Tom asked, looking up as Matt lumbered into his office at eight-thirty the following morning. “We need to talk,” Matt replied, taking a seat and tossing the walking cane he had opted to use instead of crutches onto Tom’s desk. “You could have given me a bell. You should be taking it easy.” “I’m fine, Tom. Stop treating me like a bloody invalid.” Tom went over to the small table in the corner and poured them both coffees. “You are a bloody invalid, he said. “What’s so important?” “I talked to Beth Holder last night. She’ll be contacting you.” “About what?” “She reckons that Penny Page will almost certainly be hit if she isn’t moved again, and I agree with her. Whoever is taking blood money off Santini will have told him where she’s stashed. And that she’s recovering. You need to relocate her, now, Tom. Every minute she’s in that clinic could be her last.” “I’ll run it past McClane.” “Impress on him that it needs to be done on the QT, without a paper trail.
