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"Are you certain?" She found what she was looking for and began stroking him.
"Not one hundred percent certain, but fairly confident." He grinned. "Trust me, the two nights we've spent together are aberrations."
Tilting her head back against his shoulder, Karen smiled at him. "So what is your usual—ah—level of performance?"
He laughed. "Twice a day is plenty. Once is normal."
"Every day?"
"If I say yes, are you going to hold me to that?"
"Rain or shine."
"In that case, yes. But if I'm tired, you'll have to do the work."
"Oh, all right, if I have to." She stopped teasing him and took her hand away. "I'd better get ready. Want to shower with me?"
"I have breakfast ready. Eat first, then we'll shower."
After breakfast, he called Shannon to let him know where they were going. "I'm going to let McPherson know, too," he said.
"Are you on to something?"
"Karen remembers getting a box in the mail from her father. We're going to see what's in it."
"When will you be back?"
"Tonight, if we can get a flight. I didn't book a return ticket because I don't know how long this will take. Tomorrow for sure."
"Okay. I'll keep an eye on your house while you're gone, in case any suspicious characters start nosing around." He paused. "Watch your ass."
"I will. I'll let you know when we get back."
Then he called the number McPherson had given him, having decided to go with his instincts and trust the man. McPherson picked up on the second ring. "Yeah."
"This is Chastain. Miss Whitlaw is with me, and we're going to Columbus this morning to look at some papers of her father's that are in storage. I've notified Shannon, and he knows I'm calling you."
McPherson snorted. "Cautious soul, aren't you?"
"Cautious enough."
"It's a smart thing to be. I'll get someone there to tag along behind you."
"Tell me what he looks like, so I won't get nervous."
McPherson paused. Marc had the impression he covered the mouthpiece. Then he said, "Ah, okay. Tall, early to mid-thirties, dark brown hair, glasses."
"Got it."
"He—urn, he'll be wearing a Cincinnati baseball cap. Red. And, um, change the glasses to sunglasses."
Either the man who would be following them was standing right there in front of McPherson telling him what he was going to wear, or McPherson was making a list of instructions. Marc suspected the former, otherwise why cover the mouthpiece of the phone?
"Can he get there ahead of us?"
"No problem."
"How will he spot us?"
