Page 126 of Tailspin

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“Afraid that you had gotten the gene, and that one day it would manifest itself.”

Brynn sighed. “Relax, Dad. I didn’t inherit your bent for stealing.”

“I don’t steal,” he said. “I just—”

“Take stuff that doesn’t belong to you,” Mallett remarked.

Wes shot him a look. “Not out of meanness, or envy, or greed. Nothing like that. Just…”

“Just…?”

“Convenience.”

“I see. Thanks for the clarification.” Mallett raised his coffee mug in a mock toast.

Wes went back to Brynn. “What do you have that the senator perceives is his?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“They could cut out my tongue before I’d rat you out.”

“I know that. But the less you know, the better for you. I don’t want to get you into trouble.” She looked at Mallett with annoyance. “Never mind what Rye said. We don’t want you to steal a car for us. But if you have one we could borrow, it would be a big help.”

“Does it have to do with that sick little girl the deputies mentioned?”

Brynn gave a small nod. “Please don’t ask me for more details than that.”

“Okay. But based on what Wilson and his partner told me, you’re not just dodging them. You’ve got some much rougher characters after you, too.” He pointed his chin at the cuts on Rye’s left hand. “The fight in the garage?”

“Timmy,” Mallett said. “He’s a twisted kid with lots to prove.”

“Meaning dangerous.”

“High-octane dangerous.”

Wes rubbed his hand across his mouth and chin. Focused on Brynn, he said, “Sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fair enough. But please listen to your old man. Sometimes you’ve gotta raise your hands and walk out from cover. Surrender. Giving yourself over to the authorities is never a preferable choice, but sometimes it’s the only smart one.”

“I’m not surrendering.”

“Technically it wouldn’t be a surrender. Wilson only wants you for ‘questioning.’ That doesn’t mean arrest. He gave me his number. Why don’t I call him, get him back over here, y’all sit down together and—”

“No.”

“Brynn—”

“No! I can’t turn myself over to them. Not now, anyway. Not yet.”

“Okay, okay. You want time to think about it. I get that. Say, first thing in the morning.”

She shook her head. “Even if they cleared me, I can’t afford the time it would take to sort out everything. I’m racing the clock.”

“Clock? What clock? There’s a deadline?”

“A crucial one.”


Tags: Sandra Brown Suspense