Rye held his gaze for several beats, then said brusquely, “Take care of yourself.”
Brynn scooted over and got out. Rye shut the car door, tapped the roof twice, and Jake drove away.
The encounter had started and ended with such abruptness, it seemed surreal, but Brynn knew that the parting exchange between the two men had been significant to each of them. Brynn wished she could ask Rye about it, but this wasn’t the time or place.
Police were everywhere.
Fortunately the officers were overwhelmed by the motor and pedestrian traffic and were industriously keeping it under some semblance of control. Trying not to draw attention to themselves, she and Rye joined the taxi line, shuffling forward a few feet at a time.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“You were eager to wash your hands of me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, too.”
“I could still rent a car and drive myself to Knoxville.”
“You could. And watch for Goliad and Timmy to show up in the rearview mirror. Or, because you’d be on the lookout for them, it would probably be a pair of new players. You wouldn’t see them coming before it was too late.”
“The Hunts wouldn’t order my execution, Rye.”
He snickered. “For what’s inside your coat pocket? Get real, Brynn. Young women disappear all the time. You’d be publicly mourned by Lambert, but he would console himself with his influx of cash. Hunt would have his GX-42, and your life would be written off as a small cost of doing business.”
“That’s cynical.”
“That’s life. Bad guys thrive. Good ones die.”
She wondered if he was referring to war buddies. “Who, specifically?”
“Let’s hope not Brady White.”
Heeding Jake’s advice, he wasn’t wearing his jacket, but he patted down one of the pockets and took out his cell phone. He asked Siri for a number and had her call it for him. Brynn listened in.
“Howardville Community Hospital. How may I direct your call?”
“I’m a friend of Brady White’s. I heard he’d taken a downturn. Can you give me an update on his condition, please?”
“I’ll connect you to the OR. You can speak to the charge nurse.”
“He’s in surgery?”
“If…if you’ll hold, sir, I’ll check to see what his status is. Please stay on the line.”
Rye disconnected and said to Brynn, “This morning the lady in the ER wouldn’t tell me anything. This one tried to keep me on the line. Which means they’re tracing the calls.”
“At least we know Brady is still alive.”
“That’s something. That’s huge. But we still have the problem of getting you to Violet.”
“I’m open to ideas.”
“First, we acquire new phones.” With sleight of hand, he silenced the phone he’d just used and dropped it into a nearby trash can. “Sooner or later that number will be attributed to me by the Howardville SO. Which means it will be fed to Wilson and Rawlins, and they’ll share it with the Atlanta PD. If they track it, they’ll be looking for me here, while I’m somewhere else. If I can get this frigging line moving.”
He looked toward the front of it, as though calculating how long it would be until their turn. He was still wearing the ball cap, which kept anyone except Brynn from seeing how his eyes were constantly sweeping the crowded area, looking for a sign that they’d been spotted by someone in uniform.
“What are you thinking of doing?” she asked. “Returning to the hotel?”
He shared his concerns about security cameras getting the license plate number of the Uber car they’d taken from the garage to the hotel. “But I don’t have a choice except to go back. I left my flight bag behind.”
He gauged the length of the line again. “We’re sitting ducks here. What we really need to do is scare up some wheels. We got lucky with Jake, but guardian angels don’t come around that often, and using taxis and hiring cars is risky.
“Do you know anyone who would lend you a car on short notice, late on Thanksgiving night, without asking too many questions? Someone you trust? Fellow doctor? A girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
She shifted her gaze away from him.
“Welllll,” he said. “That was like a puff of cold air on an aching tooth. There’s a man in your life?”
“Past tense.”
She tried to avoid looking at him directly, but he followed the evasive motions of her eyes. “Husband?”
“We weren’t married.”
“But a serious relationship.”
“We lived together for a while.”
“Huh.” His eyes were shadowed by the cap’s bill, but she could sense their intensity on her face. “Your recent kissing ban. Is it because of him?”
With heat behind it, she asked, “If he can help us, does it matter?”
He turned aside and muttered something she thought it was probably just as well she didn’t catch, then came back to her with an indifferent shrug. “When you have a dead stick, you look for somewhere to land, and anyplace will do.”
10:47 p.m.
“So you’re Timmy.”
The former gang member stood accused before a very harsh judge. Richard Hunt looked at him with scorn.
Delores had to agree that Timmy did make for a sorry sight, especially standing beside Goliad, who, as usual, looked handsome and was in total command of himself. Timmy was listing to his left, and his face bore gruesome evidence of the beating he’d received from Rye Mallett.
“This first job was an audition of sorts,” Richard said. “I’m not impressed by your performance so far. People who work for me in this specialized capacity do so under the radar. Stealthily. Do you even know what that word means? It means they don’t commit reckless and stupid acts that bring hillbilly deputies to my home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Goliad stepped forward. “Timmy acted impulsively, sir, but in self-defense.”
Timmy jerked his head around and practically snarled at Goliad, “And you just stood there like a stump and let him have at me!”
“Because I’m too smart to get in the way of a knife,” Goliad returned calmly.
Delores stepped in. “Gentlemen, this finger pointing is getting us nowhere, and it’s taking up precious time that we do not have. The only thing I really want to hear is that you have located Dr. O’Neal.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but no, we haven’t,” Goliad said.
Richard cursed under his breath.
Head down, arms folded, Delores made a circuit of the room, then stopped in front of Timmy. “Will you excuse us, please?”
He cocked his head warily, his ears practically twitching like an animal sensing a predator. “What for?”
“Because I believe you need an Advil, and the housekeeper has some in the kitchen.” Delores gave him her sweetest smile. “Goliad will be along in a moment.”
Timmy’s eyes narrowed. He knew he was being dismissed, but he didn’t have much choice except to go quietly. He was already on quicksand with Richard.
“Which way?”
She motioned him through the double doorway. “Stay left. You can’t miss it.”
He gave Goliad a resentful glance over his shoulder, but he went as told. Delores pulled the doors closed behind him.
Richard asked Goliad, “How much does he know about this situation?”
“Because doctors are involved, he guessed that the contents of the box were medical-related. But he doesn’t know any more than that.”
“Keep it that way,” Richard said. “You’re the only person in our entire organization that we’ve entrusted with the seriousness of the situation. We must get that drug from Dr. O’Neal.”
“I understand.”
“I think we should pull Timmy off the detail,” Richard continued. “For the time being, anyway. He’s a loose cannon. If his particular talents are called for later, we know where to find him.”
“I agree,” Delores said without hesitation. “Knife fights? Jesus. I don’t care how provoking that pilot was.” To Goliad she said, “Make it sound like we’re worried about his injuries. Tell him to take the rest of the night off and go to bed. You’ll call him tomorrow to see if he’s fit to come back to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”