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“I was supposed to be with your father the day he died. I had a doctor visit in town, but had to cancel it at the last minute because of an emergency teacher’s meeting. Your father decided to take his wife along instead, make a day of it and see if they could start working though their problems.”
Her words nailed him like relentless mortar rounds. How she should have been in the car. McRae’s money transfer to Rubistan shortly before. Daniel blanked his face and prayed she wouldn’t draw inferences. He should have known better.
All too soon, dawning horror stained her face. “You don’t think? Kent couldn’t have been responsible. Could he? Oh, God, Danny, please don’t let me have caused your father’s death.”
Think before opening the yap, Baker.
He forced his mind to work, remember that she needed to be a part of whatever happened. A tough thing to do when his instincts blared for him to lock her in the bathroom and barricade her there while he stood between her and the rest of the world.
“Stop looking for trouble, Mary Elise. Ammar makes the more likely suspect if my father’s death wasn’t an accident. Killing my father would give Ammar control over the widow, the boys and all their inherited money.” His conscience kicked him, reminded him of Mary Elise’s insistence on no more passive roles. He just wanted to keep her safe.
His conscience gave him another hefty punt. “But it’s possible he could have been working with McRae.”
“How so?”
“McRae has been funneling money into the Middle East underworld. The FBI has already been alerted.”
“Terrorism?”
“That. And Rubistan is one of the largest suppliers of opium. There are any number of likelihoods. But yes, I think McRae tracked you. And I think it’s possible he and Ammar hooked up.” Daniel paused, ready to pull her close if she fell apart.
Mary Elise blinked once, tears glinting but not falling, then nodded for him to continue.
“Regardless, I think Ammar was gunning for my father.”
“And Kent would have found help even without Ammar.”
“Exactly.”
The glaze of tears disappeared, replaced by a different glint altogether. Suspicion. “When did you find out about the overseas transactions?”
Uh-oh. “Yesterday.”
“Last night?”
Baker, you are so busted. “Yesterday morning.”
Silently she stood, walked away from him and made a big production out of straightening a stack of papers by the computers.
“Go ahead and say it, ’Lise.”
“Obviously, I don’t need to.” The papers slid from her hands in a scattered mess, making a lie of her seeming calm.
Not unlike the mess he was making of this conversation. “You’ll feel better if you chew me out.”
A dry smile twitched as she collected the pages. “I doubt it.”
Talk, for Pete’s sake. Shout. Care enough to fight back so he would have a clue what she was thinking. Then he could plan a counter-defense. Strategize so they wouldn’t self-destruct their relationship this time.
He shot to his feet. His boots traced a restless path on the hardwood floor, across the brown braid rug, back and forth in front of the stone fireplace. He needed action. Decisions. All the waiting and inaction left him with too much time to think about the past.
Flashes of his nightmare had him ready to snap like one of those trip wires strung under the cabin. Watching her distance herself from him didn’t help. He needed reassurance she wouldn’t bolt, not a lot to ask.
He wanted her safe beside him so he wouldn’t have to worry about her day and night. “We should probably try to find something in the same school district so the boys aren’t uprooted again.”
“What?” She tucked the papers in her suitcase.
He paced over to the computers, checked again, found the same uninhabited security picture of sunrise filtering over the deserted beach. Nothing but a pelican and some egrets hunting for breakfast. Alarms stayed silent.
