Sherlock shrugged. “Two very strong people slapped together in a mess like this…”
“Yeah, but let’s keep out of it, Sherlock. Neither of us has a clue as to what will happen between them, if anything.”
“The children are very important to both of them,” she said. The phone rang and she turned to answer it. It was Agent Dane Carver, to catch Savich up on his case in Miami.
On Wednesday morning Savich was so stiff and sore, he knew he had to do something. Walking on the treadmill sounded like just what he needed. He’d forgotten all about Valerie Rapper. But evidently she hadn’t forgotten him. She was there at the gym, waiting for him. Did the woman have spies? Her timing was incredible.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” he said.
“I sometimes like to work out in the mornings. I saw you on TV last night, Agent Savich,” she said, looking over at him as she pressed in ten minutes on the treadmill next to him. “Those poor husbands, I guess you really wanted to remind the public how horrific all this is, and that’s why you showed them off.”
Savich grunted again. His back was sore, but the walking was helping to loosen it up a bit. Sherlock had bandaged him up really well, knowing he wouldn’t do anything too stupid, but since she’d been muttering under her breath at the time, he wasn’t sure.
“What’s wrong? You’re moving like you’re hurt. What happened?”
There was real concern in her voice. He looked over at her and said in his mildest, most unthreatening voice, “Nothing’s wrong. Just a pulled muscle.”
“I thought you were moving a bit stiffly on television last night.”
“I’ll be fine.” He looked pointedly down at the book he was reading.
“Would you go for a cup of coffee after you’re finished working out? I’m buying.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Rapper, but I’m married. I don’t go out for coffee with other women even if they’re offering to pay.”
She laughed. “Sure you can. It’s no big deal. I’m not going to seduce you, Agent Savich, it’s only a cup of coffee, a bit of conversation.”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
“Perhaps it’s time for you to loosen up a bit, have a bit of fun. I know, I know, what fun can you have over coffee? It’s possible, I swear.”
Savich said, “You’ve probably seen my wife here at the gym-red curly hair, big blue eyes. She’s also an FBI agent. Her name’s Sherlock.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“What? Hair? Name? The fact that she’s an agent?”
“Her name,” she said, looking into the mirror behind Dillon Savich. “Her name is ridiculous.”
“Rapper’s pretty funny, too.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Yes,” she said slowly, “perhaps it is.” She looked at him again, but he couldn’t begin to read her expression. She punched the stop pad, stepped off the treadmill before it stopped, and walked away. She said over her shoulder, giving him a profile that she knew was superb, “You just think about having coffee with me, Agent Savich, all right?”
She was gone before he could answer.
27
I t was a beautiful Wednesday morning. Katie looked up at the blue sky with its fat scattered white clouds, and followed them to the ever-present wall of mountains just off to the east. They were covered with maple, poplar, beech, and sugar maples in gorgeous reds and bright yellows and golds, the pines and firs holding to their green. Even the browns looked lustrous, magical, a magnificent palette of colors. There was simply no more beautiful a spot in the world than eastern Tennessee in the late fall. It was about fifty-five degrees, just enough nip in the day for her leather jacket. She breathed in the delicious smell of leaves mixed with the smoke from wood-burning fireplaces. Moments like this made Katie wish she could put off winter, with its frigid winds and snow and stripped-down trees.
She kept the engine running as she watched Miles lead Sam and Keely to Minna’s front porch. He leaned down, spoke to both children, and touched each of them-Sam’s arm and Keely’s hair. They both hugged him, then ran to Keely’s grandmother when she opened the front door. Chocolate chip cookies, Katie thought, remembering her excitement when she’d been a kid. She watched the two deputies take their positions, guarding the house with Sam and Keely in it. She made another sweep of the area. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Sam seemed just fine to Katie, thank God. This morning he groused and complained, just like Keely, when Katie had given him oatmeal and not Cheerios, an excellent sign. Miles hadn’t helped when he’d looked at the oatmeal, blinked, and said he’d always thought oatmeal was good for making grout, but not eating. The kids had laughed, and Katie, just smiling, waited, until he took a big spoonful, rolled his eyes and said, “This is the best grout I’ve ever eaten. Here, Sam, take a bite of this.” And Sam had said he loved it, and tried to roll his eyes just like his dad. There’d been laughter at the breakfast table, and that had felt very good. She’d also found herself smiling at Miles for no good reason she could think of.
Sam would see Sheila again today, in the early afternoon, but Sheila had told her and Miles that Sam talked more about Keely now and how he’d stuffed tons of leaves down her shirt. He talked more about Jessborough and Mrs. Miggs at the quilt shop who gave the children peppermints than he did about his kidnapping or about Clancy and Beau. It was a good sign, a very hopeful thing. Sheila was sure he wasn’t holding back. He was a resilient little kid.
He was more than that, Katie thought, much more than that, especially to her, and that wasn’t particularly wise. She got out of her truck and walked up the driveway. All was clear.
When Miles joined her, he said, “I doubt they’ll even give us a thought. Your mom is the best, Katie.” He paused a moment, drew in a deep breath, reached out his hand to touch a vivid gold maple leaf and said, “How much longer will it look like God’s country around here?”
“Another two, three weeks, at most,” she said. “Then the storms start coming. We have snow mostly in February and March. And that’s beautiful, too. But right now? This is perfect.”
He walked automatically to the driver’s side of Katie’s Silverado, then stopped, frowning.
“No, go ahead and drive.” She tossed him the keys.
He saw the lock box on the floor in the back that held her rifle, the rifle she’d used to save Sam.
He said as he fastened his seat belt, “Those two deputies, they’re good?”
She nodded, feeling exactly what he was feeling. “Cole and Jeffrey will really keep their eyes open. They both saw what happened at my house when Clancy and Beau went down, so they know this is way out of the ordinary. They’re so wired, in fact, I told them to stick to decaf. This was the first time either of them had been involved in any real violence professionally.”
“What kind of training do your deputies get?”
“They all have a ten-week training course at the law enforcement academy in Donelson, near Nashville. My people have also taken courses at the local junior college-Walters State, you know, law enforcement and judicial courses. Wade is trying to get so many courses under his belt that-well, never mind.”
“Is he the one who might be trying to get your job?”
She gave him a sunny smile. “No chance of that.”
Miles liked that smile of hers, and the mouth that made those smiles, and that gave him pause. He didn’t have to move the seat back much at all. He looked over at her, an eyebrow arched. “What do you mean they haven’t seen violence? Violence is part of their job, isn’t it?”
Katie laughed. “Jessborough isn’t Knoxville or Chattanooga. The toughest thing any of them has had to do here in the sheriff’s department of Jessborough is round up Mr. Bailey’s cows after they were spooked by a low-flying crop duster in August. This is a small town with very few bad outside influences. No hard drugs, just some pot our locals grow, and an occasional still deep in the hills, which is kind of a tradition around here. Most people consider that good clean fun.” She paused a moment, looked out the window, and said, “We had nothing but peace here until this happened. I have ten deputies, all of them men. The testosterone has been flowing madly since I got Sam on Saturday.”