“I’m glad you’re not gay,” Savich said. “What? You really think
this other guy is jealous of Adam here?”
Becca nodded. “Yes, and it’s so stupid really. This is a life-and-death
situation. Who would ever think of jealousy or sex at a time
like this? That’s just nuts.”
“That’s right,” Sherlock said. “No one would. Right, Dillon?”
“That’s exactly what I would have said,” Savich said.
Adam watched Savich slip the SIG back into its shoulder holster.
Well, shit. All right, maybe the two of them could help. He’d wait
and see what they did before he said anything more.
Becca said, “Adam is drinking a diet Dr Pepper since I don’t
have any brandy to help him get over the shock of being wounded.
Ice or lime in yours?”
Savich grinned at her. “Give me a goodly amount of lime and
then Sherlock and I will go out and buy some brandy.” He then
looked long at her. He wanted to tell her that her father was worried
sick about her, that she looked a lot like him, that, when this
was all over, he would come into her life for the very first time. But
for now, Savich couldn’t say anything at all. They’d promised
Thomas Matlock that they’d keep him in the shadows until the
mess was all cleared up. Thomas had said, “Until I can be certain
that Krimakov is really dead, I just can’t take the chance. And for
me to believe that, really believe it all the way to my gut, I’ve got
to see a photo of him lying on a slab in a Greek morgue.”
Sherlock had said, “But if he’s not dead, sir, and he is orchestrating
all this, then he already knows about Becca and is trying to terrorize
her with the ultimate goal of getting to you through her.”
Thomas had said, “I know only enough to scare myself spitless,
Sherlock. I just want to keep a lid on all of this until I’m certain. In
the meantime, I want to keep her hidden from all the cops and the
FBI because I’m certain that they can’t protect her from this stalker.”
Becca said over her shoulder as she led them into the kitchen,
“Before anyone comes over, you’ve got to tell me who you are and
why you’re here. As I told you, Adam’s cover is that he’s my gay
cousin.”
Adam said as he cocked the soda can at Savich, “You want to be
her other gay cousin?”
“Then what would that make me?” Sherlock said. “I can’t keep
my hands off him. That would blow the cover right off.”
“Maybe we’ll be your friends, Adam. I know quite a bit about
you and your background. You and I went to school together, how
about that?” Savich said.
“Then what the hell are you doing in Riptide, Maine?”
Sherlock took a glass of soda from Becca, sipped it, and said,
“We’re here because of that skeleton that fell out of your basement
wall, Becca. You guys wanted some help, and since we live in
Portsmouth, it wasn’t tough for us to get up here.”
“How do you know where I went to school?” Adam said, his
eyes dark and hard on Savich’s face.
MAX gave me most of your particulars. It took him a while
longer to find out about all your other activities. You went to Yale.
No problem. Did we crew?”
Well, damn, Adam thought, it was a good idea. “Yeah,” he said.
We did crew. We also beat Harvard, that bunch of pissy little
wimps.”
Sherlock wondered why Adam Carruthers didn’t want her or
Dillon there. Didn’t he realize that they could help? The stalker was
here in Riptide, he’d tried to kill them.
Sherlock gave Adam a sunny smile. “Why don’t we go look in
the woods and try to uncover a trail for this guy?”
“Yeah,” Savich said, rising. “Then we need to figure out why he
would want to kill Becca like this. It doesn’t make sense. He’s into
terrorizing her. Why just shoot her and end it all? He’d have no
more fun.”
“Good question,” Becca said. “We haven’t had time to think