Iris Johansen - Final Target

It was over an hour later when she opened her eyes.

"Hi." Travis was sitting in the chair next to the bed. "How are you?"

"Okay" she whispered. She kissed Cassie's forehead before slipping out of bed." It took a while to get her to sleep."

"What the hell happened? She screamed like a banshee when I stopped talking to her. It scared me silly."

"I was pretty scared myself."

"But it worked out all right?"

She nodded. "Breakthrough. She admitted to me and to herself that there were no monsters in the tunnel."

"So no more nightmares?"

"God, I hope not. Her imagination is powerful enough to create whatever she wants to. But at least she's aware now that she was lying to herself. The best possible result would be for her to start doubting the reason she thinks she's in the tunnel."

"And what is that?"

"The Wind Dancer wants to keep her there to be safe."

"Can you convince her that's not true?"

"I'll try to nibble away at it." She turned off the lamp on the nightstand. "I only hope it doesn't take long. I'm going to make a cup of decaf and try to get back to sleep. Do you want one?"

"Why not?" Travis followed her to the kitchen and watched her as she made the coffee. "The two of you didn't need me tonight, did you? That's why you sent me away. To prove to Cassie that she could do without me."

"And we did it." She sat down at the table. "That should make you happy. You're free of her."

"That's not entirely fair. I've never begrudged my help with Cassie."

"Even though you used it as a bargaining tool."

"Touche." He lifted his cup to his lips. "It's the nature of the beast. I'm no saint either, Melissa. I've never pretended to be."

No, he'd always been open with them about his character and motivations. The way he thought might be as convoluted as a Chinese puzzle, but they'd always known where they stood with him. "I guess you had your reasons. You said you were worried about your friend Jan. It seems you had cause."

"More than I knew."

"Tell me about him."

"Why?"

Melissa glanced away from him. "I don't know. I don't believe it's easy for you to draw close to people. I suppose I'm curious what kind of man you would call a friend."

"A good man. He called himself selfish, but he was always there for me when I needed him. Jan was like family. He and my father were in business together. For years."

"What kind of business?"

He smiled. "An occasional art theft, but mostly smuggling. My father was a true adventurer. He thought he was some kind of swashbuckler. He lived for excitement. Jan was always the practical, calming factor in my life. At the time I didn't appreciate him when he tried to keep my father from taking me on the runs. He always said it was too dangerous, and we used to have some gigantic brouhahas."

"Your father actually took you along?"

"Sure, he thought it was educational."

"And was it?"

"You bet. I learned a lot. Of course, very little of it was legal."

"Weren't you in school?"

"Correspondence school. Jan insisted. Then, when my father died, Jan took me to Amsterdam and put me in a formal school there."

"How old were you when your father died?"

"Thirteen."

"With a background like that, you must have been a shock to the other students."

"Not so much. I was fairly subdued at the time. My father's death wasn't pretty, and I got a little roughed up myself."

"What happened to him?"

"He stepped on the toes of the head of a drug cartel in Algiers. They blew up our boat."

Her eyes widened in shock. "And you were on it?"

He nodded. "So was Jan. My father was down below and the blast killed him. Jan and I were on deck and were thrown overboard. I cracked my head on some debris and Jan had to tow me to shore. I was in the hospital for weeks. He never left me. When I was well enough, he took me to Amsterdam."

"And what about your father's murder?"

"Do you mean the police? In the business we were in, unless you wanted to end up in prison, you didn't go to the police. You took care of the problem yourself."

"Not if you're only thirteen years old."

Travis smiled. "I didn't stay thirteen."

She felt a chill as she studied his face. "What did you do?"

"Why, what any kid would do. I studied, I played soccer, I read books." He stood up and took his cup to the sink. "And I waited."

"And then?"

"You don't want to know the details." He rinsed out the cup and set it on the shelf. "I took care of it."

He was right, she didn't want to know the details. It was clear they would be both violent and savage.

"Shocked?" He was studying her expression.

"You shouldn't be. You knew I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth like you. We're as different as we can be."

"Because you wanted revenge?" She shook her head. "We're not different at all."

"Maybe not in feeling, but I guarantee we'd differ in execution. When it concerns someone I care about, I'm not into quick, neat kills." He paused. "So don't think you're going to get in my way."

She stared at him without speaking.

"Dammit, let me do it." His hands clenched into fists. "You think it's easy to kill a man?"

"I don't believe it would be hard to kill Deschamps. Like stepping on a cockroach." She stood up. "Or hitting it on the head with my silver spoon. Good night, Travis."

"Melissa, don't-" He drew a deep breath. "I may be free of Cassie, but she still needs you. You promised Jessica."

"You don't need to remind me. But she's better now. Have you heard any more from Galen?"

"No."

"But you would tell me?" When he didn't reply, her lips tightened. "I thought as much. You're closing me out. Our partnership was fragile at best. It's good to know where we stand."

"Deschamps will kill you. Listen to me. You're going after this guy as if you were some kind of commando. I know you. I've never seen anyone who loves life as much as you do. How do you yhink you'll feel taking a life?"

"I'llfeel right . He killed my sister. And I'll do anything I have to do."

"Leave him to me, Melissa."

Anger suddenly flared in her. "The hell I will." She strode to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Shit, she shouldn't have done that. She could have woken Cassie.

No, the little girl was still asleep.

Her anger slowly left her as she sat down on the bed and gazed at Cassie. "You have to get well, baby," she whispered. "You're coming so close. You have to come out. You owe it to Jessica."

Cassie stirred.

Melissa froze. She had never seen her do that when Jessica had talked to her. Jessica had said she could sense a response, but this was actual physical movement.

"Cassie?"

The child turned her head away.

Rejection. But that was a response too.

"Okay." She swallowed. "One step at a time. It seems we came closer tonight than I thought. Now, I'll just sit here and talk to you. And you'll listen, won't you? We're going to talk about the Wind Dancer and you and me and the way to get rid of the monsters forever…"

"Hello, Travis. You're proving to be exceptionally annoying."

He stiffened. "Who is this?"

"Don't you recognize my voice?"

He inhaled sharply. "Deschamps?"

"Do you know what beauty you destroyed?" Deschamps's voice was harsh with pain.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's just coincidence that my house was invaded and destroyed when I know you must be searching for me? I don't think so. It was you, wasn't it?"

"I'm not the one who blew up your place. You set an explosive."

"It wouldn't have gone off if you hadn't tried to enter the room."

"You're the one who destroyed it. Why?"

"It wouldn't have been mine any longer. I'd have had to think of it as belonging to you or whomever you sold it to. It would have spoiled it for me."