“I know she does-and you can’t keep them locked away forever, now, can you?”
Riley said nothing. His skin felt itchy and hot, but there was a cold, sick feeling in his stomach.
“Look-” Redfield exhaled gustily in his ear “-you know as well as I do, if the bad guys want her badly enough, sooner or later they’re going to find a way to get to her. You want to live with that? You want her and those kids to live with that?” Riley said nothing; his eyes were following Tom Denby as the investigator paced at a polite distance, fidgeting with things in his pockets. The FBI man continued, almost gently, “They might be on Robey’s trail right now. He could be leading ’em right to her. If they get the chance to use the wife and kids to leverage Robey, they won’t hesitate for one minute, and you and I both know it. Robey’s gonna find her, the bad guys are gonna find Robey, and who knows who’s gonna find who first? Isn’t it better to have us be the ones writing the script? And if it gives us a chance to clear this thing up, once and for all…” The agent’s voice had taken on a curious vibration, and Riley remembered suddenly what Summer had said about Captain Ahab and Moby Dick.
Then Redfield paused, and Riley could almost hear him fighting down his demons. Finally, once more back in the classic feds monotone, he murmured, “At least let us talk to her. That’s all we ask.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Riley said heavily. But he already knew what her answer would be. “I’ll get back to you.”
He cradled the phone and sat for a moment, staring at it. Then he straightened and looked at Tom Denby, who had turned from the window and was regarding him with a small, waiting smile. Denby was a stocky, nondescript man with thinning hair and nondescript glasses, the kind of man who would be easy to overlook in a crowd. But a man whose eyes and ears missed nothing, and the one man Riley wanted at his back in a brawl.
“Tom,” he said on an exhalation, “I’m gonna have to ask you to be on standby for a while.”
“I gathered.” The investigator nodded toward the phone. “That was the feds?”
“That was the feds.” Riley smiled, but he felt dark and cold inside. “And I’m afraid we might not be working on quite the same agenda, if you know what I mean. We have…different priorities.”
“I hear ya,” said Denby softly. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Riley said in an undertone as he ushered Summer and the children into his office the following afternoon. “Please keep that in mind-you are not obligated to do anything they ask you to do. Do you understand?” She sure should understand, he thought; he’d told her that often enough in the past twenty-four hours. Emphasized it, with silent gnashing of teeth, knowing how futile it was.
As he’d feared, she’d jumped on the idea of using herself as bait in an FBI trap the instant he’d mentioned it to her. Far from being nervous or apprehensive, the notion of putting herself in jeopardy in order to bring about an end to her present state of fear and uncertainty seemed to have ignited something inside her-something fierce and purposeful. He could see it in the light that gleamed in her eyes, in the lift of her chin and the set of her shoulders. Feel it in the excitement and tension that seemed to emanate from her like a field of electrical energy. For the first time, he saw and understood just how strong and brave she really was, this woman he’d once allowed to be judged an airhead and a bimbo. Understood that for all her gentleness and nurturing heart, Summer Robey was a woman to be reckoned with, and an adversary to be feared.
And she’d never looked more beautiful to him. Maybe it was because of the way she was dressed, which was the way he’d always pictured her, in a dress of soft, sunshine yellow with buttons all down the front, a scooped neckline and belted waist, her hair falling to her shoulders in gleaming golden waves, or it could be that new inner fire, or simply a change in his own perceptions. Whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to keep from looking at her. And whenever he did, his heart would begin to pound.
“I’ll be fine,” Summer said in a quiet voice just for him, and at the same time with a radiant smile for Danell, who responded with a syrupy, “How’re you, Mrs. Robey, nice to see you again.”
“They here yet?” Riley asked in a muttered undertone.
“Waitin’ in your office.” She leaned across her desktop, braced on her forearms, to smile at the children. “Hey…who’s this we got here?”
“David, Helen,” said Summer, “say hello to Mrs…uh-”
“Johnson-but y’all can call me Danell if you want to, okay?” The children both nodded; apparently overcome with awe, they were expressing it in their own individual ways-David in round-eyed silence, Helen antsy and primed for battle.
“It’d probably be better if they stayed out here,” Riley said, frowning. “Danell, do you think you could-”
“Oh, sure-no problem.” She shooed them off with a wave of her hand and a toothy grin for the children. “We’ll be fine-won’t we, hon? Hey, you guys like to draw pictures?”
Riley murmured, “Thanks,” and put his hand on Summer’s waist, his heart already beating like a trip- hammer.
“Can I watch you work the computer?” he heard David ask shyly as he ushered Summer into the hallway.
And his secretary answered, “Well, sure, I guess you can if you want to. How ’bout you, ladybug? Hey, that is a
And Helen’s response, in a tone of uncharacteristic sweetness: “Uh-huh-Mr. Riley buyed it for me. He buyed us lots of stuff-books…even one about dinosaurs. An’ you know what else…?”
Riley closed his eyes and gave an inaudible sigh as he opened his office door and waved Summer in ahead of him. Oh, Lord. Danell was never going to let him hear the end of this.
The feds had gone. The outlines of the plan to trap and capture Hal Robey were in place; all that remained was the phone call that would set it in motion. Summer looked drained but resolved; Riley felt as if he’d spent a week in court. He felt exhausted, but wired, too, a mood he normally might soothe with a quiet evening in feminine company… an elegant dinner…good wine…soft music… He tried putting Summer into that picture, but it just wouldn’t work, somehow. Somehow he’d known it wouldn’t. No matter how lovely she was in that yellow dress and high-heeled shoes, she was always going to be more at home in blue jeans and sneakers.
In his secretary’s office, they found David jammed in between Danell’s knees and the computer, avidly click- clicking away with the mouse. When she heard them come in, Danell threw a look over her shoulder long enough to say indignantly, “Hey, did you know there are card games on here?” And then, turning back to David, she said, “There you go-red nine on that black ten right there. See it?”
“Is Helen-”
Danell jerked her head toward the waiting room. “She’s out there paperin’ the place with pictures of dinosaurs on sticky notes.”
“Could I please use the rest room?” Summer murmured.
“Sure,” Riley said. “Down the hall on the left.” While she excused herself, Danell surrendered her chair to David and came around her desk. Riley saw the look in her eye and held up a hand. “Don’t even start.”
“Don’t tell me don’t start,” she huffed in a whisper. “That woman and those kids been
“Oh, hell.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and whispered back, “It’s not what you think.”
“Hey-you don’t even
“Hush, Danell-you know she’s not my type.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously-you’ve known me how many years now? How many women have I been out with in that time? Now, tell me-have you ever known me, even once, to date a woman who had kids?”
She didn’t say anything, just nailed him with one of her looks. Riley rolled his eyes; he knew he wasn’t off the hook yet. Sure enough, Danell folded her arms, moved in close and poked him in the chest with one of her inch-long silver-blue fingernails. “Now, you tell
Riley just looked at her. He’d have come up with an answer for her, though; he was sure he would have, except that right then Summer came back into the room, looking like she’d just washed her face and brushed her hair.
