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If Sara didn't know better, she'd swear she was having a heart attack.
Swallowing the last of the piece of chocolate she'd been nursing along, she glanced at the GPS to make sure she was on the right track. With less than two miles to go through the sun-baked, oak-shrouded hills outside of Dallas, the readout told her she would reach the Mandeville estate in five minutes.
Oh, man. Five minutes?
Her palms became slick against the steering wheel of the armor-plated, custom-made luxury sedan, the standard ride for Lynchpin Security International's executive agents. Perspiration prickled along her brow despite the whisper of the car's air conditioning. Her lungs malfunctioned until they were incapable of pulling in an adequate supply of oxygen, and her pulse went from normal to hot-box of crazy in less than a second.
Damn. Maybe she really was having a heart attack.
Before Sara could decide whether or not she should hit the abort button on her mission and check into the nearest clinic, the no-nonsense blip of her ringtone sounded, loud enough to make her jump. Cursing her uncharacteristic edginess, she thumbed the appropriate button embedded in the steering wheel to activate the hands-free system.
"Go for Sara."
"I was hoping to catch you before you made it to Noah's," came the voice of her father and current head of Lynchpin Security International, S. William Savitch. "How close are you?"
Too close for any amount of comfort. "I'm almost there. For the record, I'm still hazy as to why I'm the one meeting with Noah Mandeville. He's always been your client, not mine. I barely know the man."
"LSI doesn't individualize its clientele. When one of us is on the job to protect and defend, we're all on the job to protect and defend."
Sara knew that, in the same way she knew the sky was up and water was wet. It didn't make her any happier. "Usually I have background information regarding security problems when I meet with a client, but Macbeth swore on his bag of CheeZee Puffs that there was none to give. He only said Noah wanted to meet with me, face to face. Has he given you any hint as to what's going on?"
"No, though that's not surprising. Noah's always had a flair for the dramatic."
"A flair for the dramatic is the one thing a bodyguard doesn't need." Out of sorts and wishing she could give into the childish desire to tell her father she didn't want to be a part of Lynchpin anymore, she glanced again at the GPS.
She sucked in a breath and held it before she could hyperventilate. "Maybe he's planning another trip down to Mexico, and he'd like to make it out without being kidnapped this time around."
"Noah swore he'd never again cross the border after that fiasco. Since he's kept that promise for fifteen long years, I don't see him getting itchy feet to do it now."
"Someplace else, then?"
"Could be, but again that would surprise me. Even if he wasn't getting on in years, he's only six months out from major heart surgery. I wouldn't expect for him to suddenly get the yen for a young man's adventure."
"Then I'm at a loss what this meeting could be about." Visions that had nothing to do with personal security bubbled to the surface, visions that had haunted her for a year and had her heart trying to pound a hole through her chest. Perhaps this visit with Noah Mandeville wasn't related to personal security at all. Maybe it had to do with his son.