anger.
'She's in the den.' Nick reached out a restraining hand, grasping the older man by the arm.
Rusty stopped, eyeing Nick with a harsh glare. 'Is she all right?'
'Yeah, she's all right … now. But she won't be if you go storming in there and upset her.' Gauging Rusty's reaction to his comment, Nick felt him relax slightly, his big, powerful body losing some of its rigidity. 'Look, she's worried about you. She's more concerned by how this is affecting you than anything else.' Nick released his tenacious grip on Rusty's arm.
'Where's the box?'
'She has it with her,' Nick said.
'Dammit, man, why did you ever let her see it in the first place?'
'I didn't want her to see it, but I didn't have the right to keep it from her. She's not a child, and as much as you and I want to protect her, we're not doing her any favors by treating her like one.'
'Hell, she is a child. My child! My only child…'
'Granted. But she's also a woman, an adult who's fought long and hard for the right to be treated as one.' Nick nodded toward the living room. 'We need to talk, just the two of us … alone, before you see Addy.'
'Keeping secrets from her?' Rusty asked. 'I thought you said we needed to treat her like an adult.'
'Addy already knows what I'm going to say to you. I just didn't think it was necessary for her to have to hear it all over again while you and I thrash things out.' Nick walked out of the foyer and into the living room, stopping briefly in the doorway to issue Rusty an invitation. 'How about something to drink while we talk?'
Rusty grunted, then smiled. 'Sure. Scotch. Neat.' He joined Nick in the living room, watching while his daughter's bodyguard poured two glasses a third full, then handed one to him.
'Sit?' Nick asked, lifting the Scottish whiskey to his mouth, tasting it, savoring the smoky flavor.
'I know what you're trying to do, Romero.' Sitting down, Rusty filled a blue brocade wingback chair with his big body.
Nick didn't respond. He simply stared at Rusty as if he didn't have any idea what he was talking about.
'You want to calm me down before I see Addy.' D.B. McConnell took a hardy sip of his Scotch, allowing it to linger in his mouth before swallowing. 'Seeing those pictures and newspaper clippings upset her more than she wants me to know. Right?' When Nick didn't reply, he continued. 'You're trying to protect my daughter from me, aren't you?'
'Look, Rusty, I'm probably overstepping my bounds, but the last thing Addy needs right now is to see you coming apart at the seams.'
'I agree.' Rusty took another hefty taste of his drink. 'I knew you were the man for Addy the night you threatened to castrate Gerald Carlton, the same night you saved her from a kidnapper.'
'I admit that I care about Addy, that I'll do whatever it takes to protect her, but don't go ringing wedding bells and throwing rice. I've been a bachelor for forty-three years, and I plan on staying one another forty- three.'
Rusty finished his Scotch, set the glass down on a nearby cherry table and stood. 'I like that about you. You're honest with me, and I'll bet you're honest with Addy. That's good enough for me. Don't make her any promises you don't intend to keep.'
Choosing to ignore Rusty's comments, Nick plunged right to the heart of the matter. 'I need to get Addy out of this house, away from Huntsville.' He set his unfinished drink down beside Rusty's. 'It's the only way I can guarantee her safety.'
'Has she agreed?'
'Yes, she has. Your daughter may be as stubborn as a mule, but she isn't stupid. We're dealing with an unknown quantity here, a guy who's making threats to kidnap—threats to kill—if you bid on the NASP project. If he doesn't know where Addy is, he can't hurt her.'
'I've got a condo in Florida and an apartment outside Washington—'
'And everybody who knows you and Addy knows about the condo and the apartment.'
Grunting, Rusty rubbed his chin as he considered other possibilities. 'I've got friends and business associates all over, even in Europe. I can call in some favors and have the two of you on a plane to practically anywhere in the world within twelve hours.'
'It'll be best if I take Addy someplace that even you don't know about.' Nick waited for the lion's roar. He didn't have to wait long.
'What? You can't mean that you don't want me to know where my own daughter is? That won't wash with me, Romero! Wherever Addy goes, I want to stay in contact with her!'
'I've already called Sam Dundee,' Nick said. 'He's got a place lined up for us. No one except Sam will know our whereabouts. I'll check in daily with him, and he'll relay the message to you. If you need to contact us, then call Sam and he'll get in touch with us.'
Rusty paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his hands balled into fists as if he longed to smash something. 'I don't like it … but you're right.'
'Then you agree?'
'Yeah. Reluctantly, but I agree.'
'Let's tell Addy.'
The moment her father entered the den, Addy jumped off the couch and ran to him, throwing her arms around him.
Rusty soothed her, petting her like the child she was to him. 'It's all right, baby girl.'
'Oh, Daddy, please don't look at the pictures or the articles. It won't change anything. It'll just upset you.' She gazed at him pleadingly.
He ran his fingers down her cheek, tenderly grasping her chin in his hand. 'I don't need to see them. I'll just take a look at the note.'
Addy sighed with relief. Going through the contents of the box had made her physically ill, and even now her mind could not erase the images of those long-ago newspaper articles—articles she'd never been allowed to see when they'd been fresh news. But her father would have seen them all, twenty-nine years ago when Donnie had been kidnapped and murdered, and twenty-five years ago when Madeline Delacourt McConnell had committed suicide.
'Ned Johnson is on his way over here,' Nick said.
'You've already called the FBI?' Rusty shook his head. 'Do you think there's any way they can trace the box, find out who sent it?'
'It's doubtful. I think we're dealing with a very intelligent person, one who's covering his tracks. I'd bet my life that our mystery man didn't leave any prints on the box or its contents. That's why I saw no reason not to take a look at everything before I called Johnson.'
'Even intelligent people make mistakes,' Addy said.
'That's what we're counting on.' Nick pulled out a sheet of plain white paper from his pocket, handing it to Rusty. 'Here's the note that was lying on top of the pictures and clippings.'
Rusty released Addy, took the note and read it hastily. 'M.A.C. doesn't have to bid on the NASP contract.'
'Yes, we do,' Addy said vehemently. 'No matter who's behind this, Gerald or … or someone else, we can't let them get what they want. Not only will we lose millions, but it could cost hundreds of jobs.'
'Your life is worth more than money or jobs,' Rusty said.
'My life is safe.' Addy turned to Nick, smiling. 'Nick and I are leaving Huntsville before daybreak tomorrow, and we're not coming home until M.A.C. has won the NASP contract. Two more weeks and this will all be over.'
'If only we knew for sure it was Carlton.' Rusty clutched his hands in imitation of a stranglehold, crumpling the threatening letter. 'I'd kill that bastard with my bare hands. I should have killed him years ago!'
'If Gerald is behind these threats, then the FBI will catch him.' Addy hoped it was Gerald. She'd thought she was long over her hatred and bitterness, but she wasn't. Her ex-husband had put her through three years of agony and stripped her of her dignity as a woman. Death was too good for him!
'When I called Johnson to tell him about Addy's little package, he gave me some interesting information.' Nick
