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“But without invitation,” the deputy said. “They’ve got their own jet and two pilots on staff.” He gave Rye a scornful once-over. “Why would they resort to using your services?”
“This is absurd!” Brynn exclaimed. She spun around to Nate. “You know this is a farce. You made the arrangements. Do something, say something.”
His eyes were cool, calculating. “At your urging, I agreed to fly with him, Brynn. But I don’t know anything about aviation rules and regulations. If he’s in violation of them, that’s hardly my fault.”
She stared at him, aghast. “In good conscience, you can’t let his happen, Nate.”
But apparently he could. Goliad motioned him toward the SUV. “The Hunts are waiting for you, Dr. Lambert.” Without an instant of hesitation, Nate strutted to the vehicle and climbed up into it.
Goliad took Brynn’s elbow. She jerked it free. “I’m not going.”
“The Hunts requested to see you,” Goliad said. “Specifically.”
“I don’t give a damn what the Hunts requested. Specifically. I’m not leaving until this matter is settled. Rye flew to this airstrip with the Hunts’ full knowledge, permission, and gratitude.”
The two deputies looked at each other, then came back to her. One said, “That’s not what we were told, miss.”
“Then they lied. Mr. Mallett didn’t do anything wrong.”
Goliad moved closer to her. “Maybe your father would vouch for him.”
The veiled threat, softly spoken, hit Brynn like a freight train. Her lips parted, but only a thread of breath escaped. No words.
Goliad added, “A deputy could be dispatched to pick him up. His parole officer would be notified, of course.” Through the slits of his swollen lids, his eyes were implacable.
She looked at Rye and made a gesture of helplessness.
“It’s okay. Go. I can take care of this.”
“But—”
“Don’t stick your neck out for me. I’ll be gone tomorrow anyway, remember?” To punctuate that, he put his sunglasses back on, blocking her from seeing into his eyes. Despite his softly spoken words as he buckled her seat belt, this was another shutdown, another goodbye.
Goliad took her arm again, and this time she didn’t have it within herself to resist. She got into the SUV. As Timmy scooted in beside her in the back seat, he said, “Ohhh. You gonna miss him?” He made smooching noises close to her ear.
She ignored his mockery. To respond, even with as little as a dirty look, would require energy she no longer had. Her fighting spirit had been drained dry.
4:17 p.m.
Rye would have fought tooth and nail to keep Brynn out of that SUV, if not for Goliad’s threat regarding Wes. Whether Brynn admitted it or not, she loved the scoundrel. She had looked stricken at the thought of him and his parole being placed in jeopardy.
Rye knew if he acted unmoved and detached, she would believe it. He could tell by her hurt expression that he’d been convincing. He would apologize later. First he had to get through to these deputies that he’d been set up and that Brynn’s situation was precarious.
As the SUV pulled away, he turned to them. “Have you talked to a Deputy Wilson or Rawlins? From Howar
dville? They’re up to speed on what’s really happening here. Dr. O’Neal may be in danger.”
“In danger from you. We know. That’s why the Howardville SO put out a BOLO on you two last night after you abducted her from a garage.”
“Abducted? No. Listen. A lot has happened since then. Brynn’s life was threatened today. That little guy, looks like a fox? He’s been holding her at knifepoint all afternoon. Lambert is in just as much danger, only he can’t see past his own ego. No love lost between him and me, but I’m afraid for him, too. I just didn’t let on now because—”
He broke off, realizing that, for all the reaction he was getting from them, he had just as well have been speaking a lost language. Neither appeared alarmed by what he was telling them. Neither had even blinked. That’s when it hit him: They were on Hunt’s under-the-table payroll.
If he implicated the senator in any wrongdoing, he would be taken straight to lockup. He would be denied even his one phone call. The lock on his cell would corrode before he was released. That’s why Goliad had said You’re over with such succinct confidence.
Rye scanned the horizon. No cavalry was coming over the hill. The pine tree–lined road intersecting the runway was empty. He was on his own.
One of the deputies went through the motions of being an honest cop and consulted his notes. “You’re not the registered owner of this plane, Mr. Mallett.”
