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Following her dumbfounding monologue, Nate braced himself for Richard’s reaction, one with an impact equal to an earthquake, a lightning strike, another big bang. Therefore, it astounded him when a smile spread slowly across the senator’s face.
When he spoke, his voice didn’t rumble with righteous wrath. Rather, it was soft and laced with sympathy. “How naïve of you, Delores. Did you honestly think that I didn’t know what you had planned? If Dr. O’Neal hadn’t come in when she did and taken that vial from you, I would have. I knew what you were about.” He cast a glance toward Timmy. “Did you actually believe that I would allow you to put this urban vulture on the payroll without thoroughly vetting him myself?”
She laughed. “You were oblivious.”
“If it makes you feel better to think that,” he said with a shrug. “Every kiss, caress, tear, avowal of how much you loved me, all lies.”
“You didn’t know! You couldn’t have known.”
“You’re not nearly as good at deception as you think you are. As it turns out, I’m far superior.”
She tossed her hair again. “What difference does it make now who was the better deceiver? You can’t tell anyone about this or you incriminate yourself, just like that redneck pilot said. I have the video that proves your compliance in our little scheme. You’re not going to show it to anyone. Not when you’re so outspoken on imposing stiffer FDA regulations. Exposing this scandal would irreparably cripple your crusade.
“So,” she said, spreading her arms at her sides, “we’ll put this behind us. Our marriage will go on as before. In due time, I’m sure Nate can procure another dose of the GX-42.”
Richard looked at her with a sympathetic smile. “Impossible, darling.”
“With enough money, anything is possible.”
“It has nothing to do with money. We won’t go on as before because you’ll be dead, killed by the man who loved you.”
“You would never kill me.”
“True. But he will.”
He nodded toward the doors, which had been silently pulled open by Goliad. He stood with a pistol in hand.
Timmy gaped at him stupidly. “You’re dead.”
Goliad fired a straight shot through the center of Timmy’s forehead. He never felt it.
Delores looked at Goliad and exhaled his name in appeal.
“You have no honor.” The bullet went through her heart. She dropped.
Goliad lowered his arm. The pistol fell from his hand to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said to Richard.
The obsidian eyes that, to Nate, had always looked disturbingly lifeless did actually blink out an instant before his body collapsed. The hilt of a knife was sticking up out of his back.
5:50 p.m.
Heedless of the rain and the absence of headlights, Rye never took his foot off the accelerator between the mansion and the runway, steering with one hand, holding his cell phone to his ear with the other. He filed another flight plan. “Two souls on board.” He completed the call just as they reached the end of the landing strip.
Sheets of rain slashed against the SUV. He glanced over at Brynn. “Weather’s not ideal, but we’ll punch through it at about eight thousand feet. You okay with that?”
“Yes, just get me there. Can we make it?”
“We’ll make it.”
“In time?”
“We’ll make it,” he repeated with emphasis. “But better we do this in the dark until right before takeoff. Can you see your way to the plane?”
She could barely make out its shape in the darkness. “I’ll find it.”
“You go first,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”
She flipped up her hood, but it did her little good against the deluge. She was out of breath and shivering with cold by the time she reached the right side of the craft. Rye caught up with her there.
