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Rusty shrugged. “Force of habit. Sometimes I do research for cases. I just thought if there was anything shady, and you were worried, I could—”
Ray’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Meet me in the office after dinner. I’ll print out all the info we have on her.”
“Okay. Can’t promise a thing, but being proactive always makes me feel less anxious about things,” she said.
“Enough about all this business stuff,” Patricia said. “I’m going to check on dinner. Liz, stop moping about Michael. Either call him or kick him to the curb.”
Liz frowned. “Mom! Really? I am not calling him. He’ll grovel back on his own or he won’t.”
Patricia left the library, and a few moments later, Liz followed.
Ray glanced at Rusty again. “You’re quite the paper pusher, aren’t you?”
Rusty stood. “I am what I am, Uncle Ray.”
Ray nodded. “I will stow my curiosity and questions,” he said, and got up and hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“So am I, Uncle Ray. So am I,” she said, and hugged him back.
They walked to the dining room together.
The hotel staff arrived with their food, set it all on the table, filled their wineglasses, then disappeared, leaving them to dine.
As soon as they were gone, Ray lifted his glass.
“A toast to our Rusty. To you, dear niece, and for total healing while you are with us.”
“To Rusty,” Liz and Aunt Pat echoed.
The clink of glasses one to the other and the smiles that came with them were balm to Rusty’s solitary life.
“Thank you,” she said, and took a quick sip. “Dinner looks and smells amazing, and prime rib is one of my favorites,” she said.
Ray beamed. “Our chef just won another Michelin star. We’re very proud of him and our kitchen. Enjoy!”
And so they did, chattering among themselves as they ate.
“I’m getting the good out of the hot tub,” Rusty said.
Patricia nodded. “It’s good for sore muscles. It’ll help you heal faster.”
“I have plenty of those, but it is very relaxing. I could get spoiled to this,” Rusty said.
Ray glanced up. “I keep meaning to ask. How did you come to rate a flight in on a government chopper?”
Rusty blinked.What happened to no more questions?
Ray continued. “A member of our security staff saw it coming in. He recognized the pilot and knows he flies people from the Department of Justice all over the country.”
“Yes, well, I had my accident on company time, and my boss set up the flight. I didn’t question the offer,” Rusty said.
Ray nodded and continued to eat, but he was remembering one of his last conversations with his brother before he died. Something about Rusty and the risks her job entailed. At the time, the comment hadn’t really registered, but now he was thinking there was more to her than met the eye.
His security officer had been very forthcoming about how the DOJ operates, and Ray was absolutely certain they didn’t spend government money sending clerks and secretaries on vacation to visit family, even if they had been hurt on the job. He watched her curiously as dinner continued, but didn’t pry about her personal life again.
Rusty felt her uncle’s gaze more than once, but she never acknowledged it. She just rode out the evening with all the poise and grace she could manage, and felt guilty for the lie between them.
After dinner, she followed Ray to his office and waited while he printed off all the info he had on Emily Payne. He handed it to her without comment.
