Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
"Is she okay?" Thatcher asked, a worry line between his eyebrows.
"So far. We're going to get her back as fast as we can. And I can't sideline or delay that mission to help your dad no matter how much you love him and want him to be safe. You understand?"
This time, Thatcher didn't try to hide his tears. He let them fall as he nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice rough. "I understand. The little girl is more important."
Kane nodded. "She is. And after her, there'll be another. And another after that. All innocent people hurt by bad guys."
Resigned, Thatcher finished his thought. "And you can't spend time helping a kinda bad guy when you could be helping the good guys."
"Yep."
Kane fell silent. Thatcher's mouth worked as he chewed his lip and thought about that. The idea of his dad as one of the bad guys was impossible to refute and so painful to take in.
"Hey, Thatch," Tenn said, turning in his seat to meet Thatcher's eyes. "Remember this—your Dad made some bad choices, but in the end, he was looking out for you. All that stuff he said about you being a pain in the ass, you know he was trying to get you somewhere safe, right?"
Thatcher gave a weak smile. "Well, I am kind of a pain in the ass sometimes."
Tenn raised his eyebrows. "You mean eating all the time and jonesing for your gaming console? That's just being a teenager. He doesn't care about that stuff. He loves you. He wanted you safe. He made some bad decisions, but that doesn't make him a bad guy or mean he doesn't love you, you know? Sometimes, we get in over our heads and there aren't any good choices. But when it came down to it, he tried to get you and your mom somewhere safe."
"Yeah," Thatcher said, turning this over in his mind.
I sat up and reached out to squeeze Tenn's shoulder in thanks. He caught my hand, turning it in his, and kissed my palm. My heart squeezed with love and my eyes flicked to the clock. The road was clear and we were flying, well above the speed limit, but the clock continued to roll ahead, time draining away.
I had a terrible feeling we'd already used all of our good luck.
Grabbing a jacket I'd thrown in the car just in case, I bundled it into a pillow on my lap. Patting it, I said to Thatcher, "Why don't you put your head down and take a nap. We won't get to Knoxville for a few hours."
I wasn't sure he'd take me up on the suggestion. Thatcher could be stubborn as hell. I couldn't complain since he got it from me. All the stress of the last week showed in the instant he said, "Yeah, okay," tugged at his seatbelt to loosen it, and slumped to the side, putting his head on the makeshift pillow.
The position was awkward, his legs too long to stretch out. He jammed his feet under Tenn's seat, settled in, and closed his eyes. I ran my fingers lightly through his hair, noting the film of grease. Typical of both Thatch and his dad to forget about basic stuff like showering. I guess life on the run doesn't lend itself to good grooming. We'd worry about that later.
First, we had to get back to Heartstone Manor before time ran out. I loved Tenn too much to be the reason he lost his legacy.
Chapter Thirty-Five
SCARLETT
Thatcher fell asleep within minutes. I kept watch on the clock and the road. Tenn did the same. So far, so good. Kane drove with clean precision and a sixth sense for lurking police cars. Every time he slowed to just above the speed limit, we invariably passed an officer in hiding, his radar gun at the ready.
Knoxville grew ever closer. I tried not to stress. We had Thatcher. We were going to make it home on time. The Learys were focused on Elliott. They wouldn't come after us in Sawyers Bend. Then why was I so uneasy? Was it that we might not get back to Heartstone Manor in time?
I stared out the window, watching the trees fly by, and tried to examine my roiling emotions. I was mostly stressing because of the deadline, I realized. And beneath that worry was a tangled ball of smaller worries.
All this time, I'd been focused on finding Thatcher and getting him free of Elliott's problems. Well, I had him. What now? Did I keep looking for the bust of Vitellius? If I didn't need to search for the bust anymore, I didn't need to stay at Heartstone.
Though, that part might be up to the police chief. As far as I knew, West didn't have any suspects for Vanessa's murder. More importantly, he didn't have much evidence. If he didn't have any leads, then anything I remembered wouldn't make me a threat to the killer. And if that was the case, I was free to go.