Kitabı oku: «Cowboy Delirium», sayfa 2

Chapter Three

Jaime jerked free of Rio’s grasp and stumbled away from him, bracing herself to fight him off. Not that she could. She’d have never broken free at all if he hadn’t intentionally loosened his grip on her arm.

The physical advances didn’t come. Instead the man stood with his back against the closed bedroom door. “Don’t worry,” he said. “All I want from you, Jaime Collingsworth, is a few answers.”

Relief left her weak, but tension still crackled in the stuffy, dimly lit room. He knew her name. That didn’t surprise her. “I thought you had all the answers.”

“I’m working on it. Tell me about your family.”

“What about them?”

“Are they wealthy?”

“No,” she quipped. “They’re dirt poor and mean. Rattlesnake mean.”

“So that’s where you get your winning personality. Let’s start over and this time, stick to the truth.”

“Why, because you’ll do something drastic like kidnap me and lock me up in a filthy, disgusting room if I lie?”

“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I’d like to keep you safe.”

She studied the man she’d first considered a hunk. In any other situation, she would have found him attractive in a rugged, risky sort of way. His jawline was craggy, his physique muscular without having the exaggerated features of a body builder.

He was taller than Buerto by a good four inches, which put him well over six feet. His short, thick hair was blue-black, like midnight on a moonless night.

But it was his eyes, the color of rich cognac, piercing yet shadowed with mysterious incongruities, that got to her the most. They tempted her to believe there really might be more than evil lurking behind those burning depths.

She couldn’t afford that luxury.

“The other men called you Rio. Is that your real name or just an alias?”

“It’s my name. Tell me about your brothers,” he coaxed. “Are they in politics?”

“Yes, and they’re very influential. They probably have every Texas Ranger, cop and trooper in the state looking for you right now.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. And lying to me isn’t helping your cause.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Not think. Know. Chalk it up to my experience with conniving enemies.”

Jaime sucked in a deep breath, determined not to play into this man’s hands. “If you know so little about me, why did you kidnap me? Did you follow Buerto and me from the restaurant?”

“Is Buerto your husband?”

“Yes.”

“And I guess you always kiss your husband good night at the door after you’ve gone out for the evening?”

She sucked in a ragged breath. This was getting her nowhere.

Rio walked across the room and approached the bed. Her heart plummeted and dread sucked the breath from her lungs. She backed away until her body was against the wall.

Rio jerked back the faded quilt, tossing it to the foot of the metal bed. “Mattress is garbage but the sheets look clean enough,” he noted.

They looked dingy and disgusting to her. But they’d do, as long as she was the only one crawling between them.

He stepped past her and peered into the bathroom. “I’ll see if I can find you a bar of soap and a towel and washcloth. If you need anything else or change your mind about cooperating with me, knock on the door. I’ll hear you. That offer is just between the two of us. Tell Luke anything I tell you in confidence and I swear I’ll stand back and let him have his way with you.”

So the actions in front of Luke had been for her protection. Either he found her undesirable himself or else he wasn’t entirely evil. If it was the latter, maybe she could make that work for her.

If it was the former…

Well, who cared that a brute found her resistible?

He turned and walked from the room without looking back, but she heard the key turn in the lock before his footfalls faded in the distance.

Anxiety-fed adrenaline still quickened her pulse and churned in her stomach as a legion of more pressing questions took over her mind.

Was Buerto okay and had he told her family? How had her brothers reacted to the news? Were they planning to cooperate with the kidnappers or had they gone straight to the police or maybe the FBI? Was there a mass manhunt already underway?

How was her mother taking the news?

Jaime’s heart constricted at the thought of her mother having to face this kind of worry and fear. She had to find a way to get word to her that she was okay. No, she had to find a way to escape.

She’d never overpower her kidnappers. They were simply too muscular and strong. She’d have to outsmart them. That would be difficult with Rio. He was cagey himself and had already shown that he didn’t fall for her lies. If she were to outfox anyone, it would have to be Luke.

She kicked free of her favorite stiletto sandals, for once wishing she’d worn a pair of boring, sensible shoes. Instead she was stuck in the wilderness dressed for a night on the town. That pretty much eliminated making a run for it through the woods.

Something skittered across her bare toes. She looked down as a giant cockroach paraded along her instep. A scream escaped before she could swallow it back.

Before she regained her equilibrium, her door flew open. Rio stormed in as the frightened roach scurried over the bare wooden slats.

He dropped the soap and towels on the bed and stamped on the insect with his booted foot, leaving it a mass of squishy pulp on her floor. This time his lips drew into a half smile.

“Nice to know you’re afraid of something, Jaime Collingsworth.”

RIO PACED THE BARE FLOORS, almost subconsciously familiarizing himself with the accompanying groans and squeaks. He’d been totally unprepared for the abduction and that concerned him. His BUDs training had prepared him to deal with anything thrown at him, but his years of experience as a frogman had fine-tuned his senses and ability to read even ambiguous clues with precision.

Yet he hadn’t suspected the kidnapping.

Still he was convinced that tonight’s act was only a prelude to something a lot bigger.

But what?

He needed information on Jaime and the rest of the Collingsworths if he were to figure that out. Jaime clearly wasn’t going to just buy his good-guy act and spill any helpful details. He’d have to find enough privacy to make a phone call.

Rio stepped into the dark, narrow hallway, pausing at Jaime’s door. The sounds of her rhythmic breathing indicated she’d finally fallen asleep. The unwanted image of her tanned, shapely body stretched out on top of the worn sheets burrowed into his mind. His body reacted as if he’d swallowed a handful of jalapeños.

He shook his head, but the erotic visions didn’t budge. Instead they became more distinct. He imagined his fingers tangling in her silky hair, disheveling the blond strands as his lips explored the smooth column of her neck.

Tiptoeing away from her door, he checked on Luke. He was still snoring away, his bare feet sticking out of the tangled sheets of one of the twin beds.

The guy was impulsive, with a quick temper that exploded with little warning. Worse, he was never far from the trigger of his Glock. Nothing like an untimed explosion to foul up a mission.

Rio retraced his path to the kitchen and then stepped onto the back porch, careful to step over gaps left by rotted boards. The lake was only a few yards behind the house, but the towering pines hid it from view. That was no doubt part of the reason the cabin had been chosen as a hideaway. It was virtually invisible from the front or the back until you were right on it.

He walked a few yards of the overgrown path toward the water, then stepped behind the trunk of an aged oak tree. Out of sight and too far away to be overheard if Luke did wake and venture out to look for him, yet close enough he could hear Jaime if she screamed—over a roach or worse.

Bending, he removed the small phone from inside his left boot, his fingers brushing the handle of the hunting knife that rested there in its twin leather sheath. Neither Poncho nor Luke suspected he had this completely private and untraceable mobile device on him.

He placed the call, knowing there would be an almost instant response even at this time of the night. He wasn’t disappointed.

“What’s up?”

“Trouble.”

“Specifics?”

“I’ve just helped kidnap a woman named Jaime Collingsworth. I’m guessing she’s connected to Collingsworth Oil.”

“You kidnapped Jaime Collingsworth?” A few curses punctuated the incredulity in his tone.

“I take it that means you know who she is.”

“I was good friends with her brother Langston back when we were riding the high school rodeo circuit. Jaime was just a kid then, but I met her on several occasions. And not only do the Collingsworths own Collingsworth Oil, they also have the second biggest ranch in Texas.”

So the cartel had taken a major risk in kidnapping Jaime—meaning they expected a bonanza from this. And Rio had ended up right in the middle of it, exactly where he’d hoped to be. Only he hadn’t been counting on Jaime to complicate matters.

Rio gathered all the facts he could from the phone call. By the time he’d broken the connection and walked back to the cabin, his head was reeling with the new information, but none of the confusion had been cleared.

He still needed answers and the rest would have to come from the sexy blond spitfire who seemed less afraid of him than she was a cockroach. Every path in sight was mined.

But he’d signed on to do a job. And with a frogman, even a former one, failure was never an option.

IT RAINED SOMETIME during the night, a steady downpour that cleared the pollen from the air and then gave way to the brilliant glow of the morning sun. Even filtered through the layers of grime that smudged the cabin’s windows, the rays painted the dingy kitchen in golden streams of light.

Rio checked out the refrigerator for food while Luke sat at the marred kitchen table scratching the toes of his right foot. Jaime was still in her room, though Rio had unlocked it a good half hour ago and told her she was welcome to come out for coffee.

The options for food were limited, but better than Rio had expected. “How about toast, bacon and eggs?” he asked.

“I could go for that,” Luke agreed, finally reaching for his sock, “but I say make the broad cook it. Cooking’s woman’s work.”

“Easy to see why you’re not married.”

“I’m serious. I don’t see why she should just get to lie around all day while we wait on her.”

“She didn’t exactly plan the party.” Rio took a skillet from the dishes he’d washed earlier that morning. With roaches and who knows what other insects and rodents scampering about, detergent and hot water seemed a good idea. He placed the bacon in it and put it over a low fire, then started spreading butter on bread for toast.

Soft footfalls sounded in the hall. He turned around just as Jaime stepped inside the kitchen door.

“There’s coffee,” Rio said, his eyes riveted to the petite, but shapely woman who showed little signs of the stress she had to be feeling.

Her wraparound dress was wrinkled, but hugged her perky breasts and firm, round buttocks provocatively. She’d shed the jewelry and the sexy heels. Her bare feet and freshly scrubbed face made her look almost waiflike. Her hair, which had been up last night, was down, the strawberry-blond locks tumbling around her shoulders. Disheveled. Tempting.

“I’d like to take a shower,” she said. “Or isn’t there one in this disgusting place?”

“There’s one,” Rio said, “but it’s not working. The water’s a bit cold in the lake, but I’ll walk you down there after breakfast if you’d like to bathe.”

Luke leered at her. “I’ll take care of that chore.”

She shot him a castrating look. “I’d sooner wallow in mud.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun, too.”

Rio filled a clean mug with coffee and handed it to her. “There’s sugar on the counter and milk in the fridge if you want it.”

“No, this is fine,” she murmured. “Thanks.”

There was a pause before the last word, as if it was added as an afterthought. He hoped that meant she was coming around to the point where she might cooperate with him, but he wouldn’t hold his breath waiting for that.

“How do you like your eggs?” he asked.

“Why ask her?” Luke quipped. “She ought to be cooking for us, if the princess knows how to scramble an egg.”

Jaime marched across the kitchen, planted herself in front of the grease-stained range and grabbed the carton of eggs. She broke two into the small skillet and then glared at Luke. “How much arsenic do you want in yours?”

“You got a smart mouth on you, you know that? I want them over easy, and don’t break the yolks.”

Rio removed a pan of toast from beneath the broiler and watched as she deliberately pricked the first yolk and let the yellow run to the edges of the skillet. If they made it through breakfast without a major flare-up between her and Luke he’d be surprised—and relieved.

He didn’t put anything beyond Luke, especially if Jaime pushed him. He’d as soon rape her as not. The way he was looking at her right now evidenced the thought was already festering in his mind.

When the eggs were ready, Jaime slid them onto a plate, sprinkled them generously with salt and pepper and then tossed a couple of slices of toast next to them. “Jelly?” she asked, eyeing a large jar of strawberry preserves.

“Sure, sweetheart. Why not?” Luke said, smiling. “And I want you to sit with me while I eat. Right here,” he said, patting his right knee. “We need to get to know each other better.”

Her expression was one of fury, but her hands were steady as she opened the jar and spooned a large helping of the sticky condiment onto the plate next to the eggs. Padding across the floor determinedly, she stopped inches from Luke.

Luke patted his knee again. Jaime smiled. Rio’s muscles hardened into bulging knots as he braced himself for trouble. Jaime took the last step and then tripped, falling against the table as the plate dropped from her hands and landed upside down in Luke’s lap.

Curses flew from Luke’s mouth as he leapt from the chair and grabbed her arm. “You bitch. You did that on purpose.”

She tilted her head back and stared at him defiantly.

Luke fit one hand around her smooth neck, letting his fingers dig into the flesh. “Lick it off,” he demanded. “Every drop. Lick it off.” He pushed her face into the sugary mound of red preserves that clung to his jeans.

Jaime’s knee jerked upward, connecting with Luke’s groin, and this time the man went totally berserk. Rio flew across the room, reaching them just in time to stop Luke’s fist before it slammed into Jaime’s jaw.

He shoved Luke against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving that tramp what she deserves. You saw what she did.”

“That tramp is the reason we’re here. Mess her up and you’ll answer to Poncho. We both will. Is that what you want?”

“Poncho or not, I’m not taking that off no woman.”

“She dropped a plate. That’s all.”

Luke muttered a new string of curses. “She didn’t drop it. She dumped it on me.”

“So get over it. We got a job to do and it doesn’t include roughing up the victim. You could get carried away and blow the whole ransom deal. You know what that will get you.”

The fight slowly went out of Luke. His muscles quit straining and his fists relaxed. By the time Rio let go of him, smoke was filling the room. Rio hurried to turn off the fire under the skillet.

And then he noticed that Jaime was nowhere in sight. Damn. In that split second when he was dealing with Luke, she must have made a getaway. But she was barefoot. She couldn’t have gotten far.

He rushed toward the back door and caught sight of a wave of blue fabric weaving through the trees. He took off running, the pine straw skidding from beneath his feet, low limbs from scraggly trees tearing at his shirt.

If she escaped, he could kiss goodbye any chance of continuing to be a player. He made a dive for her as she skirted the muddy banks of the lake. They both went down in a tangle of arms, legs and wild locks of blond hair.

Jaime lay beneath him, facedown and spewing clumps of damp earth from her mouth. He rolled her to her back, straddled her and pinned her hands above her head to keep her from fighting him.

Her dress hung off one shoulder, revealing a mound of perfect flesh and a deep reddish-pink nipple that stared him in the face.

His body hardened and desire engulfed him in blistering waves. He rolled off her, leaving her short dress to bunch at her waist. A few wayward blond hairs peeked from beneath the wisp of black lace pantie.

He groaned, but kept her pinned to the earth. A man could only take so much.

Chapter Four
Jaime’s heart pounded and her breath came in painful gasps.

“You’re not making this easy,” Rio said, staring into her eyes, his voice suddenly hoarse.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Please, don’t.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

His words were all but drowned out by the sound of someone running in their direction. Luke. He’d been slower than Rio, but he was mere steps away now.

Rio let go of one of her arms and quickly tugged the shoulder of her dress back into place so that it covered her breast, his thumb brushing the tip of her nipple as he did. His muscles seemed to tense at the touch, but he didn’t linger. By the time Luke reached them, he’d pulled her skirt back in place so that she was completely covered.

“I see you found the runaway princess,” Luke said, his breathing still heavy as he almost stumbled over them.

“No thanks to you,” Rio snapped.

Luke’s face twisted into a scowl. “Don’t go laying the blame on me. She’d have never escaped in the first place if you hadn’t been acting like some macho hero.”

“I’ve just got better sense than to damage the merchandise before we’re paid for it.”

Luke spit in the dirt, the phlegm falling mere inches from Jaime’s head. Her stomach turned, but this time she bit back the angered sarcasm that flew to her tongue.

She had to play this smarter. Angering Luke wasn’t going to speed her escape or help her stay alive until her brothers could rescue her.

“Go back to the house,” Rio ordered. “I’ve got unfinished business with the princess.”

“You’re not my boss.”

“Damn good thing.”

“And you don’t own the woman.”

Rio laid a hand on Jaime possessively, his thumbs resting just below her breasts. Luke lingered, staring at her as if he could see right through the wrinkled dress before leering contemptuously and ambling back toward the house.

Rio’s gaze followed Luke until he’d completely disappeared in the trees. He exhaled slowly and scooted away from Jaime, letting go of her entirely.

“I can’t say much for the company you keep,” Jaime said.

“I didn’t do the choosing.”

“You’re here.”

“I do what I have to.”

“Then just let me go,” she pleaded. “I’ll pay you and you won’t have to split the ransom with anyone.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“It could.” But it was clear he wasn’t buying and what he did say didn’t make a lot of sense. “How much ransom did you ask for?”

“Can’t say.”

“Because you let those stupid thugs call all the shots?”

“For now, except with you. I’ll be calling the shots with you, and if you’ve got a brain in that pretty little head of yours, you’ll listen. Rule number one, don’t try anything stupid like that feeble escape attempt again.”

Not until she got half a chance.

Rio moved into a sitting position and tugged her up to do the same. “We need to talk, Jaime.”

“I’ve told you all I plan to about my brothers. You may collect a ransom, but you’ll never live to enjoy it. They’ll hunt you down and—”

“I know about your siblings. Your oldest brother Langston is CEO of Collingsworth Oil. Your brothers Matt and Bart run Jack’s Bluff Ranch. Your brother Zach is in law enforcement. Your sister, Becky, is married to Nick Ridgely, former Dallas Cowboy star.”

Just as she expected. The kidnappers knew her situation all too well. She hadn’t been a random hit.

“Who’s the black sheep of the family?” Rio asked.

“We don’t have one. We leave the dirty dealings to people like you.”

“Every family has a backslider, maybe one who’s involved with dealing drugs. That pays really well these days, I’m told. A huge, respectable ranch might be just the place to stash a shipment from Mexico.”

Fury fired through her. One minute she could almost convince herself to trust Rio. The next, she ached to slap him hard across that rugged, handsome face. “How dare you accuse my brothers of something so despicable!”

“I’m just asking.”

“I’m through talking to you.” She stood, yanking her dress down to cover as much thigh as she could. “Now I’m going to walk down to that lake and wash the mud off me. You do as you please.”

He smiled for the first time since he’d tackled her to the ground. “Is that an invitation?”

For some stupid reason, she felt heat rush to her cheeks. She turned so Rio wouldn’t see her blush.

“You don’t need an invitation. You have the gun. But don’t think I’d ever welcome your touch, not if you were the only man left on earth.” She stamped away without looking back.

She could hear Rio following her, and turned when she reached the water’s edge. He’d stopped a few yards from her and leaned against a tree, giving her space. He looked relaxed, cocky. More like a sexy protector than a villain who held her life in his hands.

Probably all part of his diabolical plan, she told herself. He expected her to trust him because he didn’t force himself on her and protected her from Luke’s perverted advances. She had to find a way to escape, but outsmarting Rio might be impossible.

That left Luke. He was totally disgusting and she wouldn’t put anything past him. But it was clear he was the weaker of the two both mentally and physically. If she was going to escape, it would have to be on his watch.

Heaven help her if she failed and was left at his mercy alone.

ZACH ARRIVED BACK at the hospital at ten before ten in the morning, parked in a space reserved for law enforcement and bolted up the stairs to the ICU waiting room where he and his brothers and sister were to meet with the doctor.

Langston, Bart and Becky had been there since they’d followed the ambulance to the hospital last night. Matt had stayed at the big house in case there was a call from the kidnappers. So far there hadn’t been.

Zach had been on the move, investigating the crime scene on his own and combing police records for cons who met the descriptions Buerto had given them. He was no closer to a lead on who had abducted Jaime.

Langston saw Zach enter the waiting room and motioned him to the far left corner of the room where they’d staked claim to a group of chairs. “The doctor’s with Mother now. He’ll see us as soon as he comes out.”

“Glad I made it in time. Have you seen Mom since we last talked?”

“They let me go in for a couple of minutes,” Becky said. “The nurse thought I might calm her.” Her voice lowered. “Even drugged, she’s restless and jerky, and there was nothing I could say to change that.”

Zach leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Did she ask about Jaime?”

“No. She’s still drifting in and out of sleep from the drugs they’re giving her, but the nurse said she’d called out Jaime’s name when she was sleeping. I’m sure that as soon as she’s fully alert, she’ll demand answers.”

Zach wished to hell they had some. “As soon as the doctor finishes with us, we have to find a place to talk in private.”

Bart nodded. “I’m for that. I think we should reconsider our current strategy.”

They’d agreed to hold off on calling in the cops or the FBI until they heard the kidnappers’ demands, but no one had expected the wait to be this long.

Zach’s phone rang. The group grew instantly quiet, though there was no real reason to think the kidnappers had his cell number. He answered.

“Buerto,” he said out loud, so that they would know to whom he was talking. They stared at him, their anxiety tangible.

“I’ve heard from the kidnappers,” Buerto said.

“Why did they call you?”

“I guess because I was with her when they abducted her.”

“What did they say?”

“It would be better if we could talk about this in person.”

”I’m at the hospital waiting to talk to Mom’s cardiologist.”

“I’m already on my way to the ranch, so I can be at the hospital in about fifteen minutes, twenty at the most.”

“I don’t see the point in waiting that long.”

“Can you talk freely?”

“I can listen.”

“Not good enough. The deal they want is complicated.”

Zach’s irritation level skyrocketed. The kidnappers should have come directly to the family. Where did they get off dealing with some guy who was a stranger to all of them?

“Call me the second you arrive at the hospital.”

“Naturally,” Buerto answered and then quickly broke the connection. Zach returned his phone to the clip at his waist.

“Contact?” Langston asked, carefully choosing his words so that no one outside the family would know they were talking about a kidnapping.

“Yeah. Through Buerto. He’s on his way here right now.”

“Why call him?” Becky asked, her question echoing his own. “He’s not family.”

Doctor Gathrite joined them before Zach was forced to admit he had no answer to that question.

“There’s a small conference room down the hall we can use,” the doctor said. “It will be more private there.”

They followed him to a room that smelled of stale coffee. The furniture was limited to a half dozen metal folding chairs and a table barely big enough for the five of them to squeeze around. A counter on the back wall held a coffee maker that had long since finished brewing.

Dr. Gathrite stood back for them to enter, then offered coffee, which only Langston accepted. The cardiologist settled in a chair at the head of the table.

Zach found a spot to stand against the side wall. He was too keyed up to sit.

“Do you have the results of the tests, Doctor?” Becky asked.

“We do, at least enough to make a few diagnostic assessments. The good news is there’s no significant blockage in the arteries that feed the heart and no sign of a blood clot.”

“I don’t understand,” Bart said. “If there’s no blockage, what caused the coronary attack?”

“The attack appears to have been caused by a sudden spasm, one so intense that it cut off the blood flow through the artery. That’s far less common than an attack brought on by cardiovascular disease or a clot, but it sometimes happens in otherwise heart-healthy individuals.”

Langston set his coffee cup on the table in front of him. “Then you think her heart attack was brought on by stress?”

“There are factors other than emotional or physical trauma that can cause a spasm, such as certain drugs or exposure to extreme weather conditions. But, yes, in your mother’s case, the evidence points to stress.”

Becky clasped her hands in front of her. “How much damage was there to her heart?”

“You can count your blessings there, too,” Dr. Gathrite said. “The permanent damage is minimal. The issue now is having her avoid any additional emotional trauma.”

Which was basically impossible unless they were able to arrange Jaime’s safe return quickly. Zach only half listened to the rest of the doctor’s spiel and the details of treatment. Zach’s concern for his mother was a given, but the only way he could help her, or Jaime, was to acquire Jaime’s safe release.

His cell phone vibrated and he checked the caller ID. Buerto. Zach excused himself and went into the hall to take the call.

Langston followed him. “This is a family dilemma, Zach. Bart, Matt and I will be with you when you meet with Buerto.”

He clapped his oldest brother on the back. “I never doubted for a minute that you would.”

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON BEFORE Jaime heard from either of her kidnappers again, though she could hear them talking through the thin walls. Occasionally she heard a door slam or Luke’s snorting laugh.

She’d tried her door a couple of times, but it was locked tight. And the boards that had been nailed over the window wouldn’t budge. She’d need something on the order of a pickax to remove them. If she ever got outside this room again, she’d snoop to see what kind of tools she could find.

Finally, Rio opened the door and ordered her out to eat. She followed him to the kitchen. Luke lay on the sofa, his bare feet hanging over the edge. His gun was on a homemade coffee table instead of tucked inside his shoulder holster. It was the only good sign.

“I made you a sandwich,” Rio said, pushing a plate toward her. “It’s not much, but it will keep you going.”

She washed her hands at the kitchen sink and returned to the table, choosing a chair that made it easy to watch Luke and the gun. It was almost as if he were taunting her with it, deliberately tempting her to steal it.

The sandwich was a couple of slices of white bread smeared with a spicy mustard and wrapped around a piece of tasteless luncheon meat. She chewed and choked it down with a sip of lukewarm bottled water.

The two men barely spoke to each other as she ate, but when they did, the growing tension between them crackled like flames in a pile of dry leaves. Had she caused or merely added to the friction? She suspected it was the latter.

Luke looked disgustingly disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and stained from the breakfast she’d dumped in his lap. The underarms of his shirt were circled with perspiration. A glob of what looked to be dried mustard stuck to the stubble of whiskers on his chin.