They no longer needed a radio to cover their conversations. Gray had installed an acoustic noise generator, placing several transducers throughout the house. The high-tech gizmo produced unfilterable sound that cut the effectiveness of listening devices.
“I believe Dalton when he says Vanessa isn’t well,” Barrie stated.
“Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not defending him, I’m defending my point. Vanessa is ill. Period. Her child’s death exacerbated her manic-depression. Consequently, her medication needs some readjustment. Until she’s stabilized, she has to be monitored. She’s in seclusion so she can get well, and that’s all there is to it. That’s all there ever was to it. I’d stake my career on that.”
“You don’t have a career,” Daily observed.
“Thank you for reminding me of that. Thank you for reminding me of that about every five minutes.”
“What bug got up your ass?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know,” she said irritably. “I take that back. I do know what’s bugging me. I miss the life I had before it got so screwed up.”
“More to the point, before you screwed it up,” Daily said. “No one ordered you to go off half-cocked about SIDS, or the President’s baby, or the First Lady’s mental and emotional health. You drummed that up all by your sweet lonesome.”
“Well, who taught me the tricks of the trade, huh? You.”
“I taught you to build news stories on fact, not conjecture. That’s what I taught. That isn’t what you learned.” He labored to regain his breath. “You want your life back? Fine. You can leave my house anytime, missy.”
“Maybe I will. I’m sick of camping out in that tacky guest room of yours. I’m sick of sharing a bathroom with two sloppy men who never hang up wet towels or put the seat down.” Her chair made a noisy screech on the kitchen linoleum as she pushed it back and stood up.
“I’m sick of the two of you and this game we’ve been playing,” she continued heatedly. “It’s stupid and dangerous and a total waste of time. In fact, I just this second made a profound decision. I’m going to get my life back. You two can do whatever the hell you like.”
She stomped across the floor and slammed the kitchen door.
After a moment of taut silence, Gray said, “You really pissed her off.”
Daily’s sigh rattled deep in his chest. “Yeah, I was pretty hard on her. After all she’s been through lately, I should’ve cut her some slack, I guess. I’d better go and talk to her.”
“Don’t bother. Let her sulk. Chalk it up to PMS. She’ll cool off after a while. I’ll talk her down.”
“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”
“Once.”
“That’s it?”
“You keeping records?”
“What’re your plans for her?”
“I don’t make plans with women.”
Daily didn’t let Gray’s intimidating blue gaze deter him from speaking his mind. “Sometimes I could choke her, but I love that girl like she was my own blood. I don’t want her to get hurt. Not by you and not by this. Maybe it’s time we cut bait and stop this nonsense.”
“You didn’t think it was nonsense a week ago.”
“I’ve got the right to change my mind. This all started with Barrie’s thirst for a hot story. I’m beginning to think her ambition was contagious. It rubbed off on me, and I should have known better.
“Then she went to Wyoming and got you riled up too. And it didn’t take much, did it, Bondurant? One whiff of Vanessa-in-trouble, and her hero comes running. Hell, you get right down to it, the three of us are pathetic.”
“You okay, Daily?”
“Do I sound okay?” he gasped. “I’m too old and sick for this shit. I’d like my declining days to be a little more peaceful. I don’t particularly want the word traitor engraved on my tombstone, either. It takes a strong person to admit when he’s been wrong. I’d like to think I have that much strength of character left.”
He came to his feet and shuffled toward the door, dragging his squeaky oxygen trolley after him. “Don’t forget to turn out the light. You two aren’t paying rent and electricity’s not free, you know.”