“You sure got a lot of guns and stuff,” George said, relaxing, his excitement growing. “Are they real?”
“When you were spying on us, did you learn anything?” the general suddenly asked George.
“I heard you talking about devils and marshals. And how you are going to do something nobody's ever done before.”
“What did you hear?”
“Break into whipsticks.”
The general's face froze; his smile became a grimace.
“I have an idea,” the general said. “Boys, this is Ralph. He's a helicopter pilot. He will take you both for a nice helicopter ride.”
“Yes!” Matt exclaimed, not believing their good fortune.
“I have to be home by five-thirty,” George told him, hoping that wouldn't make the general cancel their ride.
“Oh, you'll be down well before five,” the old man assured him. “Don't want you two out after dark. Nobody knows better than I do how dangerous a place the world is.” The old man looked at Ralph. “Take special care of these boys.”
25
Rook Island, North Carolina
Martinez followed Sean out onto the porch, where Winter sat in a wicker chair with Midnight on his lap. Sean took a seat in a rocking chair near Winter. Midnight hopped down, sprang up into her lap, and looked up into her eyes. She stroked the animal, seemingly comforted by its soft fur, its purring, as she seemed to noticeably relax.
“Traitor,” Winter said to Midnight.
“I want to thank you for telling me the truth,” Sean told Winter, without looking at him. “I'm sorry if I got you in hot water.” It was the truth. She felt terrible despite the fact that her reaction to what he had told her wasn't her fault.
“It's not a problem,” Winter replied.
“Somebody should have told you the truth,” Martinez said. Sean liked Angela Martinez. The woman had shown her nothing but kindness.
“That would have been nice,” Sean said quietly.
When the front door swung open, Midnight leaped from her lap and raced off around the corner. Sean looked up to see Dylan step out onto the porch with Cross following behind him.
Dylan walked over and stood directly in front of her chair. Instead of turning her eyes away from him, she met his stare with a new kind of determination in her eyes.
“We are going to talk,” he told her.
Sean felt a sudden rush of anger. “I've said everything I am going to say to you, and I am not interested in anything else you have to say. Ever.”
She was aware that Winter, Cross, and Martinez were exchanging concerned glances, but she didn't care. After what she had just discovered, she would never care what anyone thought of her again.
Dylan smiled, but his smile, once so comforting, made her feel sick.
“You have time for a cat but not your husband? Where's your capacity for forgiveness?”
“The cat has integrity,” she snapped, wanting to get up, get away from him, but he blocked her by leaning in and gripping the armrests.
“Move!” Sean ordered.
“Not until you agree to talk to me.”
“There's nothing to discuss.” Nothing he had said to her or could say mattered in the least. Sean had never suffered from indecisiveness. Once she made a decision, that was it.
Winter stood. “Back off, Devlin. Cross, escort Mr. Devlin to his room.”
Thank you, Winter, Sean thought, wishing she could confide in him how grateful she truly was.
“You don't have the authority to interfere between a man and his wife. You can't tell me to do anything, Mr. Ironman,” Dylan replied without taking his hands off Sean's chair or shifting his eyes from hers.
“Cross,” Winter said, “escort Mr. Devlin inside-now!”
“Fuck you, Massey,” Dylan told him.
Winter keyed the microphone. “Inspector, you might want to come out front. We have a situation.”
“You haven't seen a situation yet, Deputy,” Dylan said in a calm voice. “Sambo isn't going to change anything.”
Sean was relieved when Greg suddenly appeared, carrying a gun-shaped device Sean was unfamiliar with.
“Ms. Devlin, would you like to get up from the chair?”
Sean shook her head. “I would prefer he leave me alone.” Sean wasn't inclined to allow Dylan to control her at all, ever again. She would never again play the role of submissive, dutiful wife, blinded by passion.
“Mr. Devlin, step back,” Greg ordered.
“No,” Dylan said evenly. “Stay out of our business. My wife and I are going to have a talk — boy.”
“You see the stun gun I have in my hand?” Greg motioned menacingly. “If you don't back off, I am going to put you on the floorboards and restrain you for the duration. Choice is yours, Devlin. Back up or ride the lightning.” The Taser fired barbs that delivered 50,000 volts of electricity through wires connected to the weapon.
Sean wondered if Greg would really use the thing on Dylan, wondered if it would hurt him. She dearly hoped it would, with a newfound vengeance that would have shocked her the previous day.
“Touch me and Whitehead'll have your ass.”
“I don't take orders from Whitehead,” Greg told him. “I go by our protocols concerning whatever means are necessary to keep you safe, which are also designed to keep you from harming others. Our choices range from a takedown, like this Taser I am about to use on you, to cutting you in half with a shotgun.”
“I am not just another witness,” Dylan said, his eyes still locked on Sean's.
“No, you're a multiple murderer. The bottom line is that you will do what I say, when I say to do it, or I will fry you. End of discussion.”
“Mr. Devlin,” Martinez interposed. “Nobody can win here. We won't allow you to force Mrs. Devlin to do anything against her will. Inspector Nations won't back off and he isn't bluffing. Your call.”
Dylan finally turned his head to look at the marshals on the porch and at Beck, Bear, and Forsythe, who had appeared out on the sand behind them, armed. Dylan shook his head slowly, lifted his hands, and stepped back.
“You're a bright girl, Mar-tee-nez,” Devlin said. “Calmer heads should always prevail. I'll just say good afternoon.”
Sean stared at her husband's back as he walked inside. A burst of wind hit and brought with it the scent of rain.
“He won't bother you again,” Greg told her.
“If he comes near me again I will be forced to hold the USMS responsible,” she carped more out of pride at having been shown up as a victim in front of men. She knew this wasn't the fault of the deputy marshals on the detail. Keeping her in the dark was someone else's doing. “I want to leave now-tonight,” she said, meaning it, unable to back down now.
“I'll advise Control of the situation immediately. We're all leaving the island tomorrow. I have no idea where we'll be staying after we go. Under the circumstances, we'll make arrangements for separate quarters.”
“I will not spend another day near my husband. I absolutely refuse to travel anywhere with him.”
“Let me work on that,” Greg said evenly, trying to calm her down. “He won't bother you again. You just stay in your room as much as possible. Martinez will remain with you from now on. I wish I could do better.”
“So do I,” Sean replied curtly. “I won't stay locked up in my room like a criminal because of him. He is the one who should be locked up.”
