I would advise against it.�

Silence invaded the room, broken only by the faint murmur of voices and music beyond the glass doors. Richard was not a newcomer to the dangerous business in which he was involved, having grown up in a formidable household. His father had taught him never to back down and he hadn�t, not through all the disagreements over his decisions in the assistant office, nor the threats he had encountered in the past. The public knew him to be harsh but fair, remarkable in his skills on the courtroom floor and equally ambitious. His wife never hampered these tendencies, but instead seemed to encourage them. If the man on the other end of the line anticipated resignation and weakness, he was severely disappointed, for nothing but strength and anger resonated through his voice.

�Look,� said Richard as footsteps approached down the corridor, �I don�t know who the hell you think you are, but I will not be intimidated. Stay away from my wife.� He slammed the cell shut, severing the connection, and turned to depart�nearly colliding with Garrett, whose face was such a remarkable composure of emotions that he was not certain how much had been overheard.