headed south. He cut through town and turned into the Prescott homestead. He parked the Slammer out front of the house, cut the engine, and removed the helmet. His hair was soaked with sweat. He blew out a breath.
Hell of a morning.
'Sounded like a damn tornado.'
Andy's father unloaded the shotgun, stuck the shells in his pocket, and leaned the gun against the porch rail. He stepped down off the porch.
'Damn thing's bigger than you are.'
'Russell's guys found me in Austin, chased me out 290. So I took them out on the Devil's Backbone. Good thing those big Mercedes have airbags all around.'
'Can't you find this guy?' Harmon said.
'We're working our contact,' the boss said.
'Well, work him harder!'
'You got a number?'
Harmon read the phone number and said, 'Now find Andy Prescott!'
TWENTY-THREE
Andy stashed the Slammer in the barn then went into the house. His mother wouldn't be home for a few hours yet. They had lunch, then his father took Jessie down to the creek for a fishing lesson. Andy and Frankie followed, but Andy needed to talk to her alone; she needed a cigarette.
'You dyed your hair black.'
She took a drag on her cigarette and nodded.
'Your hair is really red.'
Another nod.
'Red hair is recessive.'
'Which means?'
'It means Jessie isn't Russell Reeves' daughter. He lied to me.'
'I'm glad you finally believe me.'
'I don't. You're lying to me, too.'
'We'll leave.'
'No, Frankie, you don't need to leave. I'm just trying to figure out why you can't tell me the truth.'
She didn't tell him now. They walked down to the creek and found his father and Jessie fishing from the rock outcropping. Jessie squealed at the sight of a small fish hooked on her cane pole.
'I always wanted Jessie to grow up in a place like this, maybe have some horses.'
'You can stay here as long as you want.'
'Or until Reeves finds me. And he will.'
Max was barking.
'I see them, boy,' Paul Prescott said.
They had followed Jean Prescott home. A black Mercedes-Benz sedan now sat just outside the front gate. A dozen ostriches had gathered at the gate like palace guards; at four hundred pounds each, they presented quite an obstacle. Andy's father was sitting in a rocker on the front porch with the shotgun in his lap, an even bigger obstacle for a trespasser.
'Paul, are they coming for us?' Jessie asked.
'Honey, they'll have to get through the birds first, then this double-aught buckshot.'
'Is that a no?'
His father smiled. 'That's a no. They're not coming through that gate.'
Not yet, anyway. But they might. So Andy called Russell Reeves.
'Hello, Andy.'
'Your men chased me all over town.'
'You ran.'
'Are they okay, your guys that crashed?'
'They're fine. German cars.'
'There's another German car parked outside our gate-what do you want, Russell?'
'I want to talk to Frankie.'
'No.'
'The DNA matched, Andy.'
'It matched Frankie.'
'Then tell her to get in the car. They'll bring her to me.'
'No.'
'I'll have you arrested for stealing my money.'
'I'll tell them you're trying to kidnap Frankie.'
'The privilege, Andy. My secrets are safe with you. You're my lawyer.'
'Not anymore.'
'You go public, you'll lose your law license. Besides, no one will believe you. Your word against mine.'
'That's true, Russell, but you can't get your money back.'
'I can sue you. I can file a complaint with the bar association, have you disbarred for stealing trust funds.'
'No, you can't.'
'Why not?'
'Because there's an exception to the attorney-client privilege. If the client sues the attorney or files an ethics complaint, the client is deemed to have waived the privilege.'
'Which means?'
'Which means I can spill my guts, tell the world everything I know about you. Your secrets won't be safe.'
'Who the hell made that up?'
'Lawyers. We make the rules to protect ourselves.'
A deep sigh on the phone.
'I hate lawyers.'
'Russell, I wired the money to Frankie's bank account.'
'I know. Nine hundred forty-eight thousand and three dollars.'
'You owe her that much.'
'I'll pay her more, if she'll come in.'
'Why?'
'Ask her, Andy. Ask her to tell you the truth.'
Andy disconnected and went over to Frankie at the window.
'We've got to leave, Andy. Before they start shooting.'
'They're not going to shoot. Russell wants you alive.'
'What'd he say?'
'He said you know the truth.'
'It doesn't involve you, Andy.'
Andy pointed at the sedan out front.
'It sure as hell does, Frankie. I've been chased all over Austin and the Hill Country by Russell's men because he wants you. Because of you, those men are parked outside my parents' home.'
'Because of you, those men found me.'
She was right.
'We can't get out the front gate,' he said, 'and your car won't make it through the pasture to the back gate.'
