Saving Faith By: David Baldacci

the FBI decoder ring and free T-shirt?”

“Why are you being such a smartass about this?”

“Maybe I don’t give a shit anymore, Brooke. You’re a smart lady,

didn’t that one ever occur to you?”

Neither said a word for the next couple of miles.

“If it were up to me, you’d get anything you wanted, including your own

island somewhere with servants, but it’s not up to me,” Reynolds

finally said.

He shrugged. “I’ll take my chances. If they want to come after me, so

be it. They’ll find me a little tougher bite than they think.”

“Isn’t there anything I can say to change your mind? “He held up the

flowers. “You can tell me where Faith is.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh, come on, sure you can. You just have to say it.”

“Lee, please-”

He smashed his big fist against the dashboard, cracking it. “Dammit,

Brooke, you don’t understand. I have to see Faith. I have to!”

“You’re wrong, Lee, I do understand. And that’s why this is so hard

for me. But if I tell you and you go to her, that puts her in danger.

And you too. You know that. That breaks all the rules. And I’m not

going to do that. I’m sorry. You don’t know how terrible I feel about

all this.”

Lee laid his head against the back of the seat and the two remained

silent for another several minutes as Reynolds drove aimlessly.

“How is she?” he finally asked quietly.

“I won’t lie to you. That bullet did a lot of damage. She’s

recovering, but slowly. They almost lost her a couple more times along

the way.”

Lee put his hand over his face, slowly shook his head.

“If it’s any consolation, she was as upset as you are about this

arrangement.”

“Boy,” Lee said, “that just makes everything wonderful. I’m the

friggin’ king of the world.”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“You’re really not going to let me see her, are you?”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Then you can drop me at the corner.”

“But your car’s back at the hospital.”

He opened the car door before she came to a stop. “I’ll walk.”

“It’s miles,” Reynolds said, her voice strained. “And it’s freezing

outside. Lee, let me drive you. Let’s go get some coffee. Talk about

this some more.”

“I need the fresh air. And what’s there to talk about? I’m all talked

out. I may never talk again.” He climbed out and then leaned back in.

“You can do something for me.”

“Just name it.”

He handed her the flowers. “Could you see that Faith gets these? I’d

appreciate it.” Lee shut the door and walked off.

Reynolds gripped the flowers and looked at Lee as he trudged away, head

down, hands stuffed in his pockets. She saw his shoulders quiver. And

then Brooke Reynolds lay back against the seat as the tears trickled

down her face.

CHAPTER 59

NINE MONTHS LATER LEE WAS STAKING OUT the hideaway townhouse of a man

soon to be involved in an acrimonious divorce proceeding with his

many-times-cheated-on wife. Lee had been hired by the very suspIcious

spouse to collect dirt on her hubby, and it hadn’t taken him long to

fill up bag after bag, as Lee watched a parade of pretty young things

flounce through the premises. The wife wanted a nice-size financial

settlement from the guy, who had about five hundred million bucks’

worth of stock options at some high-tech Internet outfit he had co

founded And Lee was very happy to help her get it. The adulterous

husband reminded him of Eddie Stipowicz, his ex-wife’s billion-dollar

man. Collecting evidence on this guy was a little bit like hurling

rocks at little Eddie’s bloated head.

Lee took out his camera and shot some pictures of a tall, blond,

miniskirted number sauntering up to the townhouse. The photo of the

bare-chested guy standing at the door awaiting her, beer can in hand, a

goofy, lascivious smile on his fat face, would be exhibit numero uno

for the wife’s lawyers. No-fault divorce laws had seriously depressed

the business of PIs running around digging up dirt, but when it came

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