Tailspin(113)

“Then neither Violet nor her parents will ever know what she missed out on. And, possibly, compassionate use will be approved for her before the new regulations are enforced.”

“New regulations?”

Realizing his slip, he said, “We can discuss it later.”

“Nate, damn you. What?”

In rapid and broken phrases, he explained about the upcoming Senate committee hearing on experimental drugs and clinical trials.

“And Senator Hunt’s position on the clamp-down?”

Nate’s abashment said it all.

“So this is the only dose available now, and more than likely the only one for the foreseeable future.”

“Now that’s a damn shame.” Timmy nicked her coat with the tip of his knife. “Give it up.”

“Brynn, for heaven’s sake,” Nate groaned. “You’ve lost. Lose gracefully.”

“Or lose your life,” Timmy said.

She scoffed. “You wouldn’t kill me in front of all these people.”

He moved with the speed of a striking snake, creating a slice in the fabric of her coat from one side seam to the other, deep enough to expose the fiber insulation. “See? I would. The next cut will open up your pretty, smooth belly. I could have you stuffed into Lambert’s Jag and bleeding out before anybody noticed.”

He had made a believer of her. Her heart was in her throat. She’d lost her capacity to breathe. Sensing her surrender, Nate began patting down her pockets while she stood frozen in fear.

He located the bubble-wrapped vial and took it out.

Timmy astounded them both when he snatched it from Nate and tossed it up like a baseball, catching it in midair. “Be careful with that, you idiot! Give it to me,” Nate demanded, holding out his hand.

“I’ll keep it.”

“I would rather safeguard it myself,” Nate said.

“Do you have a knife?”

“Knife? No.”

“Then shut up.”

Nate backed down and watched with uneasiness as Timmy tucked the vial into an inside pocket of his rain jacket.

“All right, we’ve got it, let’s go.” Nate glanced at his watch. “It’s elevenish now. That puts us back at three, three-thirty. Time enough.”

“You and I will ride in the back seat.” Timmy grabbed Brynn by the arm and began pulling her toward Nate’s car.

“Brynn!”

As one, she, Nate, and Timmy looked toward the source of the shout. Rye still had one leg inside the back seat of a car stopped at the corner. He clambered out, slammed the door shut, and began running toward them.

“Christ,” Nate moaned. “All we need. He’s a jinx.”

Renewed hope surged through Brynn.

With feline swiftness, Timmy executed an agile move that brought him to Brynn’s side, the blade of his knife pressed into her left armpit.

“Stop right there, Mallett.” He spoke softly, but in a voice that, in itself, sounded lethal.

Rye halted with such suddenness, inertia pushed him forward. He nearly lost his balance.

Timmy said, “I’ll slice off her tit, then stab her in the heart. It’ll burst like a balloon.”

Rye said, “You wouldn’t live to brag about it.”

“Let’s try it and see.”

Brynn’s breath gusted out. “I’m all right, Rye.”

“So far,” Timmy said. “But she won’t be if you don’t back off.”

“Your face looks like hell, Timmy,” Rye said. “What color are your balls this morning?”

“I owe you for that.”

“I agree. You want to use your knife, come after me. Let Brynn go.”

Brynn could see herself and Timmy reflected in the lenses of Rye’s sunglasses. She reasoned he was wearing them so Timmy couldn’t tell exactly where he was looking. Brynn intervened. “There’s no need for another fight.”

“Why’s he holding a knife on you?”

“He’s got the drug, and wants to make sure that it gets to the senator.”

“That’s right,” Nate said, his self-importance reasserting itself. “As was the original plan. This nonsense was totally unnecessary, Brynn. None of this would have happened if you had left well enough alone.” To Timmy, he said, “Let’s go. It’s a long drive back.”

Calmly, Rye said, “Why don’t you all fly back with me?”

“I don’t think so, ace,” Timmy said. “I already saw you crash.”

Brynn’s knees had gone weak with relief at his suggestion. Ignoring Timmy’s remark, she said, “That’s a wonderful idea. Don’t you think so, Nate?”

His gaze ricocheted among them, landing on Timmy. “It is a good idea. It would save hours. But we don’t need him to fly us. The Hunts’ jet is available.”

“But not the pilots,” Brynn said.

“What?” Nate asked.

“Abby, at the outpatient hotel? She told Rye and me last night that they were off duty until they fly Violet back on Tuesday.”

Rye said, “That’s right. She did.”

“Then I guess it’s you, or a four-hour drive,” Nate said.

Timmy still looked reluctant and distrustful. “You got a plane big enough?”