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“Seriously? You’re really arresting me?”
One pulled out flex-cuffs. “You have the right—”
“Don’t do this. Please. I’ve got to be in Howardville tomorrow morning at nine sharp. I can’t miss that meeting, or I could lose my pilot’s license.”
“You should have thought of—”
“Wait a goddamn minute!” Rye shouted when one secured both his wrists behind his back. “I can’t leave my buddy’s plane unsecured.”
They ignored all his protests and finished reading him his rights as he was roughly escorted to their car and pushed into the back seat. “You’re making a terrible mistake.” The car door was slammed in his face.
They drove away from the landing strip. When they rounded the same bend in the road that Goliad’s SUV had taken a few minutes earlier, Rye got his first look at the Hunts’ mansion.
Sitting atop a hill, it looked as impregnable as a castle. The dense cloud cover had created a premature dusk, which had activated the strategically placed landscape lighting around the house, bathing it in an incandescent glow.
Freaking Camelot, Rye thought. Complete with treachery within.
Brynn was up there. Inside. Doing what? Making her profound apology to the Hunts for her subterfuge? No. No way. Not Brynn. She wouldn’t grovel, but she would honor her professional oath and assist Lambert if he asked her to. She had told Rye she wouldn’t let the precious, single dose of GX-42 go to waste, even if Violet wasn’t the one to benefit from it.
But what really concerned Rye was what would happen to Brynn afterward. He had warned both her and Lambert that once the drug was inside Richard Hunt’s system, he would be more determined than ever to safeguard the secret of his illness and how he’d schemed to get the drug. The only way to guarantee that the secret would never get out would be to permanently silence anyone who was privy to it.
Rye’s blood ran cold. He had to get to Brynn.
Once again, he tried appealing to the deputies. “Listen, guys, there’s a whole lot more at stake here than you realize. Lives are on the line. Dr. O’Neal and Nate Lambert are—”
He was cut off and hurled against the far door when the deputy who was driving gave the steering wheel a sharp turn to the right in order to avoid a head-on collision with a vehicle in the opposing lane that crossed the center stripe.
The deputy overcorrected to keep from plowing into the ditch, but managed to straighten out as he stood on the brakes. The squad car went into a rubber-burning, fishtailing skid before coming to a jarring stop on the narrow shoulder.
The other vehicle backed up and came alongside the squad car. The darkly tinted driver’s window came down. Rawlins’s bellicose face appeared in the opening.
Chapter 36
4:51 p.m.
Goliad ushered Nate and Brynn into the mansion through the front door. Timmy came in behind them.
“I know the way.” Nate struck off in an impatient and self-important stride toward the sitting room in the master suite.
With no enthusiasm whatsoever, Brynn followed.
She had been here twice before, the first being when Nate and she had explained to the couple the application process for compassionate use of an experimental drug, and then again when Nate had laid out his plan to bootleg a single dose.
“For a price,” Brynn remembered him saying. At the time, she had thought only in monetary terms. Now, she was thinking of the real price: Violet’s life.
She entered the sitting room through a set of double doors. Tall, handsome, and imposing, Richard Hunt stood in the center of the room beneath a chandelier, waiting for Nate and her to approach him.
The senator shook hands with Nate and told him he was glad to see him. “Likewise,” Nate gushed. “It’s been a day, to say the least.”
The senator’s American-eagle gaze moved to Brynn. He took in her
dishevelment with obvious disdain. “Dr. O’Neal.”
With an equal shortage of warmth, she said, “Senator.”
Standing beside her husband, Delores looked as radiant as a blushing bride. Her cashmere sweater and wool slacks were the color of cream and so well tailored, they looked as though they had been poured over her shapely figure. Her blond mane was shiny, her makeup impeccably applied, jewelry expensive but understated.
The frostiness in her gaze belied her smile. “Dr. O’Neal. I understand that you journeyed all the way to Tennessee today to see Violet.”
