David Dun Bestselling Thriller Author
The Novels Common Questions Facts Behind Fiction Coming Events Write Us Sign Up
International Thriller Writers Bestselling Thriller Writer David Dun
Next Page

Apparently he wasn’t moving and neither was she. She glanced up. Sam had gone back to his book, sitting only about twenty feet away. She wished he had glanced her way again but counted on him not to.

Her phone rang, and she jumped casting about for the cordless contraption.

“It’s in your back pocket,” Sam said without even looking up.

“Haley,” came a staticky voice, “this is Ben. Can you hear me?”

“Hey, how’s it going?” The static worsened, and then it sounded like they were disconnected. It happened all the time on the island. “Hello, hello…” She tried for a minute and gave up.

“Was it Ben?” Sam asked.

He must be a Russian spy ship.

“Yeah, but he disappeared. I just caught a few words but he sounded stressed. Maybe things aren’t going well in the lab. It’s past lunch. I think I’ll take him something to eat and see how he is. Maybe after we can have a cup of coffee.”

“I’ll be here,” Sam said, walking back to his chair.
Sarah had left a few minutes ago, to take care of those “errands” she was supposed to be doing.

Haley turned to leave.

“Say Haley,” he said as she left. She paused and turned.

“Give me a call and let me know that everything’s okay with Ben.”

She nodded and left.

*    *    *

Haley parked in the lot behind Oaks, the building that housed Ben’s office and lab. Clouds were now starting to blow across the sky and making intermittent showers in the distance. At the moment the rain clouds formed a dark band up Lopez and all the way to Orcas, maybe beyond. Over on the far side of San Juan Channel it looked like heavy rain.

Next Page

Links SiteMap rj-studio Graphic Design in New York