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“Good luck with your patient.”
Rye thanked him again, but issued a final word of warning. “Remember what I told you. If anyone comes around asking, cover your ass.”
Jake slapped him on the shoulder and wished them a safe flight.
On their taxi, rain bombarded the windshield. Poised at the end of the runway, Rye reached over and squeezed Brynn just above her knee. She jumped. He smiled over her startled reaction and spoke above the engine noise. “Scared?”
She shook her head.
“Liar.”
He’d noticed her white-knuckling the edge of the copilot’s seat. Although the cockpit view of the elements was intimidating, she preferred sitting beside Rye to being in one of the four passenger seats behind the cockpit.
Solemnly, Rye looked directly into her eyes. “Brynn. This is what I do.”
His confidence calmed her. “I wouldn’t be here with any other pilot.”
He held her stare, then verbally acknowledged the clearance he’d received in his headset.
She recalled what he’d told her last night in the bar about the anticipation he felt before each takeoff. I still can’t wait.
When he gave it the throttle, she experienced the same level of exhilaration.
9:12 a.m.
Goliad would rather have taken another drubbing than return to the Hunts’ mansion with nothing to show for his efforts except failure.
The housekeeper admitted him into the house. “They’ve been waiting for you to show up. They’re having breakfast. I’ll tell them you’re here.”
Dispassionately, she asked if he would like an ice pack for his nose. It was swollen and red and, unless he underwent corrective surgery, would probably be permanently misshapen. But he declined the ice pack. Swelling nose and eyes were the least of his worries as he made his way to
the sitting room of the master suite, where private meetings were customarily conducted.
He didn’t have to wait long before Richard strode in, Delores close behind. She was immaculately dressed, perfectly groomed, but, as during any high-stakes situation, the air around her seemed to crackle with her unique brand of energy.
The senator walked straight up to Goliad, his expression demanding. “I gave your disappearing act the benefit of the doubt. I told Delores to relax, that you must be hot on the trail of Dr. O’Neal. But here you are, and no doctor.”
“I located her, but she managed to get away.”
“What about that?” Richard asked of his nose.
“Mallett. With the help of a corrupt cop, I tracked them to a hotel. It was late. Since nothing happened overnight, I saw no reason to disturb you. This morning, I intercepted them as they were leaving.” He described the encounter. “I hoped to talk the doctor out of it without creating any trouble.”
“Obviously she didn’t go for that idea.”
“She saw an opportunity to run, and did.” He told them about getting caught in the elevator. “There was nothing I could do until I closed in on Mallett at the exit. He stunned me. By the time I got outside, all I could see were their taillights. I didn’t get a plate number on the car.”
“‘There was nothing I could do’?” Delores repeated. “I don’t accept that, Goliad.”
“There was nothing I could do without the risk of implicating you, ma’am. Or you, senator.”
“I would have denounced you,” Richard said. “That’s always been our agreement. If you’re caught committing a crime, you’re on your own.”
“That’s still our agreement,” Goliad said. “On any other day, I would have shot both of them up there on the seventh floor. If caught, I would have expected you to disavow any knowledge of it. Today, however, I thought you would rather avoid any and all dealings with the police.”
“He’s right, Richard,” Delores said. “Investigators would have linked him to us like that.” She snapped her fingers. “We can’t have any more policemen showing up at our gate, asking questions, probing. Today of all days, discretion is essential.”
“Discretion?” The senator turned to her. “That’s a curious word to use in light of what’s happening as we speak.”
