“A summons?” Emily refolded the damp towel she’d been using to wipe the counter. She had thirty minutes to be in front of her parents’ house to cut Mark off. She should never have warned the agents guarding her father to expect him, but she didn’t feel right withdrawing that invitation either. And he’d left no number for her to call him off.
“A request, ma’am. I’m to escort you to a meeting.” Mr. Frank Adams, blacksuit extraordinaire, stood at parade rest inside the swinging door leading from her kitchen to the third-floor Residence dining room.
It was nice being called “ma’am.” In the military, she was either “Sir” or “Hey, Beale!” But in the confines of her kitchen, “ma’am” sounded nice.
Emily decided to let Mr. Frank Adams wait while she hung the towel and shut down the lights. It af
