The housekeeper wheeled in a serving cart. The next few minutes were spent pouring and serving everyone’s coffee to their liking.

When the housekeeper left, Delores picked up the conversation. “We sent Goliad up to Howardville to ensure that Dr. O’Neal would make it back to Atlanta safely. She was on an important errand for us.”

“Yes, the doctor explained the errand, but didn’t tell us on whose behalf it was.”

“But I wouldn’t, would I?” Nate asked, at his most snobbish. “Patient confidentiality.”

Not put off, Rawlins said to him, “Concerned as you are over that patient, I thought you’d be at the lab running tests on those time-sensitive blood samples, trying to match…what was it? Cell markers?”

“I dropped the samples at the lab on my way here. I wouldn’t want to impose a tedious explanation of the matching process on Senator and Mrs. Hunt.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that consideration,” Rawlins said. “You ever locate Dr. O’Neal?”

“No. I’m almost glad I haven’t. I’m very upset with her. Terribly disappointed.”

“For not overseeing the tests with you?”

“Among other things,” Nate replied and gave a delicate shudder.

Richard set his cup and saucer on the small table at his elbow. “Nate has told us about Dr. O’Neal’s seeming infatuation with the pilot and their ill-timed interlude this morning.”

Wilson said, “They left the rendezvous spot with your Goliad and another man.”

“Who would that be?” Pretending ignorance, Delores looked to Richard for clarification.

“A new man Goliad has taken under wing to train,” he said to the deputies. “I believe his name is Timmy. I don’t know his last name.”

She waved her hand as though those details didn’t matter. “This is so out of character for Dr. O’Neal. Ordinarily she’s so stable, entirely devoted to treating that sweet little girl, and in pursuit of every possible avenue for her survival.”

The two deputies looked at each other. Wilson came back to Delores. “Sweet little girl?”

“Dr. O’Neal and Nate’s patient.” When the two officers gave Delores blank stares, she looked at Nate with perplexity and a trace of asperity. “Even without divulging Violet’s name, I was under the impression you had explained everything to these gentlemen.”

Delores could have slapped him. He just sat there like a ventriloquist’s dummy, his mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.

Fortunately, neither of the deputies was paying attention to him. They were looking at her and Richard. Wilson coughed behind his fist. “Excuse us, senator, Mrs. Hunt. We had surmised that these blood samples were being tested for one of you.”

“Oh,” she said on an exhalation. “No. Richard and I are blessed with good health.” She let her smile falter. “Sadly, not so for Violet. I learned of her situation through one of the foundations that Richard and I support. We wanted to do something meaningful for her and her family.”

“Why don’t we play them the DVR?” Richard suggested. “That will explain things.”

“We had just as well make some use of it.” Her smile to the deputies was modestly apologetic. “We wanted to keep this between us and the girl’s family, but the media got wind of it. There’s no longer a need to protect her identity.”

Richard used an iPad on the end table to turn on the flat-screen fitted into a bookcase. The DVR had been paused at the place in the newscast where the story of Violet began.

The deputies watched with interest, and, when Richard paused the recording on their private jet disappearing into the clouds, the two looked justifiably embarrassed. Wilson said, “Very generous gesture.”

“Thank you. She’s had it rough and deserves some happy days.” Richard came to his feet. “If that’s all, Del and I have had a long day, too.”

Both deputies stood up. Wilson threaded his hat through his fingers. “That’s not quite all, senator.”

With visible but contained impatience, Richard divided a look between the two.

Rawlins said, “We’ve still got a man up in Howardville who was attacked last night.” Turning to Nate, he said, “We’d like to ask Dr. O’Neal a few more questions about what happened out there at the airport.”

Nate said, “Granted, Brynn has been indiscreet today, but she isn’t the sort to knock a man unconscious.”

“But he’s the sort.”

“Mallett?”

Rawlins nodded.

“Then I suggest you look for him,” Nate said. “We don’t even know that he’s still in Atlanta, or that they’re together.”

Delores watched the deputies for their reactions to Nate’s lie.

Rawlins said, “Oh, they’re together, Dr. Lambert. After she abandoned you, things got interesting in that parking garage.” He turned to Delores. “First, Mallett had a run-in with your Mercedes-driving friend and his second.”

“My goodness,” she said on a shocked gasp. “Richard, did you know about this?”

“Of course not.”

Rawlins continued. “After the encounter with Mallett, security cameras show Goliad and the other guy driving out in the Mercedes. Also shows Mallett and Dr. O’Neal hooking up several minutes later in her parking space and leaving together on foot.”

“It seems that this Mallett is at the center of all the bloodshed,” Richard said.

“I shudder to think of him with Dr. O’Neal,” Delores said. “Do you think she’s in danger? He obviously has a violent bent.”

Nate chimed in. “There’s no doubt in my mind that he injured that man at the airfield.”

“Maybe,” Rawlins said. “We can’t figure a motive, though. And Dr. O’Neal may be moonstruck, but I can’t see her covering for Mallett for something as serious as an assault.”

“Has the poor victim described his attacker?” Delores asked.

“He was struck from behind.”

“What a pity. I hope he recovers soon.”

Nobody responded to that. Then Wilson said, “Well, we’ve taken up enough of your time. Please notify us if you see or hear from either of them.”

There were handshakes all around and promises to share information should any become available. Delores herself walked the officers to the door and saw them out, then returned to the sitting room, went straight to the bar, and poured a drink.

“Just when we need to be our most surreptitious, Brynn has got these yokels nipping at our heels,” Nate groused. “I could kill her.”

“That’s certainly an option,” Richard said. “But we have to find her first. You know her better than we do. You see her almost every day. Have you thought of where she might have gone? What resources she has at her disposal? A second home? A second car? A roadmap to Violet Griffin’s house in Tennessee?”

Compared to the near shout on which he’d ended, Delores’s tone was soft and perfectly controlled. “You made a blunder, darling.”

“A colossal one,” Richard said. “When we trusted Dr. O’Neal.”

“When you mentioned bloodshed.”

Richard’s gaze snapped to hers.

“The deputies hadn’t said anything about blood. How would we know there had been bloodshed unless we knew about his knife fight with Timmy?”

9:37 p.m.

Wilson and Rawlins climbed into the SUV. They waited until they were clear of the gate and underway before Wilson looked over at Rawlins. In unison, they said, “They’re lying.”

Chapter 23

9:41 p.m.

The taxi driver hadn’t been exaggerating about the amount of traffic on the interstate highways. It took longer to get to where they were going than Rye had anticipated, and when he assisted Brynn from the back seat, she looked at him as though he had lost his mind.

The neighborhood was dicey, bordering on sinister. Streetlights had either burned out or been shot out. The few enterprises still in operation were closed for the night. Most had metal grills protecting their windows and doors from break-ins. The street was shuttered, dark, and best avoided.

But since Rye didn’t like either their taxi driver’s beady eyes or his attitude, he asked him to drop them two blocks shy of their destination. Grudgingly Rye tipped him the promised extra twenty, for which he received no thanks. He waited until the taxi’s taillights disappeared around a corner, then drew Brynn into the recessed entrance of an abandoned store.

“You’re out of luck. The place is shut down.” She brought his attention to the faded “For Sale” sign taped to the door. “Has been for some time now, looks like.”

“This isn’t where we’re going. I didn’t want the cabbie to know our final destination.”

“I don’t know our final destination.”

“Remember that beach bar you and your friends went to? I told you there was a hangout like it near every airfield in the world.”

“We’re going to such a place?”

“Couple of blocks from here. Rough neighborhood. Rough and rowdy bar.”

“Lots of pornography.”

“You’ll see. But if you want to fly to Tennessee, you’ve got to go where the flyers are.”

“There’s an international airport within shouting distance. It has lots of airplanes and pilots to fly them.”

“It also has passenger manifests, TSA checkpoints, and ID requirements. If anyone having, say, congressional authority, checks to see if you’re on a flight—”