Iris Johansen - Pandora's Daughter

She stood up and headed for her bedroom. "I'll go get my suitcases. It will only take me a few minutes. But it's not going to give you much time to get us entry documents."

He frowned. "We can use the same ones to get back into the U.S. that we used leaving."

"But we're not going to go back to the U.S. Not yet."

His gaze narrowed on her face. "And where are going?"

"Munich, Germany."

"Why?"

"Because that's where the Ledger is." She stopped at the door. "At least, I hope it's still there. Edmund didn't get a chance to warn her."

"Who?"

"Renata Wilger. He gave the Ledger to her for safekeeping on his last trip with the circus through Munich. He was uneasy and he'd learned to obey his instincts." You re certain:

"Oh, yes." She smiled mirthlessly. "I couldn't be mistaken. He didn't tell Molino anything, but all his emotion was focused on her before he cut his throat. He was praying for her."

"Do you know anything else about where-"

"Nothing," she interrupted. "Over to you, Grady."

"Right." He was already dialing a number on his cell phone as she closed the bedroom door.

HARLEY MET THEM WHEN THEY dropped off the rental car. "You made good time. I just finished arranging for the charter." He made a face. "It wasn't easy to do since I wouldn't give them the destination. I think they suspect me of being a terrorist or something. It's only because I'm loaded with boyish appeal that I was able to pull it off." He turned to Megan. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you. Did it ever occur to you that it would be a lot healthier if you stayed away from Grady?"

She smiled. "It occurred to me."

"Where's the plane?" Grady asked. "And did you call your contact, Biel, and arrange for him to meet us in Munich with the documents?"

"Hangar fourteen." He started toward the tarmac. "And Biel will be there waiting when we get off the plane. Megan's now Ella Steinberg. I'm Henry Higworth." He smiled. "I was that close to changing it to Higgins but I was afraid that someone would catch the Pygmalion connection and might cause us a headache or two."

"This is no game, Harley."

"Sad. I always try to lighten the burden." He gestured to a Lear jet parked outside the hangar. "There she is. Nice, huh?"

"Beautiful," Megan murmured. "Do you have him working on tracking down Renata Wilger?"

"Yes, but he probably won't have anything but preliminary findings when we get there." He stepped aside for Megan to precede him up the steps to the plane. "You didn't give us much notice, Megan."

"I wasn't sure that I'd give you any notice at all. I was wondering if it wouldn't be safer for both me and Renata if I tried to find her by myself."

"Independence raises its pesky head again," Grady said. "Don't wonder any longer. It wouldn't be safer."

"How can you be certain? You and Molino have been playing cat and mouse for years. He probably knows your methods and patterns as well as you know his."

"Good point. But I've tried to periodically alter my movements so that they didn't form a pattern." He followed her up the steps and settled her in a seat and fastened her seat belt. "And evidently you did decide that we could be of some slight service to you or you wouldn't be here."

"You seem to be able to hop over borders with no trouble and you still know things that I don't."

"And once you have no use for me and you've wrung me of all needed information, then you'll cast me aside?"

"Why not?" she asked lightly. Then her smile faded. She wasn't being entirely honest and she was done with deception. "I would never leave you if you needed me. I'm too close to you. I don't like it but it's there. But that doesn't mean that I won't walk my own path."

"That goes without question." He sat down beside her. "But it's reassuring that you don't regard me as totally discardable."

"I couldn't." She tried to smile. "What if Molino killed you? If Edmund had that great an effect on me, I think you'd probably haunt me."

He shook his head. "I'd do my best not to do that. I'd want you to go on with your life and not look back. If there's any way to prevent it, you're not going to hear my voice after I bow out."

She felt a wrenching pang as she thought of Grady dead, Grady gone. The intensity of it took her by surprise. She didn't want to feel this close to Grady. It was as if that adolescent summer madness and the sexual attraction she was feeling now were blending, becoming stronger. She tried to edge away from that whirlpool of emotion. "I wonder if it's possible to control any of this. Ever since I found out about how all this psychic stuff has been surrounding me all my life I've been feeling resentful. I don't like not being in control."

"Welcome to the club. I've been trying to find answers since I was ten years old."

"You knew you had a gift that young?"

"Yes, but it didn't bother me. I was exhilarated at the thought of controlling situations. Children are instinctive savages and most savages want to be leader of the pack. It was only later that I realized that I wasn't regarded as a leader but a kind of Frankenstein."

"When?"

He shrugged. "When my father kicked me out. I was sixteen and he said I could take care of myself. He wasn't putting up with having a weirdo in his house."

"What about your mother?"

"She took off a few years before my dad decided that I wasn't welcome." He made a face. "Maybe he thought she wouldn't have left him if she hadn't had to contend with a problem child. I was a big headache to both of them. First, they took me to social workers and a couple psychiatrists paid by the state. Later they gave up and told everyone that I was a little peculiar and to just leave me alone."

"Alone? That's a terrible thing to do to a child."

"Are you bleeding for that poor kid? Don't waste your pity. I was a tough little bastard. Feel sorry for my parents. They never wanted a child anyway and then they got me."

"I don't feel sorry for them. They should have worked harder with you." She added fiercely, "And your father should never have kicked you out of the house."

"I can see I'm not going to be able to convince you that you're rooting for the wrong team." His lips lifted in a half smile. "I won't bother. I kind of like it."

She didn't like it at all. Now a protective thread had been added to the mixture of emotions she was feeling for Grady. Just the fact that he had not tried to defend or justify himself made her all the more defensive on his behalf. "Is that when you joined the service?"

He nodded. "It seemed a good way to get fed, trained, and kept out of jail. Of course, I managed to get myself in the stockade quite a few times before I started to grow up a little. Then I found my niche and I was on my way."

"I was surprised when Phillip told me that the Services used psychics. It was like something from a sci-fi movie. I always think of the military as being clear and sharp and no nonsense."

"They also believe in weapons, hi-tech or otherwise. They can swallow almost anything if it means winning a battle." He leaned back in his seat and gazed out the window as they started to taxi. "And according to Michael Travis's research almost everyone believes in some form of psychic or paranormal experience. In fact, a great percentage believes they've had a psychic episode in their lives."

She shook her head skeptically. "A great percentage?"

"Sit down at a dinner table and lead the conversation in that direction. You'll be surprised how many interesting stories you come up with."

"Stories being the key word?"

"There's an interesting theory regarding psychic abilities. Suppose that we all have varying degrees of psychic gifts but they stay safely tucked away in ninety-eight percent of the population. Michael has had MRIs and chemical tests made on the brains of psychic volunteers and the fluid balance appears to be higher and closer to the brain center. What if the fluid in that area contains a DNA factor that opens and enables the brain to function on a different level? If that chemical makeup is hereditary, it would account for talents being passed down through families."