"Most of it, but not all." He felt her fingers playing over his bicep. He instantly flexed the muscle. A man, he thought, he was just a man who wanted his woman to know he was strong. He nearly laughed aloud at himself.
"What was the 'not all'?"
"You. He told me about you and your father and Dil-lon."
"Brammer and my father go way back. I wish you could have known my old man. He was a kick, Sally.
I wish he hadn't died-just last year. It was a heart attack, all of a sudden, so he didn't suffer-but still, he was only sixty-three. He'd make you so mad you wanted to punch his lights out and then in the next second you'd be clutching your stomach, you'd be laughing so hard."
"A lot like you. That's what Mr. Brammer said."
She was caressing his bicep again. He flexed again. A man was a man. He guessed there was just no getting away from it.
"He also said that you liked to play a lone hand but that he always knew what you were doing even if you would swear he didn't know a thing."
"I wouldn't doubt it, that old con man. He's got moles everywhere."
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"Maybe now he's got a mole who's living with you."
"That's okay," Quinlan said and kissed her.
She was soft and giving, but she wasn't with him, not yet, and he couldn't blame her at all for that. He said against her warm mouth, "There's only your father left, Sally. We'll get him. He won't get away.
There'll be a huge scandal, a big trial. Can you deal with that?"
"Yes," she said, her voice suddenly very cold and hard. "I can't wait, actually. I want to face him down. I want to tell the world how he beat his wife. I want to tell the world what he did to me. James?"
"Yeah?"
"Was there another woman in my father's life? Someone he was going to leave the country with?"
"Not that we know of, but that's a good thought. We'll have to keep an eye on it. It's early, very early.
As I said, we have people going through every scrap of paper in your father's house and at his office.
Everything will be scrutinized.
"You ain't seen scrutiny until you've seen the FBI do it. As for our Norman Lipsy, the plastic surgeon, he won't be going anywhere even with the best lawyers he can buy. He'll be questioned by agents until at least next Wednesday. It doesn't mean a thing that he hasn't talked yet. He will. Already they've found more than enough evidence to convict him on innumerable counts-kidnapping, collusion, conspiracy, that's just the beginning. Now, Sally, you're still withdrawn from me. What is it? What's going on?"
"James, what if I was wrong? What if I was still drugged up so that I saw things that weren't really there?
What if it wasn't my father running out those French doors? What if it was someone else? What if I didn't see anybody? What if I did shoot him and all the rest-well, it's games being played in my mind."
"Nah," he said and kissed her again. "Not in a million years. If there's one thing I know, it's crazy. You aren't crazy. I'll bet you don't even get PMS."
She hit his arm-he flexed the muscle-and she giggled.
"Now that's a wonderful sound. Just forget all that crazy stuff, Sally. You saw your father. There's not one single doubt in my mind or in Brammer's mind or in Dillon's or, I'll bet, in Ms. Lilly's, when we tell her.
"Your father must have stopped, seen you throw that prized pistol of his away and gone back to get it.
That in itself is convincing, don't you see? If he didn't go back for the gun, then where is it? When we find him I'll bet you a Mexican meal at the Cantina that he's got that Roth-Steyr."
She leaned up and kissed his mouth. “Goodness, I hope so. You were so sure I'd remember."
"I prayed harder than I did when I was seventeen and afraid Melinda Herndon might be pregnant."
"I'm so glad I didn't shoot him, regardless of the fact that I would have liked to. I wonder where he is."
"We'll find him. His passport's gone. The agents had Noelle go through his safe at home and his safety-deposit boxes. Chances are he took off to either the Grand Caymans or Switzerland-they found some bankbooks from both places. We'll get him. It won't take long."
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She was quiet, utterly still against him. He liked to feel her push against him, he liked her touching him. He was still on an adrenaline high, but she had to be exhausted. She'd been through quite an experience. He sighed. He settled for a light kiss on her mouth. "You ready to sleep now?”
"I have this feeling, James," she said slowly, her breath warm against his neck. "It's weird and I can't explain it, but I just don't think he's gone anywhere. That is, I don't think he's left the country. He's here, somewhere. I just can't imagine where. We don't have a beach house or a mountain cabin that I know of."
"That's interesting. We'll ask Noelle tomorrow. Now come on, Sally, I'm supposed to be the one with the famous intuition, the hyper gut instinct. You trying to show me up?"
Quinlan shifted his weight. He was still wearing his pants and shirt. He wished he wasn't wearing anything.
Sally was in one of her new nightgowns, a cotton thing that came nearly up to her chin and went down to her ankles. He wished she wasn't wearing anything either. He sighed and kissed her right ear.
He wished all the adrenaline in his body would clear out. He was high and horny. To distract himself, he said, "I forgot to tell you. I got a call from David Mountebank-you remember the sheriff, don't you?"
"He's very nice. He took care of you." He felt her fingertips lightly touch where the stitches had been in his head. "Hardly even a ridge now."
"Yes, well, he still hasn't got a clue about the two murders, and yes, Doc Spiver was murdered, no doubt about it. He wants FBI help, officially, and he'll get it since we're talking about interstate shenanigans.
He's convinced everybody that the older couple-Harve and Marge Jensen-were killed around there and that all the other missing folks are linked together as well. There'll be agents up from the Portland office, and I'll be there from the Washington office. They'll crawl all over that damned town."
She was kissing his neck, her fingers lightly tugging on his chest hair. He said slowly, "I'm going, Sally.
And yes, Brammer knows I'm going. He thinks it's a good idea. He wants me to talk to Amabel. We all want to know how she fits into all this. And, believe me, she's got to fit in somewhere. I think you should consider coming with me, Sally."
He had weighed the danger of her being in that small little town on the Oregon coast against the danger of her remaining here, without him, her father still at large. No, he wanted her with him. It was the only way he could protect her. There'd be enough agents hanging around The Cove, no one would have a chance of hurting her.
"How could she be involved, James? She loves me, doesn't she? She took me in. She-"
"Don't turn blind on me now. She's involved. When she told David and me how you would probably run because you were scared, well, then 1 was as sure as I could be that she was involved. How deeply, we'll find out."
"I've got my mother back now. I'd sure like to have Aunt Amabel, too. I'm praying really hard that she isn't involved."
"Not only do you have your mama back, you've got me, and you'll never lose me, I swear it. And you'll have all my family. They're obnoxious, loving, pains in the butt, all in all a great family. Now, if Amabel is somehow involved with all this, we'll deal with it, you and I together."
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He felt her palm slide down his chest, felt her fingers slip inside his shirt to caress him. He nearly bowed off the bed. No, she was exhausted, he couldn't let her do this, not now, not tonight.
He'd made up his mind. No way was he going to rush her on this. He shook his head and said, "Sally, are you certain?"