Tailspin(87)

While Wes was making coffee, Mallett went around to all the windows in the living area and made certain that the blinds were tightly drawn. He also checked the bolt on the front door.

When the coffee was ready, Wes and Brynn sat down at the table across the chessboard from each other. Mallett perched on the barstool. Mallett’s eyes were as watchful as a hawk’s. Or as a pilot’s, Wes supposed. Seek-and-avoid. Wasn’t that the aviation phrase? He was also alert to every sound.

Wes recognized the symptoms of feeling cornered and restless. He figured Mallett wasn’t new at getting out of scrapes. He looked the type.

“How did you get in?” Wes asked him.

“You taught Brynn a trick or two about housebreaking.”

Wes turned to her. “You came through the window?”

“Just like you taught me.”

Wes was pleased. “Then I guess I did something right by you. Cops inside. You didn’t make a sound. Good work.”

She didn’t acknowledge his praise. “We came by taxi, but had the driver let us out a few blocks from here. We walked the rest of the way, saw the sheriff’s SUV at the curb, and the two deputies on your porch. We went around back to wait until they’d left. Your bedroom window was open about an inch.”

“After sleeping in a cell block for years at a time, you appreciate breathing fresh air.”

“Rawlins didn’t notice the raised window when he came into the bedroom. It was open just enough so that we could hear your conversation.”

“Was everything he and Wilson told me the truth?”

“More or less,” Brynn replied.

“Which? More? Or less?”

“Neither Rye nor I harmed the man at the airport. We’re actually very worried about him.”

“I believe that. What’s the ‘but’?”

“But I do have something that Richard Hunt perceives as his.”

Wes slumped. “Your mother died afraid of this very thing.”

“Of what thing?”

“Afraid that you had gotten the gene, and that one day it would manifest itself.”

Brynn sighed. “Relax, Dad. I didn’t inherit your bent for stealing.”

“I don’t steal,” he said. “I just—”

“Take stuff that doesn’t belong to you,” Mallett remarked.

Wes shot him a look. “Not out of meanness, or envy, or greed. Nothing like that. Just…”

“Just…?”

“Convenience.”

“I see. Thanks for the clarification.” Mallett raised his coffee mug in a mock toast.

Wes went back to Brynn. “What do you have that the senator perceives is his?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“They could cut out my tongue before I’d rat you out.”

“I know that. But the less you know, the better for you. I don’t want to get you into trouble.” She looked at Mallett with annoyance. “Never mind what Rye said. We don’t want you to steal a car for us. But if you have one we could borrow, it would be a big help.”

“Does it have to do with that sick little girl the deputies mentioned?”

Brynn gave a small nod. “Please don’t ask me for more details than that.”

“Okay. But based on what Wilson and his partner told me, you’re not just dodging them. You’ve got some much rougher characters after you, too.” He pointed his chin at the cuts on Rye’s left hand. “The fight in the garage?”

“Timmy,” Mallett said. “He’s a twisted kid with lots to prove.”

“Meaning dangerous.”

“High-octane dangerous.”

Wes rubbed his hand across his mouth and chin. Focused on Brynn, he said, “Sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fair enough. But please listen to your old man. Sometimes you’ve gotta raise your hands and walk out from cover. Surrender. Giving yourself over to the authorities is never a preferable choice, but sometimes it’s the only smart one.”

“I’m not surrendering.”

“Technically it wouldn’t be a surrender. Wilson only wants you for ‘questioning.’ That doesn’t mean arrest. He gave me his number. Why don’t I call him, get him back over here, y’all sit down together and—”

“No.”

“Brynn—”

“No! I can’t turn myself over to them. Not now, anyway. Not yet.”

“Okay, okay. You want time to think about it. I get that. Say, first thing in the morning.”

She shook her head. “Even if they cleared me, I can’t afford the time it would take to sort out everything. I’m racing the clock.”

“Clock? What clock? There’s a deadline?”

“A crucial one.”

“Then all the more reason for you to stop the clock. Call Wilson now. Maybe if you cut a deal, gave him and Rawlins something on Hunt in exchange for—”

“No.” She scooted to the edge of her seat. “I listened to you, now you listen to me. In spite of what it looks like, I’m doing a good thing. I swear to you on Mother’s grave.”

“But you can’t tell me what it is?”