"He betrayed you."
"In a very personal way."
"The merger also explains why they'd go after Ben now," Sam said. "Especially since he was getting ready to leave the foundation."
Sam pulled over about one hundred yards from her drive.
"Where can we hide the car?" he asked.
"Up ahead on the left there's an overgrown orchard and a shack. Nobody lives there. It's actually on Ben's forty acres."
Sam pulled into the orchard. Trees were old and gnarled, with twisted bark and old wounds.
"Hopefully, they're not here yet," she said, speaking of the police.
"A man as pissed off as Frick? You'd be amazed how fast he might get somebody here."
They hurried through the forest as fast as Sam could manage, back across the road, and into the forest again. As they approached Haley's house, they went more slowly. When they saw no one and no police cruisers, Sam hoped it was only moderately dangerous to duck in the back door.
Haley's fax had the FBI memo from Ernie. Actually, it was an excerpt from an FBI memo and parts had obviously been redacted. But it was better than nothing.
They searched through Haley's garage until they found a tarp, then took it back to the car and covered it completely. People would come by the house and there might soon be planes and helicopters flying overhead.
Haley called the dispatcher on her cell phone and explained that Crew had been shot by Frick, not Sam; that the FBI had been notified; and that the FBI would be making a formal request to keep the evidence pristine and out of Frick's hands.
She asked the dispatcher whether the FBI had called, but the dispatcher refused to confirm or deny such a call. When the dispatcher made the obligatory request that Haley and Sam surrender themselves to a deputy, Haley disconnected.
None of it was surprising, since the dispatcher was following normal police procedure.
They weren't in the habit of collaborating with murder suspects.
Minutes later, they arrived on foot at Ben's house, some two hundred yards from Haley's. Sam had Haley hunker down with him in the trees while he checked for company. It was a large, sprawling home, gray with lap siding and white trim, appearing all the more stylish for the rustic nature of its setting. From his own experience during summertime work, he knew that the gardens had been Helen's inspiration and he was reminded of the sweat and the creative eye in all the curves and the shapes in the various plantings and rows. It was a bit blustery and looking like another shower. The breezes made it anything but quiet. Sam let his eye wander carefully by every leaf and every decorative boulder hauled from the beach. He saw nothing moving, save that which could be moved by the wind, but he remembered Crew and worried for Haley. How could he be sure that there was no one lying in wait? Ben's house was an obvious destination.
Sam could see the back patio from this position, but not the front porch. He first moved to the left, checking out the front-yard area and the gardens and the long drive, which approached up a gradual hill. A large porch sat under an overhang. Nothing there.
Now he moved back to the right and circled behind the house, remaining inside a small patch of trees. On the back patio stood two barbecues and flower boxes with a multitude of plants in full color, maintained by hired help. It would be impossible to completely verify that no one was watching.
They would have to take a chance.
Sam motioned to stay low and led Haley as quickly as his leg would allow over the last open ground between them and the house.
Frick had the safecracker back at work on the wall safe in Ben's office. He had regained his composure and now felt calm and confident. When they had the safe open, it would become simple. With Ben's research in hand, he'd be free to find and kill Ben Anderson
—still difficult, but doable—and that would end the matter.
The safe expert had electronic listening devices splayed across the metal
"In a very personal way."
"The merger also explains why they'd go after Ben now," Sam said. "Especially since he was getting ready to leave the foundation."
Sam pulled over about one hundred yards from her drive.
"Where can we hide the car?" he asked.
"Up ahead on the left there's an overgrown orchard and a shack. Nobody lives there. It's actually on Ben's forty acres."
Sam pulled into the orchard. Trees were old and gnarled, with twisted bark and old wounds.
"Hopefully, they're not here yet," she said, speaking of the police.
"A man as pissed off as Frick? You'd be amazed how fast he might get somebody here."
They hurried through the forest as fast as Sam could manage, back across the road, and into the forest again. As they approached Haley's house, they went more slowly. When they saw no one and no police cruisers, Sam hoped it was only moderately dangerous to duck in the back door.
Haley's fax had the FBI memo from Ernie. Actually, it was an excerpt from an FBI memo and parts had obviously been redacted. But it was better than nothing.
They searched through Haley's garage until they found a tarp, then took it back to the car and covered it completely. People would come by the house and there might soon be planes and helicopters flying overhead.
Haley called the dispatcher on her cell phone and explained that Crew had been shot by Frick, not Sam; that the FBI had been notified; and that the FBI would be making a formal request to keep the evidence pristine and out of Frick's hands.
She asked the dispatcher whether the FBI had called, but the dispatcher refused to confirm or deny such a call. When the dispatcher made the obligatory request that Haley and Sam surrender themselves to a deputy, Haley disconnected.
None of it was surprising, since the dispatcher was following normal police procedure.
They weren't in the habit of collaborating with murder suspects.
Minutes later, they arrived on foot at Ben's house, some two hundred yards from Haley's. Sam had Haley hunker down with him in the trees while he checked for company. It was a large, sprawling home, gray with lap siding and white trim, appearing all the more stylish for the rustic nature of its setting. From his own experience during summertime work, he knew that the gardens had been Helen's inspiration and he was reminded of the sweat and the creative eye in all the curves and the shapes in the various plantings and rows. It was a bit blustery and looking like another shower. The breezes made it anything but quiet. Sam let his eye wander carefully by every leaf and every decorative boulder hauled from the beach. He saw nothing moving, save that which could be moved by the wind, but he remembered Crew and worried for Haley. How could he be sure that there was no one lying in wait? Ben's house was an obvious destination.
Sam could see the back patio from this position, but not the front porch. He first moved to the left, checking out the front-yard area and the gardens and the long drive, which approached up a gradual hill. A large porch sat under an overhang. Nothing there.
Now he moved back to the right and circled behind the house, remaining inside a small patch of trees. On the back patio stood two barbecues and flower boxes with a multitude of plants in full color, maintained by hired help. It would be impossible to completely verify that no one was watching.
They would have to take a chance.
Sam motioned to stay low and led Haley as quickly as his leg would allow over the last open ground between them and the house.
Frick had the safecracker back at work on the wall safe in Ben's office. He had regained his composure and now felt calm and confident. When they had the safe open, it would become simple. With Ben's research in hand, he'd be free to find and kill Ben Anderson
—still difficult, but doable—and that would end the matter.
The safe expert had electronic listening devices splayed across the metal
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