Tailspin(122)

The deputies weren’t swayed. The negotiation went back and forth for several minutes while Rye tried his best to look contrite. Eventually Rawlins won out. Still handcuffed, Rye was packed into the back seat of the SUV. Rawlins started the motor but let it idle as they watched the other car disappear behind a rise.

Rye was the first to speak. “What took you so fucking long?”

“We were halfway to Howardville,” Rawlins said. “Took time to turn around. It was pissing rain, and you’ve got your nerve to complain.”

“I was beginning to think you hadn’t understood my cryptic message.”

“How’d you pull it off?” Wilson asked from the passenger seat.

“Three-way on my cell phone. I went to recent calls, called you back with one tap. As expected, Timmy got suspicious, stopped me there. When he gave me the go-ahead to call the flight service, and I got them on the line, I merged the calls. He didn’t notice. I was afraid you’d start blabbing into the phone, and I’d be blown.”

“No, the message came through.”

“I packed as much info as I could into that conversation about the flight plan, hoping you’d catch on.”

“We understood.”

“I thought you might have ignored me again. Why warn me about Timmy and Lambert being at the Griffins’ house if you weren’t going to send help?”

“We tried,” Wilson said. “Full explanation to local PD took a long time. It finally reached the brass, but they were squeamish. They knew that when their officers showed up there, they would be on TV. Didn’t want to get a bad rap for busting up the dying girl’s party with the mayor, organized by a senator.

“By the time they mustered enough guts and manpower and sent a unit out to the house, there was no sign of any of you. Didn’t know what airport you were at, or what plane you’d flown. Couldn’t track your cell phone or Brynn O’Neal’s. I’m sure you have yourself to thank for that. Tried Dr. Lambert’s, but with the weather—”

“Okay, okay, that’s history,” Rye said. “Thanks for showing up here. Those two who arrested me are dirty. They work for Hunt. Come on, Rawlins. Get going.” He nodded toward the steering wheel.

“Get going where?”

“To the Hunts’ place. We’ve got to get Brynn out of there.”

The two exchanged a look before Rawlins turned back to him. “Look, Mallett, Wilson and me played your phone game, drove all the way back here and saved you from a couple of cops on the take, only so you could send us to fetch your girlfriend? Does she even want to be fetched? Or is she glad to be rid of you?”

Rye leaned forward. “She’s no doubt glad to be rid of me, but she’s in trouble. Timmy? Why do you think I dropped his name? He was holding a knife on her while I was playing that phone game! We gotta move it. Now!”

Neither leaped into action. Wilson said, “We know Richard Hunt and his wife to be liars. We caught them in one about your altercation with Timmy. But Hunt is still a U.S. senator. Last time we showed up at his house, we left with our tails between our legs. We won’t go busting in again until we know why.”

“There’s no time to explain,” Rye said. “It’ll take too long.”

“Then you’d better get started,” Rawlins said, folding his thick arms across his chest. “From the top, and don’t leave anything out. Otherwise, we’re not going anywhere except back to Howardville, and we’re taking you with us.”

Rye looked at the clock on the dash. Twenty-five minutes past five. He’d been separated from Brynn for more than an hour. An eternity. Timmy needed only a tenth of a second to kill her.

Rye started talking and made each word count.

He told it straight, even admitting to ways in which he’d tried to confound them. He told them about the GX-42. He told them about meeting Jake in the bar and how he had come to his and Brynn’s rescue, twice.

“Leave him alone,” Rye said. “He didn’t know I was going to ‘trespass’ in his plane. He saw a pilot in trouble, he helped out. He would’ve done the same for any other aviator.”

“I doubt that,” Rawlins remarked. “You said he was starstruck.”

“I said no such thing.”

“Implied it. You said he’d heard of you in Afghanistan.”

“Airmen with time on their hands talk,” Rye said in a mumble, turning his head aside to look out the passenger window. It was raining again. The sky had turned stormy. He could no longer see the house on top of the hill.

Rawlins said, “Myra dug a little deeper on you and uncovered the details of what happened over there, learned about the crash of the plane you were supposed to be flying.”

“Myra’s a jewel.”

“Is that what’s the matter with you?”

Rye turned back to look at Rawlins. “Who said anything is the matter with me?”

Rawlins gave him a look. Wilson coughed behind his fist.

Rye cussed under his breath. “Okay, I carry around some shit; doesn’t everybody?”

“Way we heard it, you weren’t responsible.”

“Felt like it. I know I’m responsible for Brady. Weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have been there that night.”