"So which seminar are you going to again?" asked Francine as she and Amanda worked their way across the crowded lobby.
Amanda glanced down at her registration sheet. "Understanding the Mind of a Thief," she replied. "It sounded interesting - the speaker apparently knows a lot about criminal psychology and it says he'll lay out ways to avoid pitfalls in security and recognize all the ways criminals plan crimes."
"That does sound interesting," said Francine. "But not as interesting as the one I'm going to on "Espionage Techniques in the Face of Shifting International Power Paradigms."
"If you say so," Amanda grinned. "You're more likely to need that than I am. My area of interest seems to be more domestic than international. And don't!" She held up a hand and shook her head in mock despair. "I know, I just walked right into that one."
"Well, this whole week is really just about your domesticity," teased Francine. "I can't believe you and Lee are having a Vegas wedding!"
"No, this week is about the conference and the weekend is about domesticity," Amanda corrected her. "And it's not a 'Vegas wedding', it's just a wedding in Las Vegas. Lee's uncle found us a lovely chapel near the base and there will be absolutely no Elvis impersonators!"
"Are you sure about that? You did say I could bring someone," cracked Francine.
"Did I? I thought Lee rescinded your invitation and Efraim was bringing you as his plus one."
"Did I hear my name?"
As if conjured up by their words, Francine's new partner appeared at their side and the two women smiled at each other. He really did seem to have an uncanny ability to find Francine, no matter how large the crowd. And this crowd was huge - Amanda had heard that this law enforcement conference had over 15,000 delegates.
"We're just comparing notes on what seminars we're headed to," said Amanda. "What are you signed up for?"
"The one on thieves' psychology," he replied. "I think it might be helpful with the design of some computer programs for security systems."
"Well, I'm going to that one too, so we can sit together," Amanda beamed. "Lee's gone off to one of the offsite ones on the future of weapons."
"Sounds like an excuse to play at the gun range to me," chuckled Efraim.
"You are exactly right," agreed Amanda. "But it's fun for me when he comes back acting all he-man and dripping testosterone."
"Lalalalalalala!" Francine pretended to slam her hands over her ears, while Amanda and Efraim laughed.
"This is our stop," Efraim gestured to the door they were approaching. "We'll see you at lunch?"
Francine glanced at her schedule. "Yeah - meet you there!" she said as she strode off toward the next room.
Amanda and Efraim worked their way through the crowd; the room was large but there were apparently a lot of people interested in the topic. As it got more congested, Efraim moved in front of Amanda, clearing a path for her to the front.
"Do you usually sit in the front row too?" she asked as they settled in.
"No, but I know from having you in my class that that's where you like to be," he grinned. "And actually, it is nice to be able to stretch out my legs," he added when it looked like she was about to apologize.
"I just like to really see the face of the person speaking," said Amanda. "I feel like I get more out of it if I can see how they're feeling about what they're saying, more like a conversation, you know?"
Efraim nodded. "That does seem to be where you excel," he agreed. "Glimpsing those personal insights and tics that give us a clearer understanding of a target."
"Well, it works on my boys," Amanda laughed. She settled in and studied the handout they'd been given on the way in. "The 7th Marquess of Grantfield doesn't sound much like someone who would know a lot about criminals," she commented.
"Oh, you know what the Brits are like," he replied. "He's probably some kind of dry Oxford professor type who putters around a vast library on his country estate writing papers."
"Or a James Bond MI5 type who leads a secret spy life in between attending tea parties with the Queen," quipped Amanda.
The lights dimmed slightly and the crowd settled in expectantly. A middle-aged man strode to the lectern, squinting slightly as he stepped into the spotlight.
Efraim elbowed Amanda with a grin. "I win," he whispered.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," intoned the man in an unmistakable American accent. "I'm David Wright, one of the committee members for the conference and I'm here today to introduce you to the next speaker."
"Not yet, you haven't," teased Amanda, nudging him back. "It might still be Roger Moore."
"Lord Grantfield," Mr. Jones went on, "is considered to be one of the leading experts on art and collectibles theft, and we are very lucky indeed to have been able to get him onto our list of speakers for this event. For that, we must thank Steven Georgios, the owner of the soon-to-be opened casino Amara because he is the reason Lord Grantfield is here, as a consultant for the security system that will protect Mr. Georgios' priceless art collection. This art collection will form the basis for the museum to be housed at the Amara and while I'm sure Lord Grantfield will not be revealing any of the secrets he has in mind for its security…" he paused for the roll of rueful laughter from the crowd, "I'm sure his insights into the criminal mind will be just as useful to you in your endeavors to keep the world a safer place. So without further ado, ladies and gentleman, may I present Lord Nicholas Mainwaring, 7th Marquess of Grantfield!"
He stepped away from the podium as a man entered from the wings, grinning broadly and waving at the crowd.
"Oh my gosh!" said Amanda. "Oh no, it can't be! It just can't be!"
"What's the matter?" asked Efraim
"Lee is going to murder him. He just can't be here, not here, not now, not this week."
"Amanda!" Efraim hissed at her. "What are you talking about? Who can't be here?"
Amanda gestured at the speaker at the podium.
"Nick Grant."