Page 89 of Hunting Time

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She now asked, “You have open internet?”

“Open? Oh. No, the router’s passcoded. I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t need it. Can Hannah get the code?”

“It’s on the router. There.”

The black box sat in the corner.

“Can you hide it?”

He moved the device to a closet and closed the door. “Why?”

“Hannah doesn’t get how much we’re in danger. I’m afraid she’ll post something.” Her heart clenched. “She already did. Jon could have found where we were staying. She was trying to tell him where we were.”

He frowned. “Why on earth would she do that?”

Parker’s eyes too now scanned the property. “She wants her father. Well, the father she remembers from the old days. Thinks he’ll apologize and we’ll be a happy family again. She doesn’t see who he is now.” A shrug. “She’s happy to forgive. And thinks I should too.”

There was much more to say, almost too much.

But Allison Parker let it go at that, though she added, “I’m sure he’s drinking again.” She continued to stare out on the expanse of grass and scrub. “That’s a match and gasoline.”

“Well, you’ll be safe here. It’s a fortress. There’re druggies, meth, in this part of the county. Jon can’t get in once I seal it up. I’ve got a central station panic button. And then...” He nodded to the dark corner where the rifle sat. She knew he was quite the shot.

“Really, only a day or two. If they don’t get him by day after tomorrow, I’m going to Indianapolis. One of my old roommates lives there. I’ve never mentioned her to Jon.”

And then it was time—past time—for the subject of Jon Merritt to go away.

She studied him with a faint smile. “You seeing anyone these days?” Frank had been a widower for years. They had dated after his wife passed away.

“Nothing serious. Too old for that nonsense.”

She scoffed.

“Well, too busy.”

“That’s more like it.” She shook her head. “Sixty-hour weeks, I’ll bet. Like me.”

“The modular reactors. That’s exciting work. What’re yours called again? Interesting name, right?”

“Pocket Suns.”

“That’s clever. You in production yet?”

“Next year. And how are Frank Junior and Ella?”

“West Coast and East respectively. Ella’s turning me into a grandfather.”

“Oh, Frank! When?”

“Couple of months. I arrange my own lecture schedule. So I see them both quite a bit. Frankie’s got a partner now, going on three years. Thom’s a computer whiz. We talk math till Frankie falls asleep.”

“Happy for you.”

His eyes dropped. “I haven’t been in touch. I should’ve called.”

She held up a hand. “I’m just as guilty. Life moves on.”


Tags: Jeffery Deaver Thriller