Richard said, “Now to the other matter. Where the hell is Dr. O’Neal?”
Goliad braced himself before answering. “We’ve looked in all the logical places. Her office. The areas of the hospital where she works. Her house. It’s locked up tight. We tried tracing her phone. No luck this time. I’m sure she—more likely Mallett—saw to that.”
“Nate gave you a list of her close acquaintances.”
“Reached about half of them,” Goliad said. “Told them I’d found her phone and was calling her contacts in an attempt to return it. I asked if she had a getaway, lake house, someplace where she might be spending the holiday. No to all that. Only one car is registered to her, and we know where it is.”
“Anything on the father?”
“Long list of O’Neals with criminal records. I’ve got people trying to make a connection, but that will take some time.”
“I could kick Nate for not getting his name out of those deputies,” Delores said.
Shortly before Goliad and Timmy had arrived, Nate had slunk out, leaving the task of finding his wayward colleague to them. Not that his contributions had been of much help, and his unsolicited editorial comments had begun to grate on Delores.
“If we asked the deputies for her father’s name now, it would raise red flags,” Richard said. “Besides, I doubt she’ll remain stationary. She’ll be trying to get to the girl.”
“I’ve got hackers checking airlines and car rental companies,” Goliad said. “Neither her name nor Mallett’s has shown up anywhere. And,” he said, drawing a breath, “there’s another complication.”
“Great. Just what we need,” Delores remarked.
Goliad looked at her apologetically before explaining. “I’ve got snitches all over the city with their ears to the ground. One picked up on an Atlanta PD officer asking around for them at a bar out near the airport where pilots of Mallett’s caliber hang out.”
“Atlanta PD?” Delores asked.
“Thanks to Timmy and the knife fight,” Richard said.
“Probably,” Goliad replied somberly. “Last thing we want is for me and police to overlap in our pursuit of Dr. O’Neal. Everybody knows who I work for. Something happens to her, it could come back to you.”
Richard dragged his hands down his face. “So where does this leave us?”
“I continue looking, but keep it discreet. Hope something turns up.”
“With absolutely no guarantee that anything will before time runs out.”
Goliad raised his hands at his sides in a gesture of helplessness. “Until something breaks, I don’t know what else to do, sir.”
Delores had been making aimless circuits around the room but following every word of the discussion. She said, “We can’t depend on something breaking. Since it appears that Dr. O’Neal has gone undercover, we must do something to bring her out.”
“Like what?” Richard asked.
“I don’t know. But someone had better arrive at an idea. And soon.” Turning to Goliad, she said, “Take Timmy to whatever rock he sleeps under, then come right back. I want you here if you get a bite from any of the hooks you’ve baited. Richard and I are dead on our feet. We’re going to sleep for a while. You can stretch out on the sofa in the den.”
“I won’t be long.” Goliad headed for the door.
Delores fell into step behind him and said to Richard, “I’ll see them on their way. Would you like something from the kitchen?”
“I’m fine.”
She and Goliad left the room together. Timmy was nowhere in sight. She drew Goliad to a stop. “I’m glad we have a moment alone,” she whispered. “There’s something you don’t know that I feel you should.”
She told him about Richard’s gaffe of mentioning bloodshed to the deputies. “We weren’t supposed to know anything about that fight. In fact, we both pretended to be shocked when they told us about it. Maybe they didn’t catch the slip.”
Goliad frowned. “Safer to assume that they did and are now wondering why you lied to them.”
She slumped. “That’s my greatest worry. That’s why I needed to tell you.” Looking contrite, she added, “We dump everything on you, and rely on you far too much.”
“Not at all.”
“No, we do. I can tell that you’re as exhausted as we are, but you’re so dedicated. We don’t take your loyalty for granted, although I’m afraid there are times when you might think we do. The truth is, I don’t know what we would do without you, Goliad.”
Lightly, she rested her hand on the placket of his shirt. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” Stepping closer, she said, “I’m not entirely trustful of Timmy. Honestly, I’m a little afraid of him. I won’t go to sleep until I know you’re back and under our roof.”
“I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
“Are you sure you’ll be comfortable enough on the sofa?”
He swallowed audibly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good night, Goliad.”
“Good night.”
She slid her hand off his shirtfront and turned away, smiling to herself. Fearing banishment and permanent separation from her, he would never act on his desire. He would rather suffer in agonizing silence and be able to remain near her and in sight of her than do something impulsive that would cause his severance.
He would never touch her, but every once in a while, Delores reminded him of just how much he wanted to.
Chapter 25
11:11 p.m.
Rawlins pulled the SUV to the curb and cut the engine. Neither he nor Wilson moved as they regarded the dwelling. The street was dark and silent; the only sounds were the ticks of the motor as it cooled. No interior lights were on that they could see. There was a porch light, but it wasn’t on, either.
“What do you think?” Wilson asked.
“Won’t know until we check it out.”
“I’m so tired, you may have to goose me to get me out of this seat.”
Rawlins snorted. “I’ll pass.”
He opened the driver’s door and alighted. Wilson groaned as he pushed open his door and got out. Together they went up the walk to the sheltered front door. Rawlins pressed the bell, and they heard it chime.
He rang it twice more before a light came on inside, then the overhead porch light nearly blinded them when it was switched on. Door locks were unfastened, and then the door was pulled open.
Standing barefoot behind the screen door, wearing a white t-shirt and red flannel pajama bottoms with penguins on them, was Wes O’Neal. He said, “I didn’t do it.”
Wilson smiled. “Been a long time, Wes.”
“I’ve lost track. Where’d all your hair go to?”
He asked it with such good humor, Wilson didn’t take umbrage. “How are you getting on these days?”
“Up till two minutes ago, I was sleeping with a clear conscience. Can’t imagine what brought you all the way down here from Howardville. I haven’t been up there in a coon’s age. Whatever’s missing, I didn’t take it. I’ve gone straight.”
“Mind if we come in?”
“Why?”
“If you’ve gone straight, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Wes seemed to debate it, then flipped up the hook lock on the screen door. Its hinges squeaked when he pushed it open. Turning his back to them, he went ahead to switch on a lamp.
The living area was separated from the galley kitchen by a Formica-topped bar with one barstool. The small, round dining table had two mismatched chairs. On the table was a chessboard, a game seemingly in progress. Taking up most of the floor space was a recliner, an ugly maroon leather monstrosity.
“I don’t have much company, so seating is limited,” Wes said, claiming the recliner for himself.
“Nice chair,” Wilson remarked.
“I didn’t steal it.”
“You’ve gone straight.”
“That’s not the reason. I couldn’t carry the damn thing.” Wes rubbed his hands up and down the padded arms. “I got it at a yard sale. Paid cash. I have a job. Working nine to five at the Walmart.”
“Stocking shelves?” Wilson asked.
“Spotting shoplifters.”
Rawlins guffawed. “The fox guarding the chicken coop.”