Firestorm

  “So he was a total blank page.”

  “Yes, of course he was.” She stiffened. “Why don't you believe me?”

  “Because you don't believe it yourself.”

  “I do. I do.”

  “Easy. I'm not pushing you right now.” He pulled her closer. “Go to sleep.”

  “I can't go to sleep. How do you expect me to sleep when you keep saying things to stir me up? Just stay away from—”

  “I can't.” His voice was low. “I won't.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if you decide to walk away from me, you're going to take something with you. This is something I can give you. Something no one else will ever be able to give you.”

  She was silent. “You mean, you're doing this to give me a kind of . . . present?”

  “You might call it that. Or you might say my ego won't let me be forgotten. It's my way of assuring my immortality in your eyes. Either way, you have something broken and I'm going to fix it.”

  “Even if I don't want you to do it.”

  “Then fight me. You managed to push me out this time. You're getting stronger all the time. You might be able to send me on my way.”

  “I will.” She closed her eyes. “You're right: You get in my way and I'll send you packing.” It was strange to think of rejecting him in any way when she was lying close like this. He always managed to make her feel wonderfully treasured. Dear God, she would miss it when they were no longer together. “And now I'd appreciate it if you'd stop talking so that I can rest.”

  “I'll be quiet as a mouse.”

  “I don't like mice. They scamper.”

  “Well, I don't scamper. I stride like a lion.”

  She yawned. “Too many metaphors.”

  “I agree. So I'll just shut up.”

  “That was what I asked in the beginning.” She tried to relax. Close out the world. Close out the dream. Close out Silver. No, she couldn't close out Silver. He was always with her now. But that was okay because he was like a part of her, comfortable and familiar. . . .

  She was just drifting from waking to sleep when Silver whispered in her ear, “What did you see, Kerry?”

  What was he talking about? she thought hazily.

  “What did you see when you looked up at him? Tell me.”

  “Can't . . .”

  “Yes, you can. Just tell me and then you can go to sleep. Reach deep. What did you see?”

  Reach deep . . .

  Darkness. Fire outlining his tall body and casting his face in shadow.

  “Blue eyes,” she whispered. “Blue eyes . . .”

  14

  Dickens's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he hit a rut and almost skidded off the road.

  “Son of a bitch!” The curse was followed by a string of other obscenities. He'd be lucky if he got back to town without a flat tire. That's all he needed. He'd have to change it himself, because he was under Trask's orders not to attract undue attention. As if he'd be that stupid. But Trask thought everybody but himself was an idiot and treated them that way.

  Just a few miles more and he could turn around and get out of here. Check it out and then he'd be able to call Trask and give him his report. He hoped to hell it was going to be what the bastard wanted. This was the eighth trip he'd had to take, and he was sick of it.

  He drove around the bend and there it was.

  He gave a low whistle.

  He parked the car on the side of the road before glancing down at the photo on the seat beside him.

  Maybe. Just maybe . . .

  Blue eyes.

  It was the first thought that came to Kerry's mind when she woke the next morning. One moment she was deep in slumber and the next wide awake, her heart pounding as if she'd been running. She sat upright in bed. What the hell?

  And where was Silver?

  She swung her legs to the floor and jumped out of bed.

  Five minutes later she was dressed and running down the stairs.

  “Good morning,” George said as he came in the front door. “You look a bit edgy.”

  “You might say that. Where's Silver?”

  “Right behind me. We were checking over the grounds. He wanted to make sure that the guards weren't missing any signs of intruders. A suspicious man is our Brad.”

  “Your Brad. I'm not claiming him at the moment.”

  His brows lifted. “Indeed? Then maybe he had reason to get away from the house for a while.” He turned as Silver came in the door. “You're in her bad books.” He moved toward the library. “And I'm out of here. I think I should be hearing from the CIA any time now on the identity of our mysterious Helen, and I need to be available.” He cast a glance at Kerry over his shoulder. “Try not to damage him too badly. I still haven't had my rematch with him.”

  “He may have waited too long,” Kerry said grimly as the door shut behind George. “Now he'll have to stand in line. What did you do to me?”

  “I thought we'd discussed that last night.”

  “Don't give me that. I mean right before I went to sleep. Did you give me some sort of posthypnotic suggestion to jog my memory?”

  He was silent a moment. “Maybe.”

  “And it wasn't just coincidence I had that dream last night.”

  He shrugged. “There aren't many true coincidences in this world.”

  She hadn't known until this moment how desperately she'd wanted to be wrong. “Damn you. It was bad enough that you barged in where you had no business. You actually manipulated me. You said you wouldn't do that. You promised me. Why the hell did you break your word?”

  “I couldn't think of any other way to do it. You were resisting me tooth and nail. I had to catch you when you were relaxed and your defenses were down.”

  “And it didn't occur to you that you'd destroy any trust I had in you?”

  “It occurred to me. I decided it was worth the chance. He was the monster who haunted you all your life. You needed to face him instead of hiding.”

  “In your judgment.”

  “In my judgment.”

  “You arrogant son of a bitch.”

  “Yes, I certainly am. I never denied that I'm a selfish bastard and that I probably ran the risk for my benefit too.” He added simply, “I couldn't stand you hurting. Every time I touched that part of you, it made me . . . ache. It had to end, Kerry.”

  “And just what do you think you gained?”

  “If you'd let yourself look beyond the anger, you might find out.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Blue eyes,” he said softly. “He had blue eyes. Why didn't you want to remember that, Kerry?”

  “Maybe I didn't remember. Maybe you planted that thought when you were—”

  “You don't believe that,” he interrupted. “Cut through the bullshit and tell me why you blocked out of your memory the man who killed your mother.”

  “I didn't. I was in a coma, and when I woke I couldn't remember.”

  “But you remembered last night. You remembered blue eyes. If I'd probed a little deeper, would you have been able to describe him?”

  “No!”

  “I think you would.”

  “You're wrong.” Her hands clenched into fists. “You're completely wrong.”

  “Why did the sight of his face drive you into shock?”

  “I was scared.”

  “Yes, you were.” He paused. “Who do you know with blue eyes?”

  “That's an idiotic question. I know dozens of people with blue eyes.” She whirled on her heel and threw open the door. “I'm not going to listen to you anymore. Just stay away from me.”

  “I will,” he said quietly, as he followed her down the steps. “You need to be alone to sort things out. If I can help, I'll be here for you.”

  “I've had enough of your help.” She started down the driveway toward the trees bordering the gates. “And I have no intention of trying to sort anything out. I just don't want to be aroun
d you.”

  “Intentional or not, you're not one who can bury her head in the sand.” He sat down on the steps. “You'll start asking yourself questions in spite of yourself. It's not going to be easy, but you have the courage to face it. When you stop running away, come back and we'll talk.”

  “I don't want to talk.” She could feel his gaze on her back as she stalked into the trees. And she wasn't running away, dammit. She was angry and wanted to be alone. It was a natural reaction when someone you trusted betrayed you. And she wasn't burying her head in the sand. Perhaps he had been able to stir memories that the police and psychoanalysts had never been able to bring to the forefront. That didn't mean she'd intentionally hidden them from—

  Blue eyes.

  She skittered quickly away from the thought. She wouldn't think about it. She wouldn't think of anything Silver had said. He was wrong. There was nothing that—

  Running away.

  If she was too panic-stricken to think about his words, then there might be truth in what he said.

  God, she didn't want there to be truth. She didn't want him to be right.

  She could ignore it. She could ignore him.

  The hell she could. It wasn't honest, and she always tried to be honest with herself.

  Or maybe she hadn't been.

  She stopped in the shadow of one of the giant oaks as the thought occurred to her. Maybe the honesty was only on the surface. Maybe she hadn't had the guts to delve deep.

  But Silver had said she would have the courage, and he knew her better than anyone.

  She leaned her cheek against the rough bark of the tree and closed her eyes.

  Blue eyes . . .

  The sun was going down when Kerry came back to the house. Silver was still sitting on the top step where she had left him hours before.

  She braced herself. She'd hoped to have a little more time before she faced him. “Don't you have anything better to do than hang around here?”

  “No.” He smiled. “Well, there were a few earth-shattering matters that might have required my attention, but I figured you were more important. When you turn up the heat, it's only right that you stick around to make sure the subject doesn't boil over.”

  “I'm not one of your ‘subjects.'”

  His smile faded. “Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. But I believe you know that I don't regard you that impersonally. What's between us is definitely on a personal level.”

  Yes, it was. So personal that sometimes she couldn't bear the intimacy. “And I wasn't about to shatter into pieces because you behaved like an asshole and broke your promise.” She sat down on the step beside him. “Though I'll never forgive you for doing it.”

  He looked away from her. “I knew that was a possibility.”

  “Of course you did. But you couldn't resist diving in and trying to fix things to suit yourself.”

  “It's what I do.” He didn't speak for a moment. “And since you're not spitting fire and brimstone at me, I must have started you thinking.”

  “I'm too tired to be angry right now. That may come later.”

  “Soul-searching can be an exhausting process.”

  “Don't be pretentious. I wasn't searching my soul. My soul is fine and dandy.” She paused. “But just maybe you were right about me hiding from what happened that night.”

  His glance shifted back to her. “Hallelujah,” he said softly. “Breakthrough.”

  “I said maybe.” She moistened her lips. “I can't think of any other reason why I didn't— If it was right there in my memory, why didn't it come to the surface in all these years?”

  “You tell me.”

  Her linked hands clenched together. “Blue eyes.”

  He didn't speak.

  “Dammit, don't just sit there like some kind of all-knowing sphinx.”

  “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to ask the question again? Okay, who do you know with blue eyes?”

  “I told you that—” She drew a deep breath. “My entire family has blue eyes. I have blue eyes. My aunt Marguerite had blue eyes. My brother, Jason, has blue eyes.”

  “And?”

  She couldn't speak for a moment. “My father has blue eyes,” she said jerkily. “There. Are you satisfied?”

  “Are you?”

  “Stop acting like a shrink. Answering a question with a question.” But she had to get it out. So just say it. “My father and mother were getting a divorce. I remember . . . ugliness. The fights were very bitter. They were fighting about everything. Me, Jason, the house we lived in. The brownstone was my father's family home, but my mother wanted it. When my father took Jason away on that trip to Canada, I was almost glad he wasn't there anymore.”

  “A natural reaction.”

  “I felt guilty about it.” Strange that she could remember that day her father left the house now when she hadn't all these years. The memory of watching Jason and him get in the yellow taxi that had pulled up in front of the brownstone and feeling only relief. “But I was hurt that he was taking Jason and not me. I thought he didn't love me anymore. I knew he didn't love my mother anymore. Why should he love me?”

  “A child is different.”

  “He took Jason. He never asked me to go. When my father and mother argued, it was always about whether he was going to get Jason. Mother said that Jason and I should stay together, but he wanted his son.”

  “I believe I'm beginning to develop a dislike for both your parents. You shouldn't have been witness to any of those battles.”

  She shrugged. “When there's so much hate, it spills over and feeds on itself.”

  “Like a fire.”

  She met his gaze. “Like that fire.”

  “You think your father set the fire that killed your mother.”

  “I don't know. All afternoon I've been trying to fight my way through the resentment and bewilderment I felt toward him. He hated her. He didn't love me. He didn't want her to have the house. So what happened? The house burned down. My mother died. I ended up in a hospital for two years.”

  “But you were a witness. He could have found an opportunity to kill you while you were lying helpless during that period.”

  “But it would have been taking a chance. Who knows? I was in a coma. I could have slipped away at any time. And after I woke up, I didn't remember anything, so he would have been safe. It wasn't necessary to get rid of me.”

  “Then you do think he did it?”

  “I must have thought it was him. I didn't want to believe he was a murderer. If I did, I wouldn't have blocked that memory.”

  “A man with blue eyes. Not good enough evidence. What else do you remember?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. You pulled that out of me by sheer brute force.”

  “But you fought me. You didn't let me dig deeper.”

  “I saw his eyes. The rest of his face was in shadow.”

  “The eyes were only your first impression. You thought you recognized him and it sent you into shock. I can help you remember his other features.”

  “It was too dark,” she said quickly.

  “It wasn't too dark for you to realize he had blue eyes.”

  “I must have seen the glint from the reflection of the fire.”

  “Or it could be that it happened in a split second and you only received a quick impression. If I freeze that moment, you'll have time to look at separate features.”

  “And now you're stopping time? It boggles the mind. My, my, what next?”

  “You never can tell. I'm a man of infinite possibilities.” His gaze searched her face. “You're scared, aren't you?”

  “I'm not—” She stopped. “Maybe. It's too new. I never realized I suspected my father of being a murderer.”

  “Suspect is the key word. Don't you want to know?”

  She wasn't sure she did. Every time she thought about it she felt a rising panic. “It's . . . difficult. I could be wrong. It could be a complete stranger.”

  “And
you don't want it to be your father. There's a basic instinct that makes us want to believe in the goodness of our parents. You recognized it in Carmela. That's probably why you were in denial all these years.”

  “You have it all figured out. It's not that easy.”

  “I never said it was easy.” He paused. “You're not ready yet, are you? You won't let me help you.”

  “I believe I've had enough of your help.”

  “No, you haven't. But that's okay. You need time to absorb the shock and become accustomed to the idea that you can't hide any longer.”

  “I'm glad you think it's okay.” Her voice was laden with sarcasm as she got to her feet. “I'd hate not to have your approval. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find George and see if he's found out anything more about that woman friend of Trask's.”

  He nodded. “You do that.” He stood up. “And, as I'm sure you'd prefer I stay out of your way for a while, I'll tend to a few of those earthshaking matters I mentioned.”

  “What?”

  He smiled. “I got a phone call from Travis. Rosa's arriving at the airport in a couple hours.”

  “Louisville DFACS has released her?”

  “Into Ledbruk's custody. It took some high-level arm-twisting to ignore all the red tape connected with kids removed from the parental home, but they finally did it.”

  Relief rushed through her. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “You were a little preoccupied. I'm going to pick her up and take her to the safe house Ledbruk's arranged for her.”

  “Why not bring her here?”

  “You promised Carmela that Rosa would be safe. Do you really think we'd provide the safest haven for her? You're a prime target, and Trask would get the greatest enjoyment out of taking me out.”

  He was right. The greater distance Rosa was from either of them, the safer she'd be. Kerry just didn't like the idea of a child not having anyone but Secret Service agents around her. “She's only twelve.”

  “I'm sure Ledbruk will arrange to have a female agent stay with her. And I'll get a phone number from Ledbruk where you can call her.”

  She guessed that was as good as it was going to get. “Explain everything to her. Tell her Carmela will be—”