“Sure, buddy. I’ll crank up the sat phone.” He walks back into the bedroom.
“Now come here and brush those teeth—thoroughly.” I kiss Reid’s forehead.
“And wash your face and pits,” Erika yells over from the couch.
“Do I have to?” Reid picks up his toothbrush.
“I’ll find you a washcloth, and you can give yourself a little sponge bath before you put your pajamas on. When you’re done, maybe your dad will be ready.” I find a few towels, reserving a couple for Clint and me, and shut the bathroom door as I walk out.
“Did you figure out why they’re after us?” Erika asks as if she’s asking what I’m going to fix for breakfast.
“Getting closer. Still not sure who.” I ignore the kitchen. Work has a way of killing my appetite.
“Dad’s a really good judge of character.” Erika’s nose is still pressed into the old romance novel.
I freeze as I pick up one of the files. Strange thing for our teen daughter to say.
Erika turns and slides her elbow over the top of the blue corduroy couch. “No, really.” She lowers her voice, glancing at the bedroom as if she’d hate for him to overhear. “At school, he always knows the parents to avoid and has a sense of my friends right away. I usually blow it off, but he’s almost always right.”
“I’m not sure your dad knows any of these folks well enough to render a judgment.” I pick up another page of my notes, Dave’s face swimming into view.
“You might be surprised. He pays attention.” Erika says and then curls back around to continue reading.
51
CLINT WALKS BACKinto the main room with only his cell phone.
“Did you get the hot spot running?” I ask.
“Not a problem. Ready for Reid when he’s done.” Clint lays his phone on the island. “You find a snack?”
“No. I don’t need it.” I glance around the cabin. It’s starting to feel very small. We’ve looked at the data and the contracts every which way. We’re not going to solve this tucked away in the woods. Maybe Clint is right about an email to Betsey. I can just ask her to call me on the sat phone. If I need to show her the contracts, I will. Maybe we can get to the bottom of what she and I both know.
“It’s not about need.”
“What?” I shake my head, realizing he’s still talking about food.
Clint opens a cupboard above the refrigerator. “A snack is not about need.”
“Did you check? Do you know who won?” Erika pops her head back over the couch.
“Nope. I’ll let Reid do the honors.” Clint shifts what looks like a first aid kit and then a small tool bag inside the cabinet.
“You have too much willpower.” Erika flops back down.
“Hardly,” he says and then spins around. “Here you are, my lady.”
“Dark chocolate?” I scowl at the bar in his hand.
“Amano seventy percent.” He hands me the bar with a beautiful rendering of a cacao tree on the wrapper. “Thought you’d be more pleased.”
“I am. Sorry. How do you have this?” I peel open the wrapper, and the thin foil knocks something loose in my brain. My taste buds tingle.
“Actually, Dave.” Clint busies himself in the sink. “He gave us some goodies when we shared our latest business plan.”
I break off a square, not letting its provenance ruin my bite. I slump on the stool and let my eyes close as I savor the smooth bittersweetness.
The bathroom door bangs open. “I’m ready,” Reid announces. “How do I get Wi-Fi?”
