The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 1-5 - Catherine Coulter [330]
They had the Jeep washed when they stopped for lunch in Rappahoe, a small town just off the 70. No one was following them as best Ramsey could tell.
“How’s your leg?”
“Stiffening up on me,” he said, taking a big bite of his hamburger. He closed his eyes as he chewed. When he swallowed, he groaned and said, “Fat. There’s nothing better in life.”
“I heard my dad say that sex was the best thing in life,” Emma said, and chewed on a French fry coated with catsup.
“I think kittens and little girls are about the two best things,” Molly said without skipping a beat.
He admired her for that. He himself was aware that his mouth had dropped open.
“Did you bring my kite, Ramsey?”
“Oh yes. This kid’s a pro,” he added to Molly, who’d taken all of one spoonful of her vegetable soup. “You taught her, didn’t you?”
She nodded, picked up her spoon, and began stirring the soup. There was a film of grease over the top. She dropped the spoon and took a slice of white bread. She spread butter and jam on it. At least she was eating that.
“Ramsey, two guys just came in. They’re looking over here. One of them has a rifle.”
* * *
MELISSA Shaker watched her father move smoothly and steadily on the rowing machine. She wanted to tell him that he looked really good for a guy his age, that he should hang around in jock T-shirts and shorts. The minute he dressed in one of his expensive Savile Row suits, he looked faintly ridiculous. The bottom line was, he looked like a thug, really. The more expensive the clothes, the more they seemed to reduce him to a stereotype of a Hollywood movie Mafia character. But strip her old man down, and he looked just fine.
She said, “I noticed that you’ve stopped taking Eleanor around to the clubs.”
He grunted, never missing his rhythmic pull, release, pull, release. “Yeah, she’s so classy she makes me look like a bodyguard.”
She blinked at that. She didn’t realize he’d known. Eleanor, classy?
He continued after a moment, his voice smooth and calm, despite his exertion, “The younger, the more beautiful the girl, the more like a gargoyle I look.”
Melissa laughed. “You’re right, but I wouldn’t have said it out loud. I saw you with a really beautiful girl out by the swimming pool the other day. You were wearing a bikini and so was she. You looked better than she did. Just wear shorts, Dad, and you’ll look great.”
He grunted, slowly easing down on his speed. This was his cooldown. He’d been on the rowing machine for forty minutes. Sweat was dripping off him and his muscles were pumped and glistening. If he hadn’t been her father, she would have at least looked him over.
The phone rang. He said without looking up, “Answer it, but don’t say anything.”
She did. When she handed him the phone, he’d finally come to a halt. He was breathing just a bit on the fast side. He listened, then said, “What’s the status?”
He listened. Melissa wished she could pick up the extension. She walked over to the weight rack and picked up two five-pound free weights. She began to do bicep curls.
She turned only when she heard him place the phone back into the cradle. He said, “It shouldn’t be long now. We’ll get three for the price of one.”
“I wish it could be different.”
He looked at her closely, doing the slow bicep curls, like pulling through water, just as he’d taught her. “No you don’t. You enjoy all this crap. But I promised you. You know I always keep my promises.”
She put down the free weights and walked to him. She hugged him close, not caring that he was sweaty. “Thanks, Daddy. I know. I appreciate it.”
He lightly pushed her away and toweled himself off. “You’re a good girl, Mellie, but sometimes you get strange ideas.” He raised his hand. “No, it’s okay. It keeps life interesting.”
Rule Shaker was whistling when he walked into the huge shower stall in the marble bath off his private gym.
8
“EMMA, KEEP YOUR head down and eat your French fries. Molly, don’t go for your gun, listen to me. I want you and Emma to