Tailspin Page 72
Following her dumbfounding monologue, Nate braced himself for Richard’s reaction, one with an impact equal to an earthquake, a lightning strike, another big bang. Therefore, it astounded him when a smile spread slowly across the senator’s face.
When he spoke, his voice didn’t rumble with righteous wrath. Rather, it was soft and laced with sympathy. “How na?ve of you, Delores. Did you honestly think that I didn’t know what you had planned? If Dr. O’Neal hadn’t come in when she did and taken that vial from you, I would have. I knew what you were about.” He cast a glance toward Timmy. “Did you actually believe that I would allow you to put this urban vulture on the payroll without thoroughly vetting him myself?”
She laughed. “You were oblivious.”
“If it makes you feel better to think that,” he said with a shrug. “Every kiss, caress, tear, avowal of how much you loved me, all lies.”
“You didn’t know! You couldn’t have known.”
“You’re not nearly as good at deception as you think you are. As it turns out, I’m far superior.”
She tossed her hair again. “What difference does it make now who was the better deceiver? You can’t tell anyone about this or you incriminate yourself, just like that redneck pilot said. I have the video that proves your compliance in our little scheme. You’re not going to show it to anyone. Not when you’re so outspoken on imposing stiffer FDA regulations. Exposing this scandal would irreparably cripple your crusade.
“So,” she said, spreading her arms at her sides, “we’ll put this behind us. Our marriage will go on as before. In due time, I’m sure Nate can procure another dose of the GX-42.”
Richard looked at her with a sympathetic smile. “Impossible, darling.”
“With enough money, anything is possible.”
“It has nothing to do with money. We won’t go on as before because you’ll be dead, killed by the man who loved you.”
“You would never kill me.”
“True. But he will.”
He nodded toward the doors, which had been silently pulled open by Goliad. He stood with a pistol in hand.
Timmy gaped at him stupidly. “You’re dead.”
Goliad fired a straight shot through the center of Timmy’s forehead. He never felt it.
Delores looked at Goliad and exhaled his name in appeal.
“You have no honor.” The bullet went through her heart. She dropped.
Goliad lowered his arm. The pistol fell from his hand to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said to Richard.
The obsidian eyes that, to Nate, had always looked disturbingly lifeless did actually blink out an instant before his body collapsed. The hilt of a knife was sticking up out of his back.
5:50 p.m.
Heedless of the rain and the absence of headlights, Rye never took his foot off the accelerator between the mansion and the runway, steering with one hand, holding his cell phone to his ear with the other. He filed another flight plan. “Two souls on board.” He completed the call just as they reached the end of the landing strip.
Sheets of rain slashed against the SUV. He glanced over at Brynn. “Weather’s not ideal, but we’ll punch through it at about eight thousand feet. You okay with that?”
“Yes, just get me there. Can we make it?”
“We’ll make it.”
“In time?”
“We’ll make it,” he repeated with emphasis. “But better we do this in the dark until right before takeoff. Can you see your way to the plane?”
She could barely make out its shape in the darkness. “I’ll find it.”
“You go first,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”
She flipped up her hood, but it did her little good against the deluge. She was out of breath and shivering with cold by the time she reached the right side of the craft. Rye caught up with her there.
He went first, opened the door on the copilot’s side and got in, then heaved himself into the pilot’s seat. Brynn climbed in behind him. He reached across her to make sure the door was locked. “Buckle up.”
He put on his headset and started the engine. His hands seemed to do a dozen things at once, moving competently and assuredly. He used only the plane’s taxi light as he steered it to the far end of the runway and turned it around.
“I have clearance,” he said and looked over at Brynn. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He flipped on the plane’s lights, used the PTT button to light the runway, then gave the plane the throttle.
A pair of headlights flashed on at the far end of the runway. The vehicle came speeding straight toward them. Rye stamped on the plane’s brakes, and, simultaneous to that, his cell phone rang. The vehicle kept coming and didn’t stop until it was twenty yards from the nose of the plane.
Swearing liberally, Rye whipped off his headset and answered his phone. “Rawlins, is that you?”
“Shut her down.”
“Not a fucking chance. Get out of my way.”
“You tampered with evidence and fled the scene of three homicides.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The bloodbath at the mansion.”
“Know nothing about a bloodbath.”
“Lambert called in a 911. Those two deputies who arrested you were the first responders. Three dead. Timmy, Mrs. Hunt, Goliad.”
“Jesus.” He looked across at Brynn, who had overheard and appeared as stunned as he.
“Lambert told them you two were there. They called us. We had a hunch where you had run off to and volunteered to stop you. I repeat. Shut her down.”
“Nobody was dead when we left. That we knew of.”
“Good, you can tell the detectives that.”
“When I get back.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I’m getting Brynn to Tennessee. Tonight. Now.”
“You’re going to play chicken with me on this runway?”
“It’s not a game to me. I’m flying this drug to a dying kid.”
“I get that. But if you go, you’ll be digging yourself into real deep shit.”
“Yeah? Well, I’ve got a propeller at about the level of your thick skull. You decide who’s in deeper shit here. You or me?”
Brynn heard Wilson saying something in the background. Rawlins cursed.
“There’s not time to debate this, guys,” Rye said. “That little girl is lost if we don’t go now. Make yourselves useful. Have a police escort meet us. Brynn will text you the name of the airport.”
“Can’t let you go.”
“Hell you can’t! Say you missed us. I won’t be gone long. Soon as I drop Brynn off, I’ll fly right back. I’ll surrender myself. Undergo interrogation. Spend the night in lockup. Take a lie detector test. But for right now, get the hell out of the way.”
“How do we know you’ll be back?”
“I give you my word.”
“And I’m giving you the finger,” Rawlins shouted into the phone.
Rye sighed. “Figured that if you caught up to me, you’d be a prick, so I left something for you in the driver’s seat of that SUV. It’s your guarantee that I’ll be back.”
“What is it?”
“My pilot’s license.”
Violet
7:37 p.m.
When I saw the blue-and-white lights flashing outside my window, I thought it must be an ambulance coming to take me to the hospital because my special day with Elsa and the mayor had tired me out.
Honestly, I wish I could have watched Frozen on my new TV with Cy, and my brothers, and Mom and Dad. The mayor’s breath wasn’t nice, and Elsa didn’t sing as good as the one in the movie. But she was nice and didn’t talk about cancer and how adorable I am. If I have another special day, I hope they bring Taylor Swift or Alicia Keys.
After the mayor and Elsa left, and all the TV people in the yard went home, I didn’t feel good.
Mostly I was sad over Dr. O’Neal leaving without even saying hi.
There’s another nurse now instead of Jill. She doesn’t have braids or shoes with lights on them.
Daddy fed my brothers pizza and sent them to their room to watch a movie. He and Mom keep checking on me. By now, I can tell when they’re just plain worried, and when they’re really worried. They’re really worried.
I heard Mom say to Daddy, “I was afraid this would happen. But Senator and Mrs. Hunt were so generous and kind to do it.”
“How could you say no?”
“I couldn’t, but…”
That’s all I heard. I think they went into the kitchen and called an ambulance.
But now I see that the lights aren’t on an ambulance after all. It’s two policemen on motorcycles and a police car. Have they come to take us back to the airplane with the couch in it? Will we fly back to Atlanta tonight?
I hope not, because I’m really tired. And I want to sleep in my room with Cy another night. I don’t want to cry. When I cry it makes everybody feel bad.
Wait. Dr. O’Neal is getting out of the back seat of the police car! She came back!
The tall man in the old leather jacket came back with her. But not Timmy and not Dr. Lambert, and I’m glad.
Dr. O’Neal and the man are jogging up the walk. Mom and Daddy have gone out to meet them. Mom is hugging Dr. O’Neal. Daddy shakes hands with the tall man.
I think he must be a good friend of Dr. O’Neal’s, because they get into each other’s personal space a lot, but they never say excuse me.