Chapter 83
CHAPTER
LATER THAT NIGHT NASH PERCHED on his bed at the Temple estate and stared down at the email he’d received from Shock on his phone.
We was watching all of you on the cameras.
When the lady went for the cabinet I triggered the “sirens” I got up in the trees around the place.
And sorry about the damn tattoo binders.
When you alerted us that they were heading our way we had to really hustle to clean up the space.
I thought Byron had gotten them and he thought I had taken care of it.
He messaged Shock back. It worked great. And thanks.
Nash heard a noise out in the hall. He went to his door and opened it just a crack.
Lynn Ryder was gliding down the corridor. She stopped and knocked on Rhett’s door. He opened it and she slipped inside.
Nash grabbed the small bag holding his surveillance equipment, quietly left his room, and crept into the empty bedroom next to Rhett’s. He attached a listening device to the adjoining wall, donned a pair of earphones, and instantly heard their voices.
“She is not pleased,” said Ryder.
“But we’re making progress,” retorted Rhett.
“The progress is not fast enough.”
“Then what exactly would you suggest?” said Rhett heatedly.
“It is not my place to suggest. It is your place to act. Nash has already caused damage. He got into restricted databases. The FBI has executed search warrants. People have been detained and held for questioning. International law enforcement agencies are engaged and coordinating. This is serious.”
“Well, it was her goddamned fault that Nash got away in the first place.”
“Do you wish for me to report to her that you said so?”
Nash thought he could hear the clink of ice in a glass. He imagined Rhett taking a sip of whatever he was having in order to give him more time to think of an adequate response. Nash had seen him do that in business meetings, and in encounters with his father.
Rhett said, “I think that the last thing we need to do right now is fight amongst ourselves. We’re only going to get through this by working together. And I’ve got a lot on my plate and things keep being added to it. Hell, now even his wife thinks Nash is innocent.”
“Excuse me?” said Ryder.
Nash felt his heart skip a beat.
Rhett must have sensed that he had said something potentially dangerous because he immediately began to backtrack. “It’s nothing. Just saying stupid things.”
“Has she said these stupid things to the police?” asked Ryder.
“What? No, no, she wouldn’t. I’m sure of it.”
“There is only one way to be sure,” said Ryder.
Now Rhett was pleading. “She’s out of her head, okay? She takes pills. No one will believe her. Least of all the police.”
“So she takes pills? That is good to know. And useful.”
“No, wait. Please. Just leave her out of this. She is not a danger to us, I promise.”
“Your promises mean nothing to me, Mr. Temple.”
Nash heard Ryder leave. Then Rhett said, “Shit, I’m sorry, Judith.”
Nash poked his head out the doorway and saw Ryder walking down the hall. She was already on her phone. The Asian men had not come to the estate with them, but they had to be staying nearby, he knew. And he felt certain that she was contacting them right now.
Nash closed the door, grabbed the listening device, slipped it and the earphones into his pocket, and stepped out into the hall.
“Who you?”
Angie was staring at him from across the hall in her bedroom doorway.
“I’m… I work for Rhett.”
“Et?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “You want tea?”
“I…” Nash looked up and down the hall. The last thing he wanted was to waste time with tea.
But if he refused, and Angie got upset and made a ruckus?
He had met her once before when he and Judith had been invited to dinner.
Barton had mentioned that little things could set Angie off, and it would take a great deal of time and effort to calm her down.
“Sure, that sounds nice.”
She smiled and opened her door more.
While Angie fiddled with tea cups, he sent a message to Agent Morris and explained what had just happened.
Judith is in great danger. You have to get her out of there. Now!
When he didn’t get a response, Nash grew agitated.
Angie brought over his tea and cookie. He thanked her and drank it, and ate the cookie as fast as he could, even though it was stale and bitter.
“Tars,” she said, pointing at the ceiling littered with glittery stars. “Bootiful.”
“Yeah, they are,” he said, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Then he remembered something that Rhett had done when Barton couldn’t get Angie to go to sleep when he and Judith had gone there for dinner. He said, “Night-night-night, Angie. Time to go night-night-night.”
She smiled, nodded, got into her bed, and closed her eyes. “Night-night-night-night,” she said.
Nash was out the door a second later. His Porsche was parked in the motor court.
He looked back up at the dark facade of the house.
This was a big risk, but he had no other options.
He manually opened the gate, put the car in neutral, pushed it out past the gates, and closed them.
Then he hopped in when he hit a downward slope, started the engine, and drove as fast as he could to his old home.
He had lost Maggie. He could not lose Judith.