Tailspin(119)

She looked at Rye and made a gesture of helplessness.

“It’s okay. Go. I can take care of this.”

“But—”

“Don’t stick your neck out for me. I’ll be gone tomorrow anyway, remember?” To punctuate that, he put his sunglasses back on, blocking her from seeing into his eyes. Despite his softly spoken words as he buckled her seat belt, this was another shutdown, another goodbye.

Goliad took her arm again, and this time she didn’t have it within herself to resist. She got into the SUV. As Timmy scooted in beside her in the back seat, he said, “Ohhh. You gonna miss him?” He made smooching noises close to her ear.

She ignored his mockery. To respond, even with as little as a dirty look, would require energy she no longer had. Her fighting spirit had been drained dry.

4:17 p.m.



Rye would have fought tooth and nail to keep Brynn out of that SUV, if not for Goliad’s threat regarding Wes. Whether Brynn admitted it or not, she loved the scoundrel. She had looked stricken at the thought of him and his parole being placed in jeopardy.

Rye knew if he acted unmoved and detached, she would believe it. He could tell by her hurt expression that he’d been convincing. He would apologize later. First he had to get through to these deputies that he’d been set up and that Brynn’s situation was precarious.

As the SUV pulled away, he turned to them. “Have you talked to a Deputy Wilson or Rawlins? From Howardville? They’re up to speed on what’s really happening here. Dr. O’Neal may be in danger.”

“In danger from you. We know. That’s why the Howardville SO put out a BOLO on you two last night after you abducted her from a garage.”

“Abducted? No. Listen. A lot has happened since then. Brynn’s life was threatened today. That little guy, looks like a fox? He’s been holding her at knifepoint all afternoon. Lambert is in just as much danger, only he can’t see past his own ego. No love lost between him and me, but I’m afraid for him, too. I just didn’t let on now because—”

He broke off, realizing that, for all the reaction he was getting from them, he had just as well have been speaking a lost language. Neither appeared alarmed by what he was telling them. Neither had even blinked. That’s when it hit him: They were on Hunt’s under-the-table payroll.

If he implicated the senator in any wrongdoing, he would be taken straight to lockup. He would be denied even his one phone call. The lock on his cell would corrode before he was released. That’s why Goliad had said You’re over with such succinct confidence.

Rye scanned the horizon. No cavalry was coming over the hill. The pine tree–lined road intersecting the runway was empty. He was on his own.

One of the deputies went through the motions of being an honest cop and consulted his notes. “You’re not the registered owner of this plane, Mr. Mallett.”

“A buddy loaned it to me.”

“Did he? Because we called the owner. Jake Morton? He said, yeah, he let you charter it, but with reservations. Didn’t know much about you.”

“I told him not to…” Rye stopped himself.

“What?” The deputy moved in closer. “Told him not to what?”

Rye said nothing else. Jake hadn’t trusted these guys, either. He’d only done what Rye had advised, but that advice might very well hang him now.

“Did Mr. Morton know you planned to fly his plane, unauthorized, to a private landing strip belonging to a U.S. senator?”

“No. It was a rushed, last-minute change of plan. But it wasn’t ‘unauthorized.’ I believe the arrangements were made through Mrs. Hunt. Maybe she forgot to inform the senator.”

“Close as they are, I doubt that,” one of the deputies said. “Besides, it’s not like Mrs. Hunt to forget anything, much less something that threatens their personal security.”

Rye didn’t comment, afraid that whatever he said from this point would soon reach the ears of the Hunts, placing Brynn in even greater peril.

One of the deputies asked him if he was armed.

“No.”

“A Glock is registered to you. And you have a CHL.”

“Y’all have gathered all this intel on me in only a couple of hours? You’ve sure been industrious.”

“We feared for the senator’s safety.”

“You think I look scary? What about the two guys in the black suits?”

“The little guy is new, but we’re well acquainted with Goliad.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Nice guy. Solid.”

“Hmm.” Solid as the kickbacks he doled out.

He was patted down despite his denial of being armed. One of the deputies said, “We’ll continue this conversation at the department annex.”

“I promised to return Jake’s plane tonight.”

“Sorry, that’s a promise you’ll have to break.”

“From here, the flight to the FBO where he hangars it will only take about twenty minutes. You can pick me up there.”

One snuffled a laugh. “We let you get back in that cockpit, what’s to keep you from taking off for Timbuktu?”

“Fuel capacity.”

The quip didn’t go over well. One of the deputies unsnapped his holster and curved his hand around the grip of his pistol. “Are you going to give us a hassle, Mr. Mallett?”