“I thought I heard a sound outside the window when I came in here.”
“You did hear a sound, but it didn’t come from the window.” He pointed
to the doorjamb.
Faith noted the rectangular piece of white plastic attached to the wood
there.
“It’s a sensor. Anybody opens the door to my office, it trips the
sensor and triggers my beeper.” He took the device out of his pocket.
“If I hadn’t had Max to calm down at Mrs. Carter’s, I would’ve been up
here a lot sooner.” He scowled at her. “I don’t appreciate this,
Faith.”
“Hey, I was just looking around, killing time.”
“Interesting choice of words: ‘killing.”
“Lee, I’m not plotting against you. I swear it.”
“Let’s finish packing. Don’t want to keep your bankers waiting.”
Faith avoided looking at the phone again. Lee must not have heard the
message. He had been hired by Buchanan to follow her. Had he killed
the agent last night? When they got on the plane, would he somehow
manage to push her out at thirty thousand feet and laugh riotously
while she plummeted screaming through the clouds?
But he could have killed her at any point from last night to now.
Leaving her dead at the cottage would have been the easiest move.
That’s when it hit her: It would have been the easiest move unless
Danny wanted to know how much she had told the FBI. That would explain
why she was still alive. And also why Lee was so eager to get her to
talk. Once she did, then he would kill her. And here they were flying
off together to a North Carolina beach community that would be largely
deserted this time of year. She slowly walked out of the room, a
condemned woman on the way to her execution.
‘twenty minutes later, Faith closed the small travel bag and slid her
purse strap over her head and onto her shoulder. Lee came into the
bedroom. He had put back on the mustache and beard, and the baseball
cap was gone. In his right hand were his pistol, two boxes of ammo and
his belt holster.
Faith watched as he loaded the items into a special hard-sided
container. “You can’t take a gun on a plane,” she said.
“You’re kidding, really? When did they start that shit?” He closed
the container and locked it, pocketing the keys before looking at her.
“You can take a gun on a plane if you disclose the weapon when you
check in and fill out a declaration form. They ensure that the weapon
is unloaded and in an approved case.” He rapped his knuckles against
the hard-sided aluminum case. “Which it is. They check that the ammo
is a hundred rounds or fewer and is in the manufacturer’s original or
otherwise FAA-approved packaging. Again, I’m cool. Then they mark the
bag with a special tag and it goes to the cargo bay, where it would be
real hard for me to get to if I was thinking about skyjacking the
plane, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Thanks for the explanation,” Faith said curtly.
“I’m not a damn amateur,” he said hotly.
“I never said you were.”
“Right.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” She hesitated, intensely desiring to establish some
sort of truce, for a number of reasons, her survival being chief among
them. “Would you do me a favor?”
He looked at her suspiciously.
“Call me Faith.”
The door buzzer startled them both.
Lee checked his watch. “Little early for visitors.”
Faith watched in amazement as his hands moved like a machine. Within
twenty seconds the pistol was out of the container and fully loaded. He
put the container and the ammo boxes in his small travel bag and
hoisted it over his shoulder. “Get your bag.”
“Who do you think it is?” Faith felt her pulse throbbing in her
ears.
“Let’s go find out.”
They stepped quietly into the hallway and Faith followed Lee to the
front door.
He checked the TV screen. They both saw the man standing there on the
front stoop of the building, a couple of packages in his arms. The
familiar brown uniform was clearly visible. As they watched, he hit