Chapter Seven
It had taken Kelly hours to get to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw images of Rick, ones that faded as quickly as they came. But toward dawn she dreamed she was standing in a cloud with Rick emerging from it slowly. He was completely naked, his beautiful cock jutting proudly from his body, and he was holding out a hand to her.
“Come here, pretty girl. I want to touch and taste every inch of your body.”
She looked down, and her nightshirt had disappeared, leaving her as exposed as he was. A pulse set up an insistent throb deep inside her, radiating out to every point of her body. Her breasts ached for the feel of his hands on them, his thumbs brushing her nipples to make them peak and harden.
When she took his hand, he pulled her close to him, his hot erection pressing against the softness of her tummy. His mouth closed over hers, and his tongue swept inside, gliding over every surface and igniting a live wire. His hands held her head in place, angling it so he could get a better fit with their mouths.
She reached automatically for his shaft, closing her fingers around it and caressing it with soft, slow strokes. He moaned into her mouth and lifted his lips from hers.
“I want to be inside you. Right now.”
She chuckled softly. “No time for foreplay?” she teased.
“Tell me you aren’t ready for me.” He dropped one hand to slide his fingers between the lips of her sex, rubbing the sensitive flesh. When he raised his hand, his fingers were slick with her juice. He licked them one at a time, ratcheting up the heat racing through her veins.
He backed her against something solid—she had no idea what—and from somewhere produced a condom.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he told her in a thick, low voice.
When she did, he braced his hands beneath her ass and drove into her. Hard.
Kelly sucked in her breath and tried to steady herself, but in seconds he was riding her, thrusting over and over, a hard, fast rhythm that left her no time to breathe or think. Only time to hold on for dear life as they climbed the peak together and exploded like a bomb igniting. Kelly was sure pieces of them went flying everywhere, but when she finally looked, no, they were somehow still intact.
He rested his forehead on hers, his chest still heaving, and she could feel his heart beating against hers.
“I have to tell you something,” he said at last. Something in his voice made her uneasy.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
But before he could answer her a vague image took shape in the darkness, one she couldn’t make out. Then Xena began barking, racing toward the shape, nose lifted into the air.
A sharp crack split the darkness, and millions of multicolored fragments exploded everywhere.
Kelly awoke, sweating and panting, pushing at the weight on her, which once again was Xena. But this time the dog wasn’t whining. She was growling and shoving at Kelly, pushing her off the bed.
Her lips pulled back to bare her teeth as her growl grew louder. When Kelly still sat there, trying to pull herself together, Xena barked, so sharp and loud it shocked her.
This was strange, because until recently she wasn’t given much to dreaming. She was one of those rare people able to completely blank her mind when she fell asleep.
Somehow Xena’s dream was invading her head again. That had to be it. What is it, Xena? What do you see? Smell? What is it, girl? Rick! Oh, God. Rick. Xena, is it Rick?
He needs help. Right now.
What can I do?
Call.
I can’t keep calling.
You have to. Make sure everyone knows Rick’s in danger. Right now. The danger is right this minute.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone.
*****
Dan snatched up the cell phone from his desk the minute it rang. Rick had called on arrival in Baghdad and again after the merchandise was offloaded. He hoped this was him or one of the others calling to give him an update before they set up their routine for the night. He was worried because it was more than ten hours since he’d heard from anyone there again. Trying not to act like a nervous mother, he’d forced himself to wait for their call, hoping this was it.
“What the hell’s going on there?” he barked into the phone.
There was a pause, then a female voice said in a tentative tone, “Mr. Romeo?”
Dan looked at the phone, then did his best to bite back his anxiety. “Yes, this is Dan Romeo.”
“This is Kelly Monroe again. Did I, um, catch you at a bad time?”
Dan blew out a breath. “No. Yes. I’m not sure. What can I do for you?”
“Have you spoken to Rick recently?”
Dan tightened his hand on the phone. “Not for the last several hours. Why?”
“I think something’s very wrong. Something bad is happening. Or has happened.” In an uncertain voice, she explained to him the situation with Xena. “I know you must think I’m crazy.” This was the same worry she’d expressed in the last phone call. “But I’m telling you, the dog has sensitivities you can’t even imagine. Something’s wrong, and Xena knows it. She told me.”
A muscle jumped in Dan’s cheek. “Actually, crazy is the last thing I’d think you were. Especially right now. I haven’t heard from anyone there in several hours. In fact, I was hoping you were one of them.”
“Can you please try to call Rick?” she pleaded. “And let me know what you find out?”
Dan began to roll the pen from his desk back and forth between his fingers. He knew well enough not to discount psychic warnings. They’d saved Mark’s life and Mia’s, and helped in the recovery of a valuable electronic robot. For the Hallorans and Romeos, the psychic gifts had become integrated into their lives.
“I’ve been on The Lotus Circle website,” Kelly went on when he didn’t answer her. “I’m not the only one linking mentally with their animal. There are more people with the same situation. And Mr. Romeo? The dog’s usually right.”
“All right. I’ll try to reach them. I’ve got your number programmed into my phone. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Dan disconnected the call and picked up the secure satellite phone in front of him. With an uneasy feeling, he punched in the numbers for the phone his men were holding in Iraq.
*****
The first thing Rick was aware of when he opened his eyes was something heavy on his chest. The intense pain followed instantly. Somewhere around him voices were cursing, familiar voices. What was wrong? What had happened to him?
“Son of a bitch. Help me here.”
Mike. That was Mike’s voice.
Rick wanted to tell him to get the elephant off his chest, but he couldn’t seem to make any sound except a gurgle.
“Can you hurry your ass up?” Mike hollered.
“Coming, coming, coming.”
Ed? Was that Ed?
“I rousted the medics from the dormitory. They’re on their way.”
“Well, I hope you told them they don’t have too damn much time to get here.”
The pressure on Rick’s chest eased, but he felt himself fading again. Voices blurred around him, and he could have sworn someone was whispering in his ear. Something important, but he couldn’t make it out.
“Hey! Get the hell out of here.” Mike, shouting. “Go find your people. Right now. Damn it, keep that pressure on, and get the rest of these people away from here. We don’t need a damn mob scene.”
Why is Mike shouting so loudly? And what’s wrong with my chest?
Feet shuffled on the tarmac. Strange voices babbled, then receded. New voices joined the others, and someone knelt at his side.
“Mr. Latrobe? Mr. Latrobe, I’m John Malone. I’m going to do my best to take care of you. Just stay with me, okay?”
Okay. I’m not going anywhere. He would have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so badly.
“He needs blood,” someone said. “Anyone know what type he is? Christ, someone did a number on him. Hey, Sam, hustle it up, will you?”
“Thank God Grainger Caldwell insisted on a complete medical setup here, including whole blood.” Ed was muttering under his breath. “In case of on-the-job accidents. This sure fits the bill.”
What did Ed want with blood?
“This is gonna be tricky.” One of the strange voices. “I’ve got to clean up the blood, prevent air from moving into the wound, and stave off infection. Ted, let’s pump him full of antibiotics as soon as we get the IV started.”
More murmuring. More running feet. Something about a refrigerator.
Then pinpricks in his arm, like the stick of needles.
“Okay.” Another strange voice. “Listen, guys. We’re going to do our best to stabilize him, but he needs to get to a hospital.”
“Can you fix him up so he’ll hold on just for a few hours? We’ve got a medical plane coming with a surgeon. It’s on its way.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Just do it. Whatever it takes. And I want one of you with him at all times.”
“Okay, okay. I guess all that time as a medic in Afghanistan is finally going to do some good.”
*****
Mike was standing outside by himself away from the trailer. This was the third time he and Dan Romeo had spoken.
“I’m telling you, Dan. It’s the biggest clusterfuck you ever saw.” He kept glancing toward the trailer, hoping Ed was riding herd on the medic with Rick.
“What the hell happened?”
“That asshole Jordan is knee-deep in this, and now he’s disappeared. Left everything behind, as a matter of fact. Just split. His so-called right-hand man, Amin, is less than useless. Couldn’t even keep his people together. And I’ll bet whatever GC is paying us he’s involved in this, too. That look of injured innocence and concern doesn’t quite cut it with me.”
“How did they take care of so many guards? They couldn’t possibly shoot them all.”
“My guess? Jordan and/or Amin doped the coffee they served with dinner. That’s what they did to us. Ed barely made it through his shift before collapsing. I drank more than he did, and I only made it to the front of the warehouse. I’d say Rick passed on it. Don’t know if that makes him lucky or not.” He wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead. “Everything’s gone but the construction equipment. Every last rifle, gun, bullet. Even the Humvees.”
“They planned this carefully,” Dan said, anger underlining his words. “Damn it all to hell, anyway. What about the local security people?”
“All gone,” Mike told him. “Only the ones we brought over are still here, trying to shake off the effects of the coffee. And royally pissed by the way.”
“This was a major operation,” Dan pointed out. “Jordan’s only part of it. God, Charlie Grainger will bust a blood vessel over this.”
“This is my fault. I recommended Jordan. I said if I was wrong about him you could skin me alive, so you’d better sharpen your knife.”
“I don’t even want to hear that, Michael. We did a complete rundown on him. And Rick spent a lot of time with him, getting this thing together.”
“Rick said he had a funny feeling,” Mike pointed out. “Too bad we didn’t pay more attention to it. Or Kelly Monroe and that weird dog.”
“Forget that now. We have to focus on the current situation. And buddy, I’d still trust your judgment any day.”
“We will discuss this later, but right now we need to get Rick out of here,” Mike told him. “Ed and I will stay on for a few days and see what we can come up with.”
“Troy’s already in the air in a borrowed Gulfstream C-38A. I have no idea whose arm he twisted, but he had the plane ready and medical supplies and a doctor loaded within an hour.”
“What’s their ETA?”
“I can only give you an approximation, but Troy will call you from the air and give you a better idea. They’ll use Grainger Caldwell’s clearance information to land. Can Rick hang on until they get there?”
Again Mike looked toward the trailer. “There’s no can about it. We’ll do it. I just hope to hell they get here fast.”
“They’ll have to refuel, both going and coming. I want fuel available to them at BGW, too.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Mike assured him, although at the moment he wasn’t sure exactly how.
“I’ll have Ed with a chopper waiting at the field when they land. We’ll take him to Houseman’s place.”
Dr. Janet Houseman ran a private clinic that was better than a full-service hospital and used by high-profile agents and corporate executives who didn’t need word of their situation leaking to the press.
“All right. Let me go check on Rick. Then I’ll do some reconnoitering here, see what anyone knows, and tell them a Grainger Caldwell plane will be coming in. I know the company made refueling arrangements.”
“Call me when Troy gets there.”
“Dan?”
“Yeah?”
“There are a million reporters over here. There’s no way to keep a lid on this. I’m surprised we haven’t collected a mob already.”
“I know.” The heavy sigh was audible over the connection. “Just station some of the guards around the area to keep them away until the plane gets there. And tell everyone the first person who opens his mouth will wish they’d never heard of us.”
Mike clicked off the phone and headed for the trailer. He’d check on Rick, then go about his business.
*****
Kelly clutched her cell phone to her ear, her whole body trembling. She could hardly believe what Dan had just told her.
“I knew it,” she kept repeating. “And Xena knew it, too.”
“You can’t blame yourself for any of this,” Dan told her. “Even if you’d been there, what could you have done?”
“Not me. Xena. She’d have known and helped me find a way to protect Rick.”
“Rick recruited Greg Jordan himself,” Dan pointed out. “This is a kick in the pants to all of us.”
“But Rick was the only one shot.”
“That’s because Ed and Mike drank the drugged coffee,” Dan explained. “As did all the security agents we brought over from the States. Rick was the only one who didn’t.”
“Will you call me the minute they’re back and let me know how he is?”
“Of course.”
Kelly disconnected the call and dropped the phone into her pocket, then poured herself the last cup of coffee in the carafe. Xena rubbed up against her, whining, and she rubbed the big head.
“We screwed up, girl,” she told her. “Big time. Actually, not you. I screwed up. I should have agreed we’d go with them.”
Xena pushed her nose into Kelly’s palm, a wet gesture of comfort.
“Yeah, thanks, but I don’t think this will make me feel a lot better. And you know what? I don’t think the danger’s over yet. We’ve got to figure out a way to protect him, Xena. Come up with a plan.”
Xena’s eyes locked with hers.
You know what we have to do.
Yeah, yeah, I do. But it means making some complicated arrangements. And we have obligations here.
Take care of Rick, or he’ll be dead.
Kelly sucked in a breath, shocked at the thoughts radiating from Xena. Drawing in some long, calming breaths, she opened her laptop and began making some lists.
*****
“We’ll be landing in Maryland in an hour,” Troy said into the sat phone. “Be sure the chopper is waiting for us.”
“Ed’s good to go,” Dan told him. “And Dr. Houseman’s ready for him, too. How’s he doing?”
Troy cast a look at Rick’s still figure strapped down on the gurney, life-giving fluids pouring into him through intravenous tubes, heavy layers of gauze wrapped around his chest. The surgeon Janet Houseman had sent with him had operated the moment Rick had been lifted onto the plane.
“It was touch and go for a while. I’ll be damn glad to get him into the clinic, but I think he’ll make it.”
Troy could hear Dan let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank God. And you were able to take care of things at BGW without a problem?”
“Yup. Two of the security guards we hired knew the drill cold and greased the skids for us. We landed, refueled, did what we had to, and got the hell out of there.”
“What about the media?”
“We managed to keep them away because technically the Grainger Caldwell compound is private property. And I threatened everyone left there within an inch of their lives. The guys we brought over for this are good. They’ll keep as tight a lid on things as they can, but you know it’s gonna leak out.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll just have to handle it. How did the operation go?”
Troy looked at his friend. “He’s a tough bird, that’s all I can say. The shot to the thigh did some ligament and muscle damage but was easily repaired. But that chest wound was bad news.”
“I’ll be glad to get him into Janet’s clinic,” Dan commented, his voice still ragged with concern. “Had Mike and Ed learned anything when you got there?”
Troy thought about the scene on his arrival. It had been like something out of the Mad Hatter’s tea party: One hundred very angry security guards tumbled out of bed, clad in jeans, shorts, or whatever they’d put on, but all wearing side arms. Everyone talking at once, and Mike and Ed trying to take control of the situation. And the media hovering at the edge of the compound, angry because they were being kept out.
Two Iraqis, who guarded the back entrance to the airport, had been standing to one side, alternately wringing their hands and spouting angry retorts. It was not their fault. They had nothing to do with it. They stayed away from whatever the Americans were doing. It was none of their business. They were not to blame. And on and on and on.
“Nada. Although to be truthful, they’d just really gotten started.” Troy gave a rough laugh. “The security guards we brought over were really pissed and ready to tear heads off. Mike’s getting them organized into teams and handing out assignments.” He paused. “Have you spoken to Charlie Grainger yet? Or Matt Caldwell?”
Dan snorted. “Oh, hell, yes. I’m lucky I still have my head on my neck.”
Troy could just imagine the reaction of the huge man with the hair-trigger temper. For once he was glad Dan got to be the front man.
“Did you manage to let him know this wasn’t just a bunch of rebels stealing equipment? That is was a well-planned, well-organized operation?”
“Yeah, for all the good it did me. Greg Jordan was our man. We recruited him. We should have known what he was up to.” Dan blew out a breath. “In any event, we’ve got to find out how this happened and where those weapons are.”
“I have a feeling Greg Jordan is only a small cog in this wheel,” Troy told him. “This took a lot more manpower than him. Everything’s gone. Just . . . disappeared. Someone had to make this happen.”
“Grainger’s going to be in my office tomorrow.”
“I think it’s probably just as well you’re meeting with him alone,” Troy pointed out. “You and Rick are the only ones who ever seem able to handle him.”
“Thanks. I think. All right.”
“And Dan?”
“Yeah?”
“You might want to see if Kelly Monroe and her psychic dog can shake themselves loose.”
In the midst of tension, Dan found himself smiling. Troy, the pragmatist, actually believing in something he couldn’t see?
“I’ll call her back. Any special reason why?”
“Two, actually. Not that I don’t trust Janet’s security, but these people want Rick bad enough to find a way in there. And on the flip side, I think our boy’s got a thing for the hot redhead. Her presence might help speed the healing process.”
“Playing matchmaker, are you? Okay, I’ll call her right now.” Both men hung up.
*****
The city of Baqubah, located approximately sixty miles from Baghdad, had a population of more than three hundred thousand. While the coalition forces for a time had maintained some semblance of control, it was one of the heaviest scenes of guerilla fighting and was now firmly in the hands of Sunni insurgents. The people involved in the theft of the weapons and Humvees were Shi’a, as was the al-Dulami family, but politics had made strange bedfellows. United in a common goal—regaining control of Iraq—the two groups of “friendly enemies” had managed a détente that seemed to work for them both.
Thus it was that the convoy carrying the stolen goods, moving one truck at a time at the direction of Greg Jordan, had made its way to this city of turmoil and a well-prepared hiding place. With the transfer of funds confirmed, al-Dulami and his men had taken delivery of the goods and were moving them out of the city as they had been moved in—piecemeal.
Lounging back on cushions in the home of a friend of his benefactor, Greg closed his laptop with a satisfied smile on his face. Every time he’d had satellite access, he’d checked his bank account, just to make sure. But he needn’t have worried. The money was there. Every dime he’d been promised. Two more days and he’d be on his way out of here.
“I believe we are about to move the last of the Humvees. In short order everything will be hidden in the Zagros Mountains, where we will launch our attack.”
Greg started. Al-Dulami had entered the room so quietly Greg hadn’t even heard him. He slid the laptop back into its case and stood up.
“I’m sure you’ll be happy to have this completed,” he told the man.
“Ah, but this isn’t the end, only the beginning,” al-Dulami said with a secretive smile. “Our plans are made. Now we have the means to put them into play. Soon the al-Dulami family will regain the position of power it once held.”
“I’ll be sure to be thinking about you when I’m sunning myself on my private island,” Greg joked.
Al-Dulami frowned. “Mr. Jordan, this is not a frivolous matter. The future of a country, of history, is at stake here.”
Greg swallowed his sarcastic retort and inclined his head. “I beg your pardon. My remarks were improper. I wish you the greatest success with your mission.”
Al-Dulami returned the bow. “Thank you. I appreciate your words. Please pass along my gratitude to our mysterious benefactor.”
Now Greg couldn’t suppress his laugh. “I think you know as well as I do who that is. Your son certainly should. But I’ll be sure to give him your message.”
As soon as al-Dulami had left, Greg pulled out his sat phone and punched in a familiar number.
“We’re all set,” he told the familiar voice who answered. “The last of the merchandise leaves tonight. My money’s in the bank. Latrobe’s history. All’s right with the world.”
“I think your celebration is a little premature,” the voice said, the words falling like ice chips.
A funny feeling skittered along Greg’s spine. “I don’t understand. Everything’s been taken care of.”
“Everything but your friend Latrobe.”
“What do you mean? I shot him myself. Twice.”
“Then your aim must not be so good. Or you didn’t stay around to make sure you finished the job. He was airlifted out of BGW to Maryland and has disappeared off the face of the earth. Find him.”
Greg squeezed the phone. “Disappeared? Are you sure he was actually alive? That this wasn’t just a stunt to fool people?”
“No stunt, you idiot. I have eyewitness accounts. So before you get too comfortable on whatever island where you plan to drink yourself to death, I suggest you find out where this man is and get rid of him. I can arrange the evidence. You take care of the body. And make sure you do it right this time. We need a dead culprit, not a live liability.”
Greg felt every muscle in his body tighten. “Find him? You mean come back to the States?”
“I mean, do whatever it takes. A little bird managed to tell me that they suspect Latrobe has a contact who gave him information we can’t afford to have leaked. And that’s on top of what you think he saw on your computer. When the shit hits the fan, we cannot afford to have him put forth his assumptions. His finger is the only one that can point our way because he’s a very smart bastard. Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it to you. But this is your mess. Clean it up.”
“Why can’t you have someone already in the States do it?”
“Because we cannot have one more person privy to this situation,” the man said angrily. “Do you understand? Too many people are involved already.”
“Yes.” Greg swallowed the bitterness in his voice. “All right. But I’ll need a way to get into the country unseen, as well as some other things.”
“Just tell me. I’ll get you in, and whatever you need will be ready for you.” Greg clicked off the connection, aware that his hands were shaking.
Well, shit. Was it possible for anything else to go wrong? Damn Rick Latrobe, anyway.
*****
Zarife al-Dulami moved into the alley between two stores so he could speak more privately on his cell phone.
“Yes,” he told the man on the other end. “My father tells me all is well. Everything has been received and moved to the appropriate location. Thank you.”
“I guess I should thank you,” the voice told him. “This was a sweet deal for both of us. Nice and clean.” He paused. “However, your information that Rick Latrobe is not dead doesn’t make me very happy.”
“I have explained all that to you,” Zarife said, rubbing his thigh nervously. “I’ll be happy to work on that again, if you wish.”
But not with that idiot, Gabir.
“That’s being taken care of. But you’d better tell your father that none of those weapons can end up in the wrong hands. We don’t need anything coming back to smack us in the face. Certainly not while Latrobe is still alive to put the pieces together.”
“I assure you,” Zarife told him, “nothing like that will happen. My father is very, very careful.”
“He’d better be. I chose the buyer carefully for this because I didn’t want any slipups. The kind I could run into, selling on the open market. If it comes back on me, I won’t hesitate to sacrifice whomever I have to.”
“Understood.”
Without waiting for the man to close the conversation, Zarife hung up. His first instinct was to call his father, but he knew the elder al-Dulami was out of reach for two days, meeting with his advisors and formulating their final plans. In any event, it would be an insult to tell his father to be careful. All he could do was wait until it was time and he was summoned.
*****
The sound of car doors slamming told Kelly both her assistants had arrived, fortunately at the same time. She looked at the clock on the stove. Six thirty. Right on time. Good. If she could make this work, she could be at the airfield by late afternoon.
Swallowing the last bitter dregs of cold coffee, she headed out toward the kennel. These were good people. She’d trained them herself. It was time to let them know how much she trusted them and to feel confident they could handle the clients. Then they could take some well-earned vacation time.
They fed and watered the dogs, then let them out into the runs for exercise while Kelly sat down with the two people and discussed the situation. An hour later she headed into the house with a clear head. They could do this, and whatever it cost her financially was nothing compared to the chance to be with Rick.
Inside she opened her cell phone and called Harry.
“Kelly.” There was no disguising the pleasure in his voice. “It’s always so good to hear from you, honey. You doing okay? Everything all right?”
“Well.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Actually, Granddad, not quite so good. I was wondering if I could come visit you for a few days. Xena and I, that is.”
There was just a moment’s pause at the other end of the connection. “Well, sure, honey. You know the two of you are welcome any time. But you were just here. What’s going on?”
“Let me ask you something first. Have you heard anything about Rick?”
Now there was a longer silence before Harry spoke again. “I take it you’re not asking about that accident.”
“No, Granddad. I know what happened in Iraq. I’ve spoken with Mr. Romeo.”
She could almost see her grandfather frowning. “You have? For what reason?”
“It’s a long story, and it started with Xena’s connection with Rick at the airfield. Remember?”
“Yes, I do. Thought it was strange at the time, all things considered.”
“I need to see him,” she blurted out. “I can’t stand just sitting here, not knowing anything. Not when it’s my fault.”
“Your fault? Wait just a minute here. How the hell is Rick getting shot in Iraq your fault at all?”
Trying to be as coherent as possible, stumbling over her words in places, she explained about the visit from the Phoenix people and Xena’s reaction again to Rick. His request that she accompany him on the trip. And most of all, the dreams and Xena’s actions since then.
“First of all, Kelly, Rick Latrobe had one hell of a nerve asking you to go into a place as risky as Iraq. If he wasn’t already in such bad shape—”
“Bad shape?” she interrupted. “How bad? Mr. Romeo was rather lean on details.”
“It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Harry told her. “Stay up there in Maine, where it’s . . . it’s . . .”
“Safe?” she finished for him. “Okay, fine. If I can’t come stay with you, Xena and I will find the closest campground.”
“You don’t even know where Latrobe is,” Harry protested.
“No, but you’re going to help me find out. Or at least, I hoped you were. If not, I’m not without my own resources. I’ll just badger it out of Mr. Romeo himself. Or his wife.”
“Damn,” Harry swore. “You’re just as headstrong as your mother, God rest her soul.”
“Granddad, we have this connection, Rick and Xena and I. And I don’t think the danger’s over just because Rick’s back in the States. Xena needs to be with him.”
And so do I.
The sigh that Harry heaved was loud and resigned. “All right. Come on down. I’ll call Dan and talk to him about the situation,” he gave in. “But I don’t promise anything.”
“If you can just get him to come talk to me. Or have his wife come. I can make them understand.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Just as soon as I hang up this phone and throw my things in the truck. It’s a little over an eight-hour drive, so I should be there before five.”
“Come straight to the field,” Harry told her. “I’ll have made my calls by then. And drive carefully, you hear? Better to get here an hour later and still in one piece.”
“I will,” she promised.