Iris Johansen - Final Target

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen. My mother and father and I were driving home from one of his favorite restaurants in Georgetown. I was in the backseat." She moistened her lips. "A car ran us off the road and down an incline. There was an explosion. I couldn't get the door open. I knew my father was dead, but my mother was screaming in the front seat. She was on fire. And the smell of burning flesh…"

"That's enough."

"I finally managed to get out. I opened the passenger door and pulled Mama out and started beating at the fire. But I couldn't get it out and she was screaming…" She swallowed. "And then she stopped screaming."

"And then you went away to your forest."

"Yeah, it seemed the thing to do at the time." She drew a deep breath. "I was a selfish bitch. I should have been there for Jessica instead of becoming the burden of the century."

"I'd say you had cause." His hand tightened around hers. "And I'd bet Jessica agrees."

She hadn't realized he had taken her hand. She should move it.

What the hell. She didn't want to move it. His grasp felt warm and strong and gave her a sense of security. It was odd that a stranger would give her this feeling of safety. "Anyway, when I came back, I tried to get off Jessica's welfare roll. I went to high school, took special tutoring, and then entered the university."

"I would have thought you'd travel or just have a good time for a while."

"I had a good time. I ran, I played tennis, I learned to fly a plane. I made good friends." She smiled. "I always have a good time. That's what life's about on the outside. Enjoying every moment.

But Jessica needed to know I was a stable, solid citizen. I can't tell you how disappointed she is about this Cassie development." She met his eyes. "So do you think you know me well enough now, Travis?"

He shook his head. "I have an idea I've just scratched the surface." He released her hand and stood up. "But it's been interesting. I didn't think you'd be this frank with me."

"Being enigmatic is too complicated for me. I'll leave that to you." She settled back down in bed. "Now turn out the light and let me go to sleep."

"I'm on my way." He switched off the lamp and moved toward the door. "Good night, Melissa."

"Travis."

"Yes."

"Why did you come back up here?"

"Why do you think?"

"You think being father confessor is going to draw us closer together and give me confidence in you?"

"You believe I'm that Machiavellian?"

"If you'd be as frank with me as I was with you, I'd find out."

"Well, you dismissed one of the most interesting reasons."

"What?"

"I never said I didn't want to screw you. I just said it wasn't my intention."

She burst out in laughter. "Flatter the lady and dodge the question. Jesus, you are Machiavellian. Get out of here, Travis."

She was still smiling as he left. He was utterly impossible…and much too stimulating. She could feel the blood tingling through her body, and her mind was humming and wide awake. It was entirely possible that he'd come here because he'd wanted to allay her suspicions for some reason.

It was also possible that he'd wanted to open the door to a sexual encounter. His last remark had been provocative as well as amusing, and if she'd responded differently, he might have turned around and come back.

The idea was too intriguing. What kind of lover would Travis be? She shied away from the thought even as she felt her body ready. She'd already promised herself that she wouldn't worry Jessica, and she wasn't about to sneak around behind her back.

So concentrate on how safe she'd felt when he'd been holding her hand. That's a nice, platonic thought. If Travis wanted to be buddies, that was fine. It was sex that disturbed the mind as well as the senses, and she had enough disturbances in her life just then.

Travis quietly let himself out of the manor and went down the porch steps. It had been a fascinating evening, and not the least interesting facet had been the time spent with Melissa Riley. She had thought the visit had been planned, but she was wrong. It had been pure impulse, and he was not an impulsive man.

Curiosity?

Yes, he was curious, and he'd been rewarded more richly than he'd expected. She was probably the most frank, open person he'd ever met.

And her full-bodied laugh had been as sensual as a hand stroking him.

Jan had once said a man should listen to a woman laugh to determine how good she'd be in bed.

Well, he'd probably never know how good Melissa Riley was in bed. Since her sister was so protective, it would be courting trouble to move in that direction.

But some things were worth a good deal of trouble.

Forget it. He'd once mentally compared Melissa Riley to a firecracker and he didn't need to set off any more rockets than he had already. The situation was explosive enough.

"Karlstadt says he'll give you twenty million," Jan van der Beck said. "Not a dollar more."

"If he'll go twenty, he'll go twenty-five. Keep pushing."

"You can say that, but Karlstadt doesn't push easily."

"Then you'll earn your thirty percent."

"His people aren't above taking me out to the country and trying to squeeze your whereabouts out of me."

"Isn't it lucky you don't know?"

"Lucky for you."

"What did you find out from Henri Claron?"

"Nothing definite. I'm still working on him."

"He knows something?"

"Oh, yes. Henri's not a good actor and he's a frighten ed man. Almost as frightened as his wife. She kept looking at me as if I were torturing Henri."

"If he's that nervous, I'm surprised he hasn't been erased."

"He could have taken out insurance." He switched subjects. "Karlstadt's getting very edgy. He's heard about the Russians, and thinks you may be dealing with them too."

"A little worry never hurt anyone."

"Yes, it has, and this time it may be me."

"I promise I won't leave you hanging out on a limb."

"If he goes to twenty-five million, you'd better be prepared to wrap this up in a hurry."

"Then work on Henri Claron."

"What does one have to do with the other?"

"Everything. It all has to come together to get me back to Amsterdam. Come on, Jan, you can do it."

"I'm dealing with Karlstadt. I don't have time. Maybe I can find someone else to put the squeeze on Henri." He sighed. "I'lldo my best, Michael."

"One more thing. Can you do some snooping on the Wind Dancer?"

"What? I will not help you steal that statue, Michael."

"I don't want to steal it. I just want to know about security and if it's going on tour anytime soon."

"That sounds pretty suspicious to me. Forget it. I have too much on my plate."

"Well, maybe later." Travis put away his phone and moved over to stand at the window. Karlstadt wasn't the only one on edge. He'd never seen Jan this disturbed, and the Dutchman wasn't one to go off the deep end without cause. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the Wind Dancer. It had just occurred to him that since he had found Cassie at the foot of the statue, it might be an avenue worth exploring. Ordinarily, Jan would have agreed with only a few complaints, but his refusal had been curt. It was obvious that he was very worried.

There was still time though. As long as they were bargaining, Jan was safe. Karlstadt would be dangerous only after the deal was made. At that point Travis would have to move with lightning speed to avoid Karlstadt suspecting a stall.

No lights in Cassie's room tonight. He'd been there three nights already this week. Jessica had started calling him when the episodes began, and they had been able to cut the last one to under fifteen minutes.

What would happen to Cassie Andreas when he left?