Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

“How could you tell?” She shivered. “That expression was-”

“Entirely natural considering the circumstances,” he said gently. “But I could still tell she had a flair for living.”

“Yes.” She moistened her lips. “I’m sorry that you-I didn’t want you to kill again, Jock. Particularly not for me.”

He smiled. “You’re suffering more than I am. You and MacDuff are always worrying about my immortal soul. Since I’m virtually sure that it’s lost already, I don’t let it trouble me.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were sick. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“Shh.” He lifted his cup. “Drink your coffee. It’s not important right now.”

“It’s important. You’re important.” She rubbed her temple. “What happened, Jock? Why was she killed? Celine didn’t have an enemy in the world. Was he crazy?”

“In a way, I suppose.”

“And why were you here?” Though heaven knows she had been grateful to have him. Not only because he had probably saved her life but for staying with her during those two excruciating hours of police questioning. The inspector had at first been brusque, then had turned amazingly kind and respectful. He had not even made them go down to the police station to give their statements.

But perhaps leaving the gallery would have been better. She would not have been so aware of what the police forensic team had been doing to Celine. She quickly veered away from that memory.

Now that the first shock was over, she had to fight her way through the horror and try to make some kind of sense out of that act, which had no resemblance to reason. “Why are you here? I haven’t seen you for a long time, Jock. You didn’t just drop in out of the blue and-”

“No.” He shook his head. “My timing’s not that good. I thought there might be a problem.”

She sat up straighter on the sofa. “What kind of problem? Venable. You mentioned Venable. You said you were working for him? The CIA? That doesn’t make any sense. We were all walking a tightrope just to keep Venable from taking you into custody. If MacDuff hadn’t been able to make a deal with him, he’d have thrown you into prison.”

“But it seems he had something else in mind.” His lips twisted. “A man of my talents can be a valuable commodity in Venable’s line of work.”

“He’s using you?” Anger flared through her. “Dammit, get him on the phone. I want to talk to him.”

He smiled faintly. “Only you would want to jump in and take on Venable when you’ve just had a knockout punch of your own. You don’t need to protect me. I’m not a kid any longer, Jane.”

She knew that with her mind but she couldn’t stop seeing him as that beautiful, broken boy he had been. “I still want to talk to Venable. Yes, I’ll give him hell, but maybe I can squeeze some information out of him.”

“You won’t have to squeeze. Not him. Not me. But give yourself a little time. Drink your coffee.” He leaned back in the chair. “You’d only get upset if I dove in and tried to explain now. You’re very protective, Jane.” He smiled. “No one should know that better than I do.”

“Dammit, I am upset. My friend was murdered and nailed to a door. I wasn’t very protective of her, was I?” She leaned forward. “Now you tell me what’s happening, Jock.”

“Wait for MacDuff,” he said quietly. “He should be here anytime now.”

“MacDuff? He’s coming, too? I don’t want to wait for MacDuff. I want you to-”

“Leave the lad alone, Jane.” MacDuff was standing in the open elevator. “I know you’ve been through a great deal, but so has Jock.” He smiled. “You mustn’t intimidate the poor boy.”

She stiffened as MacDuff stepped out of the elevator. Presence. Charisma. Force. She was always aware of those three aspects of MacDuff’s personality when he came into a room.

“Intimidate?” She shook her head. “I’ve never been able to intimidate Jock.”

“That’s not true,” Jock said. “You’re a truly fearsome woman, Jane. From the first time you sketched me in the garden at the castle, I knew that I’d never be free of you.” He got to his feet. “So I’ll leave and let MacDuff handle you. He likes to think he can call the birds from the trees.”

“Then you should have given me the chance to talk you out of letting Venable use you,” MacDuff said curtly. “I’m not pleased with you, Jock.”

“I quake. I quiver.” Jock moved toward the kitchen. “I have to make decisions for myself now, MacDuff. Venable used me because I made the choice.”

“Stop it,” Jane said. “I won’t have this.”

MacDuff turned back to her. “You’re right. Jock and I are both a little on edge, but we should contain it. You have a right to be upset with us.” He smiled. “But then we wouldn’t be so frank in front of you if we didn’t regard you as family.”

“Is that supposed to flatter me? I’ve no desire to be a part of you or that crumbling estate. Go to hell.”

Jock glanced back over his shoulder. “Now it’s time for you to quake and quiver, MacDuff.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Is that what you want?” MacDuff asked her quietly. “I’ll work on it if it will please you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Aye.” His lips indented at the corners. “But it’s bullshit that put a little color in your cheeks. I don’t like to see you pale and strained. Has it been a bad time for you tonight?”

“Bad time? You might say that. That bastard crucified my friend. He pinned her to that door like a-” She broke off. “And I don’t know why. But I’m going to find out.”

“Yes, you are.” He moved across the room toward her. He looked different, she thought. He was wearing a gray tweed suit, and she was accustomed to seeing him in casual slacks and sweaters. No matter what he wore, it was difficult to take your eyes away from him. He was tall, muscular, in his mid to late thirties with dark hair pulled away from his face. His light blue eyes were a striking contrast in his olive face. It was no wonder that Celine had been drawn to him. He was forceful, magnetic-all the things that would have attracted Celine.

He said, “May I sit down?”

She nodded impatiently. “Venable has something to do with this.”

“Yes.” He dropped down on the seat Jock had vacated. “I’d like to say the bastard had everything to do with it, but that would be giving him too much credit. He was only a cog.” He frowned. “But Venable should have come to me. I would have taken care of you. He had no business bringing Jock back here to do his work.”

“Taken care of me? What are you talking about?”

“I told you I regard you as family. Naturally, I’ll take care of what is mine.”

Arrogant, possessive bastard. Don’t argue. “Just tell me why anyone should have to take care of me,” she said through set teeth. “Why did Jock show up tonight?”

“He thought you were in danger. He’d received some information earlier today, and he had to make a move. He didn’t trust Venable’s men to protect you.”

“But why me? Why would anyone be targeting me?” Jane lifted her hand to her eyes. “Don’t start in the middle. The beginning, MacDuff.”

“I’m not certain where the beginning is yet,” he said grimly. “But I’ll tell you what Venable told me. Though I’m not sure that he told me everything.” He reached in his pocket and brought out a folded newspaper. “Do you recognize this?”

She took the newspaper. Le Monde . Feature section. “Yes, it’s an article that appeared two weeks ago. Celine was over the moon that she managed to wangle an article about the show.” A photo of herself looked up at Jane. Beside it were five of her paintings that were to appear at the exhibit. “It was taken before I left to go home on a visit to Atlanta.” She frowned. “Why?”