Bad to the Bone (15 page)

Sully kept right on walking toward her as she talked. It was a pedestrian version of chicken. To her credit she didn’t move until he put his hands on her shoulders and moved her.

“Is there a problem?” Lincoln asked from a little above them as he came slowly down the stairs.

“The detective was just leaving,” Jessica said as Sully dropped his hands.

“I’ll walk him out.”

“No,” she corrected Lincoln firmly. “I’ll do it.”

“You sure? I’d be happy to help.”

Surprised to find that Lincoln wasn’t overly fond of Sully either, Jessica nodded. For one thing she wanted her gun back, and for another she wanted the questions over with. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’ll do it.”

“Well, if we’re all through banding together against the policeman,” Sully commented sarcastically, “why don’t you show me out, Jessie?”

No one said a word as they crossed the marble foyer and slipped out the door. The contrast of the cool polished stone and the rough brick paving beneath her feet reminded her of dealing with Sully. Things went along so smoothly and then hit a rough patch.

This was probably going to be another rough patch.

Sully didn’t move toward his car. His hands were in his front pockets as he gazed out over the lawn. “How much does Lincoln know?”

“Nothing but what Iris told him. I’m a friend of the family he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet. The way she treats me pretty much supports that story. Next question.”

“I saw your face when you realized the suits had beat you to Phil’s company office. Why the fear? You work for them. So what if your name’s in the book?”

Jessica took a long time to answer. This question was simply another method of figuring out why she wanted the book so badly. He’d just keep asking it, a hundred different ways until he tripped her up, so she cut the misery short.

“I want the book, because I’m retired, and I’d rather not be reactivated. If they don’t have the book, they can’t ask.”

He turned finally and looked at her. “Just say no.”

“You ever tried saying no to the government?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

First Jessica swirled her hair into a knot and let it hang down her back, out of her way. Then she took a deep breath. “They’re really good at making it impossible to say no. I don’t want them to have another shot at me. You understand? I walked away once already.”

“And no one’s ever done that?”

“From Phil’s team?” She laughed bitterly. “No. I imagine the powers-that-be had stress heart attacks when he told them an operative took a hike. That’s one of the reasons I’m here now. I owe him enough to help his little girl.”

Jessica walked onto the lawn, her feet sinking into the thick, supple grass that would have cost a fortune to keep green in the Texas heat if not for the Gulf rains. She wiggled her toes and wished she had pockets in her skirt. She wanted someplace to put her hands because she was afraid they might shake. Afraid if Sully got too close, she might reach for him.

“Why’d he let you go?” Sully asked. He didn’t follow her onto the lawn, instead he stood back and let her have some space. When she faced him, her eyes were shiny. Too shiny.

“Let it drop, Sully. It doesn’t have anything to do with his disappearance. I promise, okay? Next question.”

“You want the book. They want the book. Who else wants it?”

“I imagine anyone who knows Phil is missing. Whoever finds the book or the files will control the
team. Our codes are in the book. Take your pick. Any job. Anywhere. Anytime. Most of them don’t care what they do as long as you have the code.”

“Codes? Are you serious?”

“As death and taxes,” she told him flatly. “That’s how it works. You get a phone call. Phil gives you the code. You get a package of information. You do the job. You call him afterward, give him the code and the status. I don’t imagine anyone would kick if it wasn’t Phil’s voice. Not if the voice had the code. Next question.”

Sully dragged a nagging thought forward. “Isn’t it a tad foolish to keep a book like this?”

“How many phone numbers can you memorize?” She interrupted as he opened his mouth to answer, and added, “When people move a lot. When people get killed and have to be replaced. And unless someone knows what the information is, what are they going to do with the book anyway? Everybody carries day planners, pocket calendars, electronic organizers. It wouldn’t even look odd. Besides that, Phil was surrounded by security!”

“Someone got in to search the office.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jessica asked unhappily, walking back to the pavement.

“Who do you think has it?”

“I don’t know. It could still be on Phil,” Jessica lied. “Or some mugger could have thrown it in the trash. If that’s true then we’re all spinning our wheels for nothing. Next question, and speed it up. I really do need to check on Iris.”

Sully looked up at the moon, his hands on his hips. “I’m not sure I have a next question. All I know is that Harlan is going to love this Hollywood plot.” He
shook his head. “Goldilocks, a missing millionaire, a code book, the CIA, and Mata Hari. It’s a helluva a fairy tale.”

“Are you planning to read Harlan this bedtime story?”

“Not on your life.” He shot a glance at her and started for his car. “I’ve had all the butt chewing I can stand for a day or two.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to give Peter a call at home and see if our friends, the suits, visited them today.” Sully yanked open his door and folded his long frame behind the wheel. “If the suits have taken over the investigation, then they already know everything we know. There’s nothing to do.”

Jessica shut the door, and when the electric window slid down she asked, “And if they haven’t taken over?”

“I don’t know, Jessie.” Sully reached for something in the glove compartment and then handed her the derringer. He looked at her hard as he started the engine. “I don’t know.”

Iris’s room looked different at night. All the rainbow colors disappeared into shades of gray, the purples into black. There wasn’t even a night-light, but Jessica wasn’t surprised. Iris wasn’t the kind of kid who’d need a night-light.

Staring down at her, Jessica lost track of time. She wondered how often Iris’s friends slept over, filling up that empty twin bed. She wondered a lot of things as she stood there. There was something so peaceful about Iris’s face. And finally it was that peacefulness that had Jessica wondering if she’d made the right
choice that night. She was playing God with this child’s father. Maybe she should have told Sully about the call, trusted the police or the FBI to find Phil before they killed him.

No
, she told herself, refusing to second-guess a decision that was already made. She and Iris didn’t need a bunch of tin heroes looking to make promotion. They needed that book. Iris said she’d never seen a book like that.

It wasn’t downstairs. The suits had dragged off a mountain of files to go through, so she had to assume they hadn’t found anything obvious in Phil’s office. Yet. But she seriously doubted they were worried about Phil’s life. The way they played the game it was every man for himself. If they couldn’t find the book, the agency might, just might, begin to worry about getting Phil back alive.

Jessica grasped the corners of the spread and pulled it over Iris, who lay scrunched up in the fetal position with her hands curled under her chin. Covering her up should have been simple, but it wasn’t simple at all. Tucking a child in was like making a promise—a promise that you’d be there when they woke. A promise to watch over them while they slept.

Such a big promise, Jessica thought. One that was made every day by millions of people. She wondered if it still felt so important after you’d done it hundreds and hundreds of times.

Pausing, she tried to remember if she’d ever been tucked in, and she couldn’t. She remembered a cavalcade of nannies turning off the lights, and she remembered lying in bed whispering to Jenny. They’d always shared a room, even though there were plenty of bedrooms in her father’s house. They’d had twin beds, and
nannies who hated trying to keep them from talking all night. An unexpected grin grabbed hold of her as she recalled how many times they’d had to bury their faces in pillows to muffle the laughter. A snort always managed to leak out somehow and bring whatever dragon had been hired to watch them that week.

They hadn’t had a night-light either. Didn’t need one. They had each other. The smile faded as Jessica realized exactly when she’d begun to hate the dark. Glancing over at the empty twin bed, she ordered herself not to cry. Her chin crumpled anyway. It always had a mind of its own.

And once the tears arrived so did the impossible wish. Jessica stared at that bed and wished as hard as she’d ever wished in her life, and when she was through, she was still alone. Jenny was still dead. And she couldn’t forgive herself for being alive. Or for what she had become. Wishing never changed a thing, but she always tried.

“If wishes were wings,” she whispered to the empty bed, in a barely audible voice, “then frogs wouldn’t bump their butts when they hopped.”

Jenny thought that was about the funniest thing their father had ever said to them, and he had come up with some beauts. Never appropriate to the occasion, never remotely wise, but well worth repeating late at night after the lights went out. Uncertainly Jessica touched an index finger to one lock of Iris’s hair.

“Sleep tight,” Jessica breathed and turned away. She’d had about all the pain she could take for one night.

“
Jessie?
”

It was such a tiny word, and it cut her heart open. For a split second, time flew backward, sucking her into a memory she didn’t want and couldn’t stop.

“
Jessie?
”

“
What?
”

“
I don’t like it,” Jenny whispered. “It’s too dark
.”

They huddled beside each other on the bed, which was a dirty mattress thrown on a rusty old frame. Jessie, the older twin by three minutes and twenty-nine seconds, leaned back against the wall and made it unanimous. “I hate the dark
.”

Jenny leaned back, too, pulling her arms inside her favorite T-shirt for warmth. It read—I
SHOT
J. R. G
IVE ME THE MEDAL
. “It’s getting colder. Do you think they’re going to starve us?
”

“
No. Daddy won’t pay them if they hurt us. I think starving counts as hurting us, so they can’t do that. At least I don’t think so. Why would they? All they want is the money. That’s what they said. Just the money
.”

“
Just a couple of days
.”

Unspoken between them was the fear that their abductors had lied. Silence, which had never bothered them before, was suddenly like a third person in the room, a threat to be wiped out
.

“
Jessie?
”

“
What?
”

“
I hope Daddy pays them soon
.”

“
Me too
.”

“
Jessie?
”

“
What?
”

“
Is it going to be okay?
”

“
Yeah. I promise
.”

“Jessie?” Iris called again, raising her voice as she sat up. “Are you okay? Is it my dad?”

“No!” But she didn’t turn around.

That’s when Iris knew she’d been crying. Adults hated to let anyone see them cry, so Iris stayed put and took a couple of deep breaths with her hand on her harmony ball. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t any worse, so nothing else could have happened to her dad.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, kiddo,” Jessica said as she wiped the moisture away from her eyes and swung around.

“That’s okay. I don’t like being alone.”

“Me either.”

“You can sleep in here tonight.”

Smiling at the way Iris so easily offered comfort, Jessica said, “Maybe I will.”

“You would really?”

“Sure.” Jessica sat on the bed, crooking one leg beneath her and letting the other rest on the floor. This close she could see Iris well enough to read her expression. “How are you holding up?”

Iris reached for her hand, which Jessica gave to her without hesitation this time. She knew the drill. After a minute, Iris let go and said, “Better than you.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Jessica’s face. “You got me at a bad time. I’ve just spent the better part of the evening being grilled by our favorite detective. That’d ruin just about anyone’s aura.”

“I like him.” Iris fluffed her pillows up behind her and leaned back. “Why does he make you sad?”

“He doesn’t. The man makes me nuts!”

“So who makes you sad?”

“Who says I’m sad?”

Iris pressed her lips together in a letter-perfect imitation of an old maid schoolteacher who’s just been lied to. “Well, you were crying, and when I hold your
hand you make me want to cry. What would you call it?”

“Okay. So I’m a little sad,” Jessica confessed. “I miss my sister sometimes. She died when she was barely older than you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. That was a long time ago. You remind me of her sometimes. Like when you called me Jessie. She called me that too.”