“Then all the more reason for you to stop the clock. Call Wilson now. Maybe if you cut a deal, gave him and Rawlins something on Hunt in exchange for—”
“No.” She scooted to the edge of her seat. “I listened to you, now you listen to me. In spite of what it looks like, I’m doing a good thing. I swear to you on Mother’s grave.”
“But you can’t tell me what it is?”
She shook her head.
“Rawlins acts tough, but Wilson is a reasonable person. I bet he would understand if you explained—”
“Possibly when it’s over, I will. But not before.”
“How come?”
“Because they could stop me.”
“Maybe not. Convince them your motives are honest.”
“You’re not listening. Guilt or innocence isn’t the issue. It’s time.”
“Sweetheart, Brynn, I’ve got experience with these things. I know the approach that cops respond to. Let me—”
“You can’t help with his, Dad, and, anyway, you have to go to work.”
“I can skip work.”
“I wouldn’t let you do that.”
“But—”
“You’re wasting your breath,” Mallett said.
Wes turned to him. “It’s my daughter and me talking here. I’ll ask you kindly not to interrupt.”
Mallett said, “She’s not turning herself in, and neither am I. And every second she spends arguing with you about it is squandering time better spent.” He came off the stool. “Yes or no on the car? If it’s no, we’re leaving.”
Wes looked between the two of them, saw the resolution in both their expressions, and realized that it was two against one, and he was the odd man out. He looked at Brynn with a frown of consternation. “I couldn’t talk you out of dating that wild Hendrix boy, either.”
“And I survived him.”
“Yeah, but look where you are now.” He gestured toward Mallett. “He’s a step or two down, you ask me. But”—he sighed—“you’ve got my car for as long as you need it.”
She didn’t hide her relief. “Depending on how things go, it could be several days before I can return it. How will you get to work?”
He pointed to the chessboard. “A greeter at the store is a friend of mine, lives in the neighborhood. We ride together every now and then. Pick up a pizza on the way home. Share it over a game of chess.”
“He won’t mind the inconvenience?”
“She.” Reading the surprise on Brynn’s face, he chuckled. “I’m a t
hief, not a monk.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Thank you.”
He acknowledged her thanks with a nod, then heaved another sigh and slapped his thighs as he came to his feet. “What state do you want to be from?” At their quizzical expressions, he said, “We need to swap out the license plates.”
Turning, he walked toward the bedroom, saying over his shoulder, “If y’all are going on the lam, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
11:39 p.m.