Dispassionately, she asked if he would like an ice pack for his nose. It was swollen and red and, unless he underwent corrective surgery, would probably be permanently misshapen. But he declined the ice pack. Swelling nose and eyes were the least of his worries as he made his way to the sitting room of the master suite, where private meetings were customarily conducted.

He didn’t have to wait long before Richard strode in, Delores close behind. She was immaculately dressed, perfectly groomed, but, as during any high-stakes situation, the air around her seemed to crackle with her unique brand of energy.

The senator walked straight up to Goliad, his expression demanding. “I gave your disappearing act the benefit of the doubt. I told Delores to relax, that you must be hot on the trail of Dr. O’Neal. But here you are, and no doctor.”

“I located her, but she managed to get away.”

“What about that?” Richard asked of his nose.

“Mallett. With the help of a corrupt cop, I tracked them to a hotel. It was late. Since nothing happened overnight, I saw no reason to disturb you. This morning, I intercepted them as they were leaving.” He described the encounter. “I hoped to talk the doctor out of it without creating any trouble.”

“Obviously she didn’t go for that idea.”

“She saw an opportunity to run, and did.” He told them about getting caught in the elevator. “There was nothing I could do until I closed in on Mallett at the exit. He stunned me. By the time I got outside, all I could see were their taillights. I didn’t get a plate number on the car.”

“‘There was nothing I could do’?” Delores repeated. “I don’t accept that, Goliad.”

“There was nothing I could do without the risk of implicating you, ma’am. Or you, senator.”

“I would have denounced you,” Richard said. “That’s always been our agreement. If you’re caught committing a crime, you’re on your own.”

“That’s still our agreement,” Goliad said. “On any other day, I would have shot both of them up there on the seventh floor. If caught, I would have expected you to disavow any knowledge of it. Today, however, I thought you would rather avoid any and all dealings with the police.”

“He’s right, Richard,” Delores said. “Investigators would have linked him to us like that.” She snapped her fingers. “We can’t have any more policemen showing up at our gate, asking questions, probing. Today of all days, discretion is essential.”

“Discretion?” The senator turned to her. “That’s a curious word to use in light of what’s happening as we speak.”

“That’s foolproof, darling. The inevitable will happen. It has no connection to us, except in recognition of our timely benevolence to the dying child and her family. It’s the best press we could possibly hope for.”

Goliad could feel the tissue around his eyes getting puffier by the minute. His nose was throbbing. The discomfort was distracting, but that’s not why he was having trouble following their thread. “I’m sorry. What am I missing?”

Delores smiled up at him. “While you were chasing after Dr. O’Neal through a hotel, a better plan was hatched and implemented.”

“By who?”

“Of all people,” she said with a light laugh, “Timmy.”

Goliad looked between them to make certain that they were serious, that he’d heard correctly. Last night, they had treated Timmy like a leper they couldn’t wait to get out of their home. Now, they looked smugly pleased with him.

Richard consulted the clock on the mantel. “We should be hearing soon.”

“Hearing what?” Goliad asked.

Delores said, “That our problem has been taken care of.”

10:02 a.m.

The weather around Knoxville was no better than it had been in Atlanta, but Rye made a perfect landing through ponderous rain at a municipal airport located on the fringes of the bedroom community in which the Griffins lived. As at the other airfield, there was little activity. At one end of the lobby, two men were playing cards. Another was asleep in a chair.

An older man was manning the desk. While Rye conferred with him, Brynn called an Uber car to take them to the Griffins’ home.

“He’ll be here in five to seven minutes,” she told Rye when he rejoined her. “You have time for this.” She passed him a cup of coffee.

“Thanks. Did you call the Griffins?”

“I’ve wrestled with it, but decided not to.”

“Still afraid that letting them know will jinx it?”

“Silly, I know.”

“Not silly. Pilots are superstitious, too.” He took a sip of coffee. “Once there, you’ll be ready to roll?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Griffin signed the consent forms when we applied for compassionate use, but I’ll go over everything with them again.” She began explaining the steps she would take but broke off when she noticed that Rye was listening with only half an ear. She was stuck with a sudden realization. “You’re not coming with me.”

He looked down at her half-empty cup. “Finished with that?”

Dumbly she handed it to him. He carried it along with his over to a trash can. When he came back he said, “No, I’m not going with you. But I’ll stick around here until I’ve heard from you that you’re inside the house and that all is good.”

“You have plenty of time to make that flight to Columbus this evening.”

“No rush to make that.” He told her the extent of his last conversation with Dash. She was flabbergasted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed some time to absorb the shock.”

“I could tell when you got back in the car that his call had made you angry.”

“At first,” he admitted. “But I can’t really fault Dash. This could impact his livelihood.”

“You meet with the accident investigators tomorrow?”

“Early. They’re not screwing around. It’s up to them to decide how reckless and irresponsible I was.”

“You weren’t reckless and irresponsible.”

“They may think otherwise.”

“This is serious, then.”

“Serious. Not life-threatening.”

“But it is, Rye. It’s threatening to your life.”

He held her gaze, then shifted it beyond her. “There’s your ride.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Please come, Rye. I want to talk to you some more about this.”

“What good will talking do?”

“All right, we won’t talk about it. Just come. You only have to stay long enough for me to introduce you to Violet and her family. They’ll want to thank you.”

“No thanks necessary.”

“I understand completely that you want to get Jake’s plane back, but surely one hour won’t make a difference.”

“That’s not what you’ve been telling everyone else.”

“I haven’t slept with anyone else!”

Then she was struck with another realization, this one like a slap to the face. She gave a mirthless laugh. “Of course. What’s wrong with me that I didn’t catch on sooner? It’s because we’ve slept together that you are so eager to part ways.”

He didn’t say anything, only assumed a familiar air of impassivity.

“Or could it be that you’re afraid to come face-to-face with a sick little girl? Afraid that you might actually be touched, experience a human emotion, feel something?”

“That’s not why.”

“Then why?”

“This is your show, Brynn. Go be the star of it.”

She covered her heart with her hand. “Oh, that’s very sweet. You’re staying away for my sake.” She dismissed that notion with another sardonic laugh. “Why don’t you admit it? You’re a little glad that you have that meeting tomorrow morning. It gives you a good excuse to cut and run.”

“I just don’t see the point of dragging this out.”

“Nor do I,” she snapped. “I have a life to save, and it isn’t yours. You’re a lost cause. You’re hell-bent on flying straight into the heart of guilt and unhappiness. Until the day it kills you. Well, have at it.” She motioned toward Jake’s plane out on the tarmac. “Don’t let me hold you up any longer.”

10:09 a.m.

She pushed through the door and didn’t look back. She got into the car. It drove away.

Someone behind Rye snuffled. “That went well.”

He turned. One of the pilots who’d been playing cards was standing behind him, grinning. Apparently he’d overheard at least some of what Brynn had said.

“Fuck off.” Rye nudged him aside and ignored the epithets muttered in his wake as he walked toward the pilots’ lounge. His cell phone dinged, indicating he’d gotten a text. It was from Dash. Didn’t give your number, but IMPORTANT u call!!! The message was followed by a phone number.

Rye didn’t feel like talking to anybody, but if one of the federal agents was trying to reach him regarding tomorrow’s meeting, he figured he should start sucking up now. He dialed the number.

“Rawlins.”

“Oh, fabulous,” Rye said. “My day is officially made.”

“Don’t hang up.”

“Name me one good reason.”

“We impressed on your pal Dash how important it was.”

“What did you threaten him with? A shakedown by the FAA and NTSB? Thanks for that, by the way. If they revoke my license, if they even suspend it, I’m going to make your life a misery.”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Probably not.”

“I think you will. It’s about Dr. Lambert.”