B. and the president of my bank, all waiting for the final curtain, hoping someone would tell us how the play finally ended. Except Bobby asked me to stay close. And while Shelby didn’t actually say anything, the way she looked at me prompted my inner voice to repeat the words she spoke earlier—I need all my men to be strong. Honsa thought it was a good idea, too. “It’s possible that the kidnappers want more from you than just money,” he said. That’s why I was in the Dunston home early the next morning when Honsa’s cell phone rang. “Godammit!” Honsa said. His reassuring smile disappeared. “Godammit. Where the hell did you get your training? The goddamned CIA?” His outburst caused both Shelby and Bobby to rise from their chairs at the dining room table. They reached for each other the way a tired swimmer reaches for the ladder at the end of a pool. “I apologize,” Honsa said. “That was inappropriate.” “What happened?” Bobby asked. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
