Iris Johansen - Deadlock

Garrett's not ever going to back off from protecting you now, Irana had said. I believe he tried, but it's not going to happen.

And Irana was right. He'd put his life on the line and try to keep her from being at risk.

And he could be killed doing it. Killed and tortured as Joel had been those two weeks.

Panic soared through her. No, she wouldn't allow it.

"You're too quiet. I don't like that." He pushed her away again. "What are you thinking?"

How had it happened? Sex she could accept. But this wasn't mind¬less pleasure; it was deeper and completely terrifying in its intensity. What was she thinking? I'm thinking that it would kill me if Staunton hurt you. I'm thinking that somehow I have to keep that from happen¬ing.

"Nothing." She buried her head in his chest. "I guess I was more shaken than I thought. Forget it."

He didn't move. "I won't forget it. I never forget anything about you.

Distract him. Blur the edginess. Mask the desperation. "Then I'd better make sure the memories are pleasant," she said as she moved over him. "Let's see how unforgettable I can be tonight."

HE WAS ASLEEP.

Emily nestled her head into the hollow of Garrett's shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. She wanted to lie here and feel, not think. Tonight their emotions had contained an element as desperate and explosive as the physical togetherness. She might have distracted Garrett by sex, but nothing had been blurred for either one of them.

Which meant that he would be on guard to make sure that there had been no lingering substance in the words she'd spoken before they had come together.

It would be three days until Bishop Dimitri's body was found and the police came after her and Irana.

Less than that now. It was almost morning. Two days. She had to move fast.

But how was she to know the right direction?

The same direction that Garrett was following. The phone calls. That was the only lead they had, and it could work if Pauley came through.

Or maybe even if he didn't.

Pauley…

IRANA WAS HAVING BREAKFAST in Emily's room when there was a knock on the door. "It's Dardon, Emily," he called. "You have a visitor. Peter Joslyn."

Emily instinctively stiffened.

Irana shook her head as she saw Emily's reaction. "You're the one who said we should work with him, Emily."

"I know." She got up, crossed the room, and opened the door. "Why come to see me, Joslyn?"

"You're the one to whom I owe the most penance," Joslyn said qui¬etly. "May I come in?"

She shrugged. "If you like." She stepped aside. "But it's Irana who Staunton almost shot. I'd say you owe quite a bit to her."

"Is it okay?" Dardon asked Emily. "I didn't want to bother Gar¬rett. He's been with Pauley since dawn, and he's very edgy."

Garrett hadn't been edgy toward Emily when he'd left early this morning, but he'd been quiet. Very quiet. "It's okay, Dardon."

"Good." He turned away. "Call me if you need me."

Joslyn entered the room, and Emily closed the door. "Yes, I do owe Dr. Povak a great debt," he said as he crossed the room to stand before Irana. "But when the sin is as deep as mine, one doesn't know where to start. I hope you'll let me try to make amends even if you can't forgive me."

Irana studied him, then slowly nodded. "Staunton didn't hurt me, and I believe your friend's death hurt you very much. I'm sorry for your pain. Did you get your wife and children away safely?"

He nodded. "I sent them back to London with an army of guards around them." He paused. "I had to tell them why. They wanted me to come with them. I told them I had reparations to make and that our lives might have to change."

"Really? In what way?" Emily asked coolly.

"I decided that unless we can get Staunton, I'll confess to Dim¬itri's killing."

"What?" Irana said. "As far as reparations go, that's a little extreme."

"I won't have either of you suffer for it," Joslyn said. "That's what I came to tell you."

"That's very generous, but let's hope it won't be necessary," Irana said. "We have two days to find a solution."

"It's not generous," Joslyn said. "I've always tried to do my duty to God and my family. I failed both in this. I have to do what Dimitri said we should do. I have to make peace." He turned to Emily and said, "You understand. You don't want to let me off easily. I don't want that either."

There was no doubting his sincerity, Emily thought. But sincere or not, he was right. There was no way she would say that he should get off easily. "I've no wish for you to be executed for the bishop's mur¬der. I want Staunton to pay. Yes, you deserve to be punished. But I won't give up Staunton just to see you hurting. You want to help, then let me use the hell out of you."

He nodded. "That goes without saying. Whatever I can do. Babin handled all the dealings with Staunton, so I can't help you locate him." His lips tightened. "I can't tell you how I wish I hadn't trusted Babin. He worked for me since the early days, when I first came to Russia, and never gave me any reason to doubt him. I'd promised Dimitri, and I just wanted the hammer found." He added bitterly, "But I admit to blinding myself until Staunton called me a few days ago. He told me everything that had happened and left me in no doubt that I was to blame for all of it. He said he expected me to continue to fund his search for the hammer."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him to go to hell."

"A little late."

He nodded. "And it probably sparked everything that's been hap¬pening since that night. But if we're all targets, perhaps you could stake me out, then-"

"Don't tempt me," Emily said. "But I don't think Staunton would consider you a big enough drawing card. You're not high enough on his list."

"Who is?" Joslyn asked.

She didn't answer. "But you may be able to help in some other way."

"Just let me know. It seems I'm staying here at the hotel. On this floor, actually. Garrett's orders."

She nodded. "Garrett likes to keep us all close. He wants to pro¬tect the whole world."

A shadow crossed over Joslyn's face. "Dimitri was like that. It was one of the things I respected most in him." He turned and moved to¬ward the door. "Let me know. I won't refuse you, no matter what it is."

"You didn't answer him," Irana said when the door had closed be¬hind him. "But I could do it for you. You're at the top of Staunton's list."

Emily nodded. "But there's a problem. He wants to take his time with me, and that puts me last in order."

"I don't see that as a problem." She stiffened. "Unless we're talk¬ing about drawing Staunton to you. What are you planning, Emily?"

"I don't have a plan."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes." She looked Irana squarely in the eye. It was the truth. She had nothing as well-defined as a plan. There was only a kernel of an idea that could become one. "I have no plan. Do you think I don't know that Garrett would never let me do anything like that?"

"I know that you're a determined woman when your mind is made up." Irana said. "Trust me, Emily. I know you think that Gar¬rett and I were a little arbitrary when we teamed up to do what we thought best for you. You're right. But our intentions were good, and if you decide to make a move, don't close me out."

And let Irana put her life on the line again for her? She would never forget that moment in the garden when she had been sure Irana was going to die. "I don't have a plan," she repeated. She poured her¬self a cup of coffee. "We have to wait for Pauley to come up with something. Then I'm sure Garrett will pull one together. I hope it's soon. I'm getting restless, aren't you?"

Irana nodded, her gaze still fixed on Emily's face. "It's pretty obvious.

"I've always been clear as glass to you," Emily said with affection. "And I've never minded because I knew that whatever you saw, you'd never condemn. That's pretty wonderful, Irana."