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Riptide

Page 94

   


“The FBI are coming soon.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, both Thomas and I will be there.”
She smiled at him. “That’s nice, Adam, but unnecessary. I’m not a child or helpless, you know. And I do know Mr. Cobb, and poor Mr. Hawley, who’s got hemorrhoids.”
He grinned up at her. “Nope, it’s Cobb with the hemorrhoids. Now, you were helpless, don’t try to rewrite the past, and I don’t care what you say, I’ll be there.”
“I should probably go dig out my Coonan and buff it.”
“I’d just as soon never see that pistol anywhere near you again.”
“Scared you but good, didn’t I?”
Thomas appeared in the kitchen doorway, frowning. “This is odd, but a man named Tyler McBride called Gaylan Woodhouse’s office with the message that you, Becca, were to call him immediately. Nothing more, just that instruction.”
“I don’t understand,” Becca said, “but of course I’ll call him. What’s going on?”
Adam was on his feet in an instant. “I don’t like this. Why would McBride call the director of the CIA?”
“I’ll find out, Adam. He’s probably really worried and wants to make sure I’m okay.”
Adam said, “I don’t want you to call Tyler McBride. I don’t want him anywhere near you. I’ll call him, find out what the hell he wants. If he wants reassurance, I’ll give it to him.”
“Look, Adam, you told me he was really scared for me. He just wants to hear my voice. I’m not going to tell him where I am. Now, I’m calling him. Let it go.”
“Why don’t you two stop bickering?” Thomas said. “Call the man, Becca. If something’s wrong, Adam, she’ll tell us.”
“I still don’t like it. Another thing: I’ve been thinking that maybe you would be safer at my house. At least you could stay there some of the time.”
Her left eyebrow went up. “Where do you live, Mr. Carruthers?”
“About three miles down the road.”
She stared at him. “Then why are you staying here? Why aren’t you going home at all?”
“I’m needed here,” he said, studiously rubbing the barrel of his Delta Elite to an even higher shine. “Besides, I do go home. Where do you think I get clean clothes?”
“Get over it, Adam,” she said, and went to get her small address book.
“Use my private line,” Thomas said. “It’s untraceable. Adam, your gun looks good.”
“You’ll like my house,” Adam called after her. “It’s a showcase, it’s the prettiest place you’ve ever seen. Plants don’t like me, but everything else does. I have a housekeeper come in twice a week and she even makes me casseroles.”
Becca turned to face him. “What kind?”
“Tuna, ham and sweet potato, whatever. Do you like casseroles?”
“You bet,” she said.
He heard her laugh as she walked away.
He wanted to hear what she said to Tyler McBride, he really did, but he didn’t move. Neither did Thomas, who stood there leaning against the refrigerator, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m giving her privacy,” Adam said. “It’s tough.”
“Yeah, and you want her to think about your house, don’t you?”
“It’s a very nice house—an old Georgian brick two-story, lovely yard that I pay a big chunk to keep looking good. Remember I told you how my mom talked me into buying the property some four years before, told me it was a good investment. She was right.”
Thomas said, “Parents usually are.”
Adam grunted and looked at his reflection in the gun barrel. “McBride wants her, that’s why he’s called. He wants her to know that he’s still laying claim. Damn, I don’t trust him, Thomas. He’ll use Sam if he has to. He can’t have her.”
Thomas said, grinning now, “I can see the scowl on your face in the barrel of the gun. No, more than a scowl.”
Adam grunted. “How about seriously pissed off?”
What was she saying to Tyler McBride? Worse, what was he saying to her?
24
In her father’s study, the door closed, Becca was leaning on the big mahogany desk, so pale, so off balance that she felt transparent. She knew that if she looked in a mirror, she wouldn’t see anything at all. “No, Tyler,” she said again. “I can’t believe this.”
“No, Becca, it’s happened. Sam is gone. Gone from his bed when I looked in on him this morning. There was this note pinned to his blanket that said I had to call you, that I could get to you by calling the office of the CIA director. So I did. And now you’ve called.”