Page 68 of Tailspin


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The attendant fished around in a cluttered drawer and produced a key with a cardboard tag that had the number ten on it. Wilson took it from him. He and Rawlins headed for the door.

“Can I come?”

“No,” the deputies chorused.

The towels in the bathroom were still damp. The bed and pillows had been lain on. Other than that, there was nothing in the cabin cluing them to where Brynn O’Neal and Rye Mallett had gone, nothing identifying the two men they’d left with.

“I don’t suppose you got that Mercedes’s license plate number.”

Wilson shook his head with chagrin. “Not even a partial.”

Rawlins headed for the open cabin door. “Well, lucky for us the café got burglarized last spring.”

Wilson caught his chain of thought and hurried to catch up. “The café has a security camera.”

“Installed the week after the break-in.” Rawlins walked toward his SUV.

Wilson slowed down only long enough to retrieve Marlene White’s key fob from under the rock where Mallett had told her it would be. Wilson had offered to drive the car back for her and park it in the hospital lot. “I’ll leave the key for her at the admissions desk,” he told Rawlins. “Pick me up out front.”

“On the way, I’ll call the owner of the café and tell him to meet us there. I want to see his security camera video.”

“He won’t like it. It’s Thanksgiving.”

“I don’t care if it’s the Second Coming. Brady is still in ICU, condition guarded. Rye Mallett and Dr. O’Neal might have made nice with Marlene, but they still have a lot to answer for.”

3:03 p.m.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted her to go alone,” Delores said. “I told Nate as much. This proves my instinct was right.” She reached for the crystal stem at her place setting and raised the glass of wine to Richard.

They toasted and drank.

The traditional Thanksgiving meal was being served to them in their formal dining room. They were having it midday in anticipation of the eventful evening. The senator sat at the head of the long table, Delores adjacent to him on his right. They had dressed for the occasion to keep up appearances of normalcy, if only for their housekeeper-cook.

Minutes before they were due in the dining room, they had received the call from Goliad that they had been nervously awaiting. For the most part, the news had been good. Dr. O’Neal had been located.

However, the circumstances in which she’d been found had sent Delores into orbit. She was still circling.

“What could possibly have induced her to have a rendezvous while the clock is ticking down?” She punctuated the words by stabbing her fork into a slice of turkey breast meat.

“Animal magnetism?”

Her fork clattered against the china plate. “How can you joke about it, Richard? Although the way Goliad has described this pilot, it does sound as though he’s still evolving.”

He smiled. “I doubt he’s that low, or Dr. O’Neal wouldn’t have found him attractive.”

“I don’t care if he’s been named Sexiest Man Alive, what could have possessed her?” She ignored her plate of food and followed the progress of her fingertip around the embossed pattern on the tablecloth. “I hope it was only sex that kept her away for so long. It all sounds very fishy, like she and this pilot have teamed up.

“That business about the receipt sounds like utter nonsense. You’re a senator. Have you ever heard of an FAA regulation to that effect?” Without waiting for Richard’s answer, she threw her linen napkin onto the table and stood up. “I’ll have someone in your office look it up.”

“Delores, sit down.”

His imperative tone halted her. She looked at him with surprised affront.

“Dr. O’Neal is a young, healthy, and independent woman. She wanted to go to bed with the man. Stop making something monumental of it.” He spoke in a measured and reasonable voice, which had much more impact than a rant. It suggested anger barely contained, a fragile control over his temper.

Delores slapped her hand over the center of her chest. “Well, forgive me if saving your life is monumentally important to me.”

He took a deep, steadying breath. “I apologize for using such a strident tone with you. We’re both on edge.” He stood and held her chair. “Please, Del. Let’s finish our meal.”

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