Final Target
“I’m not. What’s your point?”
“I don’t know if there is one. I know only that Cassie must have run from her bedroom straight to the Wind Dancer that night.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Melissa got up from the bed. “Everyone knows she ran to her nanny for protection. ” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “It’s stupid to assume she’d run to an inanimate object at a moment like that.”
“I’m not sure.” Jessica frowned. “Her father said she was terribly fond of it. She’d make up stories about the statue and play in the library where he kept it.”
“It’s dumb,” Melissa said fiercely. “The statue has nothing to do with any of this.”
“How do you know?” Travis gazed at her with speculation. “Did she confide in you in one of your nightmare trysts?”
“I’m just being logical. Neither of you seems to know the meaning of the—” She strode toward the bathroom. “Excuse me.”
Jessica blinked as the door slammed behind Melissa. “Well, no one can say my sister doesn’t have decided opinions.”
“Have you ever discussed the Wind Dancer with her?”
“Only casually. Naturally, I told her the circumstances of Cassie’s trauma.” She shook her head. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to blow up. She’s been under a good deal of stress lately, and she didn’t want her study time interrupted.”
“She didn’t hurt my feelings.” He leaned back. “Have you ever considered going back to Vasaro and re-creating the scene there?”
“Not if there’s any other way. Too traumatic. The cure could be worse than the illness.”
“But you’ve considered it?”
“I’ve considered every step imaginable. Even if I wanted to take Cassie to Vasaro, her father absolutely refuses to allow it.”
“Oh, that could be a problem.” He thought for a moment. “What about the Wind Dancer? That’s part of the picture.”
“Andreas lent it to the Museum d’Andreas in Paris.”
“I’m checking to see if the statue is going on tour anytime in the near future.”
“You are?” She looked at him in surprise. “Then you do believe there’s a connection.”
“I don’t know. I’m grabbing at straws, but if we could take her to Paris and arrange for her to—”
“The President is not going to permit her to go anywhere until the people who attacked Vasaro are found.” She stared meaningfully at him. “Isn’t that your job?”
“I’m working on it.” He smiled as he recalled that that was the phrase Melissa had used. “Maybe we can ask Melissa to broach the subject of the Wind Dancer during the next episode with Cassie.”
“After that reaction?”
“Persuade her.” He stood up. “The clock’s ticking. If we don’t make a breakthrough soon, we may be forced to take radical action.”
“Radical? Things are going just fine. I don’t intend to rock the boat.”
He gave her a sober glance. “Rock it, Jessica.”
She was going to throw up.
No, she could stop it, Melissa told herself. It wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. Just don’t think about it and do the usual things. She bent over the washbasin and splashed cold water in her face.
But it hadn’t happened before. Not like this. Dreams were dreams. This was reality.
Damn him. She should have known Travis would dig and probe until he came up with a lead. It wouldn’t do him any good. She would stop him and it would go no further.
Emerald eyes staring . . .
Sweet Jesus . . .
She rushed to the toilet and threw up.
“You look pale.” Jessica frowned worriedly as she watched Melissa come down the stairs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Melissa smiled. “I’ve probably been hitting the books too hard. I’ve been cooped up in that room all day. If you’re feeling sorry for me, you could get me a lemonade and come and keep me company on the porch. I need some air before I go back to the grind.”
“I could use a glass myself.” She headed for the kitchen. “Go on out. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Melissa settled on the swing and sent it moving gently. It was a hot, muggy night, and she could hear the frogs croaking in the pond behind the house. Summer sounds. Life sounds. Wonderful . . .
“Daydreaming?” Jessica handed her a glass and sat down beside her. “You look a lot better.”
Melissa laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment. It’s dark out here.”
“There’s moonlight.”
Melissa looked up at the sky. “Yes, there is.”
Silence.
“Mellie, why did you blow up this afternoon?” Jessica asked hesitantly.
“I was waiting for that question. I worried you, didn’t I? You thought I was irrational, and considering the fact that you’re not sure how well balanced I am anyway, it—”
“That’s not true. I know there’s nothing wrong with you. I just wondered why you got so upset.”
“I’m sure you gave Travis all kinds of excuses for my lapse.”
“Of course I did. Maybe a couple of them might even have merit.” She sipped her lemonade. “We never kept secrets from each other. Talk to me, Mellie.”
It wasn’t true. She had kept so many secrets from Jessica since she had come back from the other place, but she was glad Jessica had never been aware of that lack of trust. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you I was really—” She shook her head. “Okay, I don’t want Travis to get too interested in the Wind Dancer.”
“Why not?”
“He’s like a steamroller. Once he sets his sights on something, he won’t stop.”
“That’s not always a bad trait.”
“It can be. Sometimes people get swept along into places they shouldn’t be in. All it takes is one push and it sets things toppling . . . like dominoes.”
“And what does that have to do with the Wind Dancer?”
“That’s what Cassie is trying to find in the tunnel.”
Jessica went still. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, yes.”
“But that’s a good thing to know. We can build on that. Maybe Travis’s idea about using the Wind Dancer isn’t too bad if we can figure out a way to —”
“No.” Melissa tried to temper the sharpness of her tone. “You don’t understand. It’s not . . . it’s a bad . . . feeling. Delving into it might hurt Cassie.”
“She’s afraid of it?”
She didn’t answer directly. “You don’t want to open that can of worms.”
“I know you’re concerned for Cassie, but you don’t understand all the psychological ramifications of her condition. You’ll have to trust me to work it out.”
“Forget about the statue.”
“I can’t forget anything that might help Cassie. You can’t either, Mellie. We have to work together.”
“Half the time you don’t even believe what I tell you about Cassie’s nightmares.”
“So I have a few problems in that area. But I do believe what you say about Cassie trying to find the Wind Dancer, because when I showed her the photograph, she—”
“You told me you didn’t actually see a reaction.” She smiled sardonically. “What are you? Some kind of spook like me?”
“Not fair. I’ve never called you a spook.” She paused. “The Wind Dancer is the only lead we have. We have to pursue it, Mellie. I want you to promise me that you won’t reject Cassie if she opens up the subject.”
Melissa was silent.
“Please.” Jessica sighed. “We have to help Cassie, and I don’t know which way to turn.”
What difference did it make? Melissa thought wearily. The dominoes were falling and she couldn’t stop them by pretending they didn’t exist. “I won’t encourage it, but I won’t reject it. Is that enough?”
“That’s enough.” Jessica leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” She stood up. “N
ow I’ve got to check on Cassie and then go to bed. Are you coming in?”
“Pretty soon.”
“Don’t study too late.”
“I won’t.” She leaned back on the swing. “Have a good night.”
“Let’s hope we all do.” Jessica went into the house.
The conversation had been a complete bust, Melissa thought in despair. She had hoped that if she introduced a hint of a threat to Cassie, Jessica would veer away from the Wind Dancer. She hadn’t counted on Jessica’s total obsession with bringing Cassie back. If Melissa had just left the subject alone, maybe Jessica’s interest would not have been piqued.
Or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. Fate?
To hell with fate. That was defeatist thinking. Travis certainly wouldn’t rely on a whim to shape his destiny. He was already trying to find a way to have his cake and eat it too. Now, thanks to Melissa’s own clumsiness, she might have driven Jessica into his camp. In her heart Jessica would always consider Melissa the dependent child she had been all those years ago.
The lights were on at the gatehouse. They often stayed on most of the night. She had learned in the past several days that Travis seldom got more than four hours’ sleep a night and that he was a great reader. Was he delving into that pile of books she’d seen delivered yesterday afternoon? Insatiable curiosity and a thirst for knowledge could be dangerous qualities in an enemy.
It was the first time she had acknowledged to herself that Travis could be an adversary. She had been wary of him, but she hadn’t believed he offered any challenge she couldn’t meet. In a weird way, she had felt a kind of bond with him. Crazy. It was probably a carryover of Cassie’s trust in him and view of him as a savior. But she had enjoyed their battles of wits and admired his sharpness and intuitiveness.
She didn’t admire them now. His intuitiveness was striking too close to home. He had brought the Wind Dancer out of the darkness into the light.
She could handle it. Crush down the panic. If she wasn’t strong enough, she would concentrate, learn, and develop.
She only hoped she had enough time.
9
Lyon
“Don’t answer it,” Danielle Claron said.
The doorbell rang again. Henri started for the door.
“Don’t be a fool,” she told him.
“If it’s van der Beck, I’d be a fool not to answer it. We’ve already discussed this, Danielle. We need to leave Lyon, and I’ve no intention of leaving it a pauper.”
“You’d rather leave it in a hearse?”
“Haven’t I always taken care of you? During these last ten years you’ve never lacked food on the table, but now we have a chance to live the way we deserve to.”
“I’m the one who gave you that chance. And I’m telling you that you shouldn’t—”
The bell rang again.
“Very well, answer it. But be careful.” Danielle moistened her lips. “We should never have gotten caught up in this. We didn’t need that extra money.”
“You never complained before. This is no different, only bigger. Now leave me to bargain.”
She moved toward the bedroom. “Believe me, I’ve no desire to be here.”
“That’s good. You’re too transparent. I saw van der Beck watching you when he was—” He suddenly tensed as he looked through the peephole. It wasn’t van der Beck. This man was tall, fair-haired, powerfully built, and only in his late thirties.
“Yes?”
“Monsieur Claron?” The man smiled. “My name is Jacques Lebrett. I’ve been sent by Jan van der Beck. I have something for you.”
“Why didn’t he come himself ?”
“He’s a busy man. I believe he told you he might send someone?”
Van der Beck had mentioned the possibility, but Claron was still uneasy. “Tell van der Beck if he wants to have the—”
“He’s involved in some very delicate negotiations.” Lebrett flipped open his briefcase and held it up so that it was visible through the peephole. “But he’s not too busy to furnish you with suitable funds for your information.”
Money. Stacks and stacks of francs. He’d never seen so much.
“Can we talk, Monsieur Claron?”
So much money . . .
Henri unlocked and threw open the door. “Come in.”
“Thank you.” The man smiled. “I’m sure we can come to terms.”
The wife had escaped.
No problem. Edward Deschamps had disabled the car in the driveway and the house was miles from the road. Henri Claron had died too easily, but tracking his wife down would be a challenge. He had needed this kill. He had been on the hunt for Travis too long, and that made him edgy. When the need for removing the Clarons had become clear, he had eagerly leapt at the chance.
Deschamps washed the bloody knife, carefully wiped his fingerprints from the sink, then did a pass around the house. Not that these precautions would do much good. Forensic tests made it very difficult for a man to do his job these days. Yet he still did as he’d been taught as a boy. Habits were hard to break.
He left the house and scanned the yard and surrounding woods. Which way would she go? The fields that eventually led to the highway?
No, the woods. She’d think she could hide in the trees.
But he would find her. This was the game in which he excelled. He’d known that Claron would open the door. Money was always the key. Several authentic bills on top and paper below and the man had thought he was rich. What a fool.
He went down the steps into the farmyard, flicked his lighter, and lit the taper he’d brought with him. He tossed the taper on the gasoline-soaked boards of the porch.
The house exploded in flames.
“Henri Claron is dead,” van der Beck said.
“What?” Travis’s hand tightened on his phone. “How?”
“His house burned to the ground, but the police think he was dead before the fire started. They haven’t found his wife yet.”
“She escaped?”
“Maybe. But if she did, she dug a hole and isn’t going to come out.”
“If she’s alive, I need to know where she is. You said she was as nervous as her husband. There’s a good chance she knew what he knew. Or maybe more.”
“You think she’s going to risk getting her throat cut after what happened to Henri?”
“Sometimes fear or revenge is a greater spur than money. Try to find her, Jan.”
“I’ve already started.” He paused. “Yesterday I found two bugs in my apartment. They weren’t there three days ago, when I made my last check.”
Travis stiffened. “Karlstadt?”
“Perhaps. Or possibly CIA. But the bugs were Chinese. I wouldn’t think they’d be regular CIA issue.”
Travis didn’t like it. Events were taking a nasty turn and the pressure was mounting.
“What about the negotiations with Karlstadt?”
“He’s up to twenty-three. You wouldn’t consider taking him up on it?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good. I’ve got a bad feeling about this Claron development. I find it curious that he was murdered before I could complete our transaction. It makes me wonder if there’s a wild card out there and closer than I’m comfortable with.” He didn’t speak for a moment. “And I think someone’s been following me.”
“CIA?”
“Oh, them too. Two men, green Porsche. I had them spotted three days after you left Amsterdam. But I have a hunch there’s someone else.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No, but I’ve got that tingling in the back of my neck.”
“Indisputable proof.”
“Enough for me. As you know, it’s saved my life any number of times. Things are getting too tense. I think I’ll take my cut and set sail on a long, long cruise. Call me when you make up your mind. Good-bye, Michael.”
“Wait.” Twenty-three million was enough, and he didn’t like the way the situation was shaping up f
or Jan. “Take the offer.”
“Good.” Jan gave a sigh of relief. “Karlstadt will want delivery at once, you know.”
“Stall him.”
“It’s like trying to stall a cobra that’s set to strike. He hates having to bargain for—”
“We don’t have a choice. I’m having a few problems with my situation here.”
“Four days tops. I’m warning you, Karlstadt will explode.”
“I’ll call you.”
Jan suddenly chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d give in to Karlstadt. Are you getting soft, Michael?”
“Maybe. You keep telling me what a tough customer Karlstadt is.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re afraid of Karlstadt. I believe you may be worried about me. I approve.”
“Why should I worry about you? You’ve got that magical tingling neck to keep you safe.” He hung up.
Four days.
How the hell was he going to find a way to leave here in four days? The barriers were monumental. Cassie. Andreas. The Secret Service.
And Jessica and Melissa Riley. The two women might be the most formidable obstacles of all.
Well, obstacles were meant to be overcome. An idea had already occurred to him as to how to finagle his departure, but he’d been trying to think of some other way.
It was nasty. Very nasty.
But so was the situation in Amsterdam, and that was his real life, not this hiatus here at Juniper. Jan was no fool, and if he thought there was danger, then the threat existed. His life might be on the line. It was Travis’s part of the deal to grab the money and get them both safely away from the Russians and Karlstadt, and that was what he had to do.
It was ironic Jan had accused him of going soft. He’d change his mind if he knew how Travis was planning to get away from here.
Nasty . . .
The sun was going down when Jessica opened the door to Travis.
“May I speak to you?” he asked.
She frowned in puzzlement. “Come in. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing that can’t be solved. I’d rather not come into the house. Why don’t we go for a walk down to the pond?”
“I have to get back to Cassie. I’m only taking my dinner break.”