Final Target

  “Killed?”

  “No, but he had internal injuries. He was in the hospital for weeks. I went to see his mother and she must have thought I was nuts. She was very soothing and assured me that I had nothing to do with Jimmy’s accident.”

  “You didn’t believe her?”

  “In my dream it was always a yellow and black florist van. He was run over by a van from Bendix Florist. What are the odds?”

  “And the second case?”

  “An old man who worked at the college as a janitor. I had a recurring dream that he slipped on the side of the lap pool and hit his head. I could see the blood in the water.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “I went to him and told him about it. He was a nice man, but he didn’t believe me. He patted me on the shoulder and told me young people watched too much TV these days. I asked him to at least please take someone with him when he cleaned the locker rooms and the pool area. He said he would.”

  “But he didn’t do it.”

  She gave a sigh of anguish. “How did you guess?” “Human nature. If he didn’t believe you, he’d go his own way. It happened as you dreamed it would?”

  “He drowned. It didn’t have to happen. Maybe if I’d kept after him . . .” She shook her head. “Or maybe not. Maybe this is some big cosmic joke. Show me the future and then not let me change it.” She turned to Travis and asked unevenly, “Now, wouldn’t that be funny?”

  “No, and I don’t think you’ve given it a fair shot. The first time you didn’t believe in it yourself. The second time it wasn’t your fault the old man was too set in his ways to take care of himself.”

  “And Jessica?”

  “She slipped you a mickey. You might have been able to prevent what happened if you’d been yourself.” He turned to look at her. “Of course, if you want to think that this is all fate and can’t be changed, go for it. It’s much simpler. Just turn your back and walk away.”

  “Simple? You don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing simple about—” Her gaze narrowed on his face. “You’re accepting all this much too easily.”

  “I told you once that I had no problem with talents a little outside the norm.”

  “Joining with Cassie is a little outside the norm. Dreams of future events are way off the scale.”

  “I wasn’t exactly unprepared for it. It’s not totally unheard of in cases involving recovered trauma victims. Dedrick mentioned two cases where authentic foresight was documented. Once in a Greek boy from Athens and once in China. It seems when the barriers are down, anything is possible.”

  “Dedrick again. I wish I’d gotten my hands on that book when I was going through hell with Jimmy.”

  “I wish you had too. It might have helped you.”

  She was silent a moment. “You’re trying to help me now. Why? We haven’t been the best of buddies.”

  “Maybe I blame myself even if you don’t. I was caught off guard by Deschamps. After the theft and Jan’s death, I didn’t expect this to happen. I didn’t make the connection. Except for my head on a platter, I thought he had what he wanted.”

  “And he wanted the Wind Dancer?”

  “He was up on the catwalk, so he had to know the layout of the museum. Maybe he was planning on stealing the statue himself. He had to have done some pretty thorough advance work.”

  “Did he follow us from Amsterdam?”

  “I believe he knew ahead of time that we might be going after the Wind Dancer. He was waiting for us to set it up for him.”

  “And how would he know that?”

  “Jan’s phone was bugged for a time. It had to be Deschamps.”

  “And he wanted the Wind Dancer enough to run the risk. Why?”

  “There could be many reasons. He’s a mercenary. His entire career has been spent in pursuit of money.”

  “You said he took millions from you already.”

  “Millions aren’t that important anymore. You can make that on one drug deal. Your next-door neighbor can make it e-trading. But the Wind Dancer is priceless. For a man like Deschamps, it could be the ultimate score.” He shrugged. “Or it could be something else entirely. Who knows what’s important to him?”

  “The Wind Dancer is important to him or he wouldn’t have been at the museum. But he’s not going to get it. Where is it? Where did you put it?”

  “In the closet in an old box we found in the shed. It’s just going to be an albatross around our necks. We need to return it, Melissa.”

  “No.” She stood up. “Why should we do that? As long as Deschamps wants it, we have the bait to trap him. I won’t give it up.” She looked him in the eye. “You should want Deschamps as much as I do. You told me you were going after him right after you kept your promise to Jessica.”

  “I intend to do that. The situation has changed, but as soon as I make sure this place is safe for you and Cassie to—”

  “Bullshit. I’m not hiding from the bastard who killed Jessica.”

  “I guarantee I’ll see that he’s punished.”

  “No, I’ll see that he’s punished.” Her lips thinned. “And no one is going to stand in my way, Travis. Now leave. I want to be alone for a little longer.”

  She’s going to harden into pure steel.

  Galen was right. She was changing, toughening. Not that she hadn’t always been strong, but now you could almost see the steel.

  “Go on.” She turned to look at him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to walk into the sea and drown or anything. I just have to work my way through this so I can think.”

  “Come when you’re ready and we’ll talk.” He turned and walked back toward the cottage. Not that talking would do any good.

  “You shouldn’t be here, sir.” Danley opened the limousine door as it pulled up in front of the hangar. “I was going to come and report to you as soon as we got the casket onto the plane.”

  “You told me you’d kept the removal of her body from the media,” Andreas said. “It better be true. Where are you taking it?”

  “Arlington.” He hesitated. “I wonder if you wouldn’t reconsider? We’ve reports the sister was very close to the deceased. She might decide to say a last good-bye.”

  “The more evidence of what happened at the museum, the more likely the media will find out about the theft of the Wind Dancer. There may be a chance Travis wants to negotiate for the statue. Have you got the in-depth report on the sister yet?”

  “Not yet, sir. Of course, we did preliminary work after they took Cassie, but she was considered of secondary importance.”

  “Well, now she’s of primary importance.”

  “We’ve located the van they rented in Antwerp. It was abandoned forty miles outside of Paris. That means they’ve changed to another vehicle. We’re checking all rental car agencies in the area. Though with Travis’s contacts, he could have obtained a car from other sources.”

  “Let’s hope you have better luck than you’ve had to date.” He walked over to the casket. “Open it.”

  “Sir?”

  “Open it. I want to see her.”

  Danley motioned to the man guarding the coffin, and the lid was lifted.

  Danley probably thought he was some kind of ghoul, Andreas thought. He didn’t know why he wanted a last look at Jessica Riley’s face. Maybe just to assure himself that it was really her. The theft of the Wind Dancer was completely bewildering, and he couldn’t put the pieces together with Cassie’s kidnapping. And why would Jessica’s sister call and tip them off ? Some of the fingerprints at the museum had been Melissa’s; she had risked being caught in the same trap as Travis and her sister.

  There was no doubt this woman was Jessica. In death her face looked as soft and gentle as in life. That gentleness had always been his impression of Cassie’s doctor. He had never been sure that her methods were right, but he’d never doubted the fact that she cared about his daughter.

  Until she’d taken his daughter away.

  Now
he had to deal with a wild card. How did he know what kind of psycho Melissa Riley had turned out to be after those years in withdrawal? He’d felt some comfort when Jessica had called and told him Cassie was safe. There was no comfort at all now.

  He turned away from the coffin. “Shut it up.”

  17

  Dawn was lighting the sky when Melissa came back to the cottage.

  Travis met her at the door with a cup of coffee. She took a swallow before she asked, “Cassie?”

  “I just checked her,” Galen said from the chair across the room. “I think she’s asleep.” He grimaced. “Though I’m not sure how you can tell.”

  “I’ll take a look.” She opened the bedroom door. Cassie was curled up on the bed across the room. “Cassie.”

  She sensed a withdrawal, a scuttling away. Melissa didn’t know to what extent Cassie had been aware of what was going on at the museum, but it had frightened her enough to make her retreat. How far she’d gone Melissa would have to find out later. “Everything’s okay, Cassie. Just rest. We’ll talk later.” She shut the door and came back into the living room. “She’s not asleep, but she’s all right for now.” She sat down on the window seat and leaned back. “How safe are we here?”

  “I’ve arranged to have some of my guys positioned around the beach, so we’ll have warning. On a scale of one to a hundred, I’d give it a sixty,” Galen said. “It was a seventy before you made Travis snatch the Wind Dancer. It will go down to a forty if Andreas decides to release the story about the theft.”

  “He hasn’t done that yet?”

  “Not yet.” Travis sat down on the couch across from Melissa. “He may be waiting for us to contact him and make a deal.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “It’s the smartest way to dispose of an art treasure that’s instantly recognized by everyone in the world. The only alternative would be to sell it to some closet collector who would bury it in a vault somewhere.”

  “Would Deschamps have contacted Andreas?”

  “I believe he has another agenda.”

  “What agenda?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time some weirdo fixated on the statue.”

  “And if Andreas did agree to deal, it would probably be so he could set a trap?”

  “That’s my reading. Getting Cassie well is what’s been driving him all these months. The statue’s been in his family for centuries, but he’d give it up in a heartbeat to find Cassie. That’s all he really wants.”

  Melissa nodded slowly. “And to get the terrorist who did this to her. He doesn’t know it’s Deschamps, right?”

  Travis shook his head.

  “But he has the power to locate Deschamps for us?”

  “Maybe. But it wouldn’t be for us. If we told him Deschamps was the man at Vasaro, he’d go after him himself.”

  “Then maybe we wouldn’t tell him. We could just use him for information.”

  “Use Andreas? He’s not that pliable.”

  “Stop putting roadblocks in my path.” Her lips tightened. “You’re the one who caused all these damned complications. What’s our alternative? I suppose you could spend some of those diamonds and buy the information.”

  He grimaced. “I’d rather not.” He paused. “Actually, I’m going to retrieve the diamond I gave Thomas.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to get Karlstadt off my back. Having to dodge him will get in my way of finding Deschamps.”

  “Even if you get the diamond from Thomas, you won’t be able to retrieve the ones I gave to Guilliame,” Galen reminded him. “They’re probably in the possession of either the French police or the CIA by now.”

  “I can work around that. Karlstadt won’t like it, but if the diamonds are in a secure place and not in circulation, I can probably stall and keep him from taking a contract out on me.”

  “They’re still not going to be in his pocket. What difference would their not being in circulation make?”

  “All the difference in the world.” He took a sip of his coffee. “The diamonds are not exactly what they seem.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “They’re phony?”

  “It depends on how you look at it.”

  “They’re either phony or they’re not.”

  “It’s all in the eye of the beholder. Those particular diamonds could meet every test the most qualified jeweler could put them through. For nearly fifty years scientists have known how to transform carbon-rich substances into small industrial diamonds, but they haven’t been able to create gem-quality stones. There were all kinds of problems. The amount of pressure needed and the graphite, which is soft but very resistant to change. The bond between the layers is weak, so the graphite flakes apart, but the inner layers are incredibly strong. The carbon atoms—”

  “I don’t want to hear all this. The bottom line, Travis.”

  “There’s a group of Russian scientists funded by the local Mafia that has managed to create perfect diamonds indistinguishable from those grown in the ground.”

  “That’s not possible. There have to be tests that can tell the difference.”

  “The diamond industry developed one test that detected the defects caused by nitrogen concentrate in synthetic stones. The residual luminescence was unmistakable.”

  “But the Russians solved the problem?”

  Travis nodded. “That they did, and it’s scaring the diamond syndicates shitless. I found out about it from one of my sources and decided to go to Russia and see if there was anything interesting in it for me. I was there for about six weeks when there was a convenient explosion at the lab. The equipment and the scientists were blown to kingdom come.”

  “You obviously managed to survive and get out,” Galen said. “With your pockets full of diamonds?”

  “And a disk with the process.”

  Galen chuckled. “I thought you were only smuggling. This is much more interesting. And who does Karlstadt represent?”

  “He does the strong-arm work for a South African diamond syndicate. Naturally, they don’t want the diamonds to appear anywhere. If they did, the bottom could fall out of the market. No one would know whether the jewels they bought were real or made in the lab. Prices would plummet because the element of rarity would be gone. It could spell disaster for the entire diamond industry.”

  “The Russians could build a new lab.”

  “I’m sure they’re doing that now, but it will take time. Meanwhile Karlstadt can negotiate or use muscle to keep the Russians from duplicating their efforts. The diamonds and the process are the only danger to him right now.”

  “I don’t care about the danger to your South Africans,” Melissa said. “What’s important is that you don’t have money to buy information.”

  “I have some in a Swiss account, but those accounts aren’t altogether safe from CIA snooping.”

  Melissa turned to Galen. “Can you raise the money?”

  “Not enough. I can tap some sources, but Deschamps is a dangerous man and wells tend to dry up when you’re as hot as we are.”

  “Then it has to be Andreas.” She got up and put her cup down on the end table. “ We have to find a way to deal.”

  “You have a suggestion?”

  “Give him what he wants.”

  “Cassie?” Travis asked. “What about her nightmares? We can’t send her back in the shape she’s in now.”

  “Then we have to give him a Cassie on her way to recovery.” Her gaze went to the bedroom door. “Jessica told me to help her. She probably meant for me to save her from Deschamps, but Jessica died trying to bring Cassie back. One of the last things she said to me was how close Cassie had been to coming back.” She blinked back tears. “She was so happy that Cassie— Oh, shit.” She was silent a moment before she could continue. “Cassie’s coming back. I’m going to see to it. And we might as well find a way to screw Deschamps by doing it.”

  “It’s a long shot,” Travis said.

  “I’m go
ing to do it.” Melissa headed for the bedroom. “You just make sure that Karlstadt and all the rest of the baggage around you don’t get in my way.”

  “I’ll try to oblige.”

  “Oh, and I want a set of keys to that new van.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  “You’re damn right. Cassie’s keeping me tethered, but I’m not going to be any more of a prisoner than I have to be.”

  “I’ll have a set made today. Galen is going to have a small car picked up in town by one of his guys. I’ll see that you have keys to that car too.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What are the odds she’ll be able to help Cassie?” Galen asked Travis when the door closed behind her. “The kid seems almost comatose to me.”

  “I don’t know. She has . . . responses.”

  “But not when she’s awake.”

  Travis shook his head. “Jessica seemed to sense a response. Like I said, it’s a long shot. But maybe it’s just as well that Melissa’s going to be absorbed with Cassie. It will be safer than having to chase after her while she scours Europe for Deschamps.”

  “And leaves you free to make a deal with Karlstadt.”

  “Yes.” He paused. “But it will also give you time to track down another missing piece of the puzzle for me.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Henri Claron’s widow, Danielle. She disappeared the night of Claron’s death. She grew up in the same village as Cassie’s nanny, and she may have known more about Deschamps than just his identity. If we have her, we may not need Andreas or anyone else.”

  “You believe she’s still alive?”

  Travis shrugged. “It’s a chance. Since her body’s not been found, she may have gotten lucky.”

  “And we may get lucky.” Galen turned away. “I’m on it.”

  “Cassie?” Melissa whispered as she gazed down at the child. “I know you’re not sleeping. Answer me.”

  No response.

  Melissa hadn’t expected it, but she had felt obliged to try Jessica’s method. Jessica had been the voice summoning from the ramparts. Melissa had been the guerrilla behind the lines. Cassie had become accustomed to dealing with both of them.