Iris Johansen - Final Target

"I don't know. He hit me." She looked up the hill. "We have to go to the church. He and that woman are-" She stopped. "No, there's something wrong. He didn't even check to see if I was unconscious. He would know how hard to hit someone, wouldn't he? He didn't check____________________" She rubbed her temple and her fingers came away wet. She was bleeding. "He wanted me to get away and find you. He wanted you to rush back to the church. It's a trap."

He said slowly, "But if we know it's a trap, then we have the advantage."

Panic soared through her. "No, he'll be waiting for you. He'll kill you."

Travis was ignoring her. "Can you make it back up the hill? I'll go into the church alone, but I don't want to leave you here by yourself."

"Dammit, he's waiting ."

His expression was grim. "It's my shot at him. I'm going to take it." He repeated, "Can you make it up the hill?"

"I'll make it." She fell into step with him. Damn right she'd make it. She wasn't about to stay here. "But he may have-What's that smell?"

"Shit!."

At the top of the hill the old church was blazing. Fire was licking out of every window and the door.

"He torched it?"

Travis nodded, his gaze on the church, which was now an inferno.

That smell…

Jesus, she felt sick.

Because she realized what that familiar smell was.

Horrible smell, nightmare smell.

It was the smell of burning flesh.

"Come on." Travis's hand cupped her elbow. "Let's get out of here."

She couldn't stop staring at the flames. "Deschamps."

"He'd be stupid to still be here. There are already villagers running toward the church."

Yes, she saw them now. One old man wearing only pants and shoes and a woman carrying a bucket. What could one bucket of water do to this inferno?

"There's someone inside. I smell-"

"I know. But it's too late to save her. She was probably dead before he started the fire."

He was talking about the woman who had pretended to be Danielle Claron. "He killed her?"

"No big surprise. He doesn't like witnesses." He was turning her, pushing her down the hill. "He torched the Claron house too, to destroy evidence."

"But he could have waited. It doesn't make sense. I know he wanted to trap you, Travis."

"Maybe." He stopped at the van. "Can you drive? We have to get both vehicles away. There will be an investigation and we don't want to be connected."

"I can drive." She opened the door.

"Wait." He got in and checked the back. "Okay. You can get in now."

A chill went through her as she realized he had thought Deschamps might be in the van, waiting for her. "He already had his chance at me, and he didn't take it."

He was peering underneath the van. "Circumstances change."

"Where's your car?"

"Around the curve in the road."

She settled in the driver's seat. "Get in. I'll take you there and wait until we're sure he's nowhere around."

"Are you protecting me, Melissa?"

"Shut up and get in the van."

"Right."

No one appeared to be in the Peugeot or anywhere near. Maybe. She'd learned a hard lesson about appearances tonight.

She pulled up next to the car. "Hurry up, get in."

His gaze circled the woods on the side of the hill. "In a minute. I don't think he had time, but there's a possibility…" He opened the hood of the car, examined it, and then went around to the back, knelt down, and peered beneath it. "He knows about explosives, and it doesn't take much time to rig a simple bomb." He straightened up and seconds later he was in the driver's seat. "Get going. I'll follow you. If you get dizzy, pull over and we'll leave the van by the road. Galen can arrange a pickup later."

She was dizzy now. Dizzy and sick and confused. Bombs and deception and murder…

And that awful smell of burning flesh.

Galen met them as they drove up to the cottage.

"You're lucky I'm a forgiving man. It wasn't a nice thing to-You're bleeding." He lifted her down from the van and called to Travis, who was getting out of the Peugeot. "Deschamps?"

"Yes." He stopped beside Melissa. "Okay?"

"Yes."

"You don't deserve to be." He walked away, leaving her behind.

Galen gave a low whistle. "I'd better take care of that wound," he told Melissa. "In his present humor Travis would probably let you bleed to death."

She hadn't been aware of the anger seething beneath the surface. She hadn't been aware of anything but disappointment and horror…and that smell of burning flesh.

Mama. Daddy.

The forest, safe from horror and the smell of death and burning.

Jessica.

But there was no Jessica to coax her out of the forest now.

"Melissa?"

"I'm all right. But he's right, I don't deserve to be. She fooled me."

"That's no crime, only a mistake. And it didn't hurt anyone but you." They were in the living room by then. "Sit down. I'll put some antibacterial cream on that cut."

"I can do it."

"But I can do it quicker. You don't look so steady." He pushed her down into one of the chairs. "Travis called me from his car and filled me in. Do you want to talk about it?"

Flesh burning…

She moistened her lips. "It was a trap. It wasn't Danielle Claron. She was so…believable. I don't know how she knew where to call you or the other details."

"It could have been a bug at the Dumairs' home. Deschamps knew we'd be looking for Danielle Claron." He dabbed at the cut. "Travis said he bugged Jan's place and that Jan said he was a bloody expert." He spread a little ointment. "This cut isn't bad at all."

Because Deschamps hadn't really wanted to hurt her. A trap. A trap that had not been sprung. "I was a little dizzy, but I'm fine now. How's Cassie?"

"Fine." Travis came out of Cassie's bedroom. "No credit to you."

"Don't you give me a guilt trip. I knew Galen would take care of her. I didn't think I'd be gone more than a few hours."

"And you almost didn't come back at all," he said fiercely. "I told you that you shouldn't go after him."

"Then you should have let me go with you. The only reason I went alone is that I knew you were closing me out."

"So it's my fault you almost got yourself killed? You were lucky you didn't end up roasting in that church with that woman."

Scorched flesh.

Mama, wake up. Please, wake up.

She was smothering. She had to get out. "I guess I was lucky." She jumped to her feet and headed for the door. "I'm going out on the porch. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You were pretty rough on her, weren't you?" Galen asked. "She's rough enough on herself."

"She could have gotten herself killed." Travis headed for the door. "She's like a torpedo heading straight for a target and not realizing she'll be blown up too."

"Why don't you leave her alone for a while? She may need some space."

"I can't leave her alone, dammit."

"No?" Galen studied him a moment and then nodded slowly. "You're that sure he's out there?"

" Like I told you when I called you from the car, Melissa was sure it was a trap, and her instincts are good. She just didn't think far enough. Deschamps wants me, but he also wants the Wind Dancer. He set up the meeting at the church so that he could follow us back here. Did you alert your men guarding the place?"

Galen nodded. "When do you think he'll go for it?"

"When he's sure the Wind Dancer is here. So we have to make him think the Wind Dancer is someplace else and we're planning on picking it up soon. We'll make a couple of dummy calls to one of your guys and lead Deschamps down a false trail. Who's sharpest?"

"Joseph."

"Then fill him in. Deschamps can't use bugs, so he'll probably use long-range amplifiers. I figure he'll have them in place in eight or twelve hours. Have your guys try to locate him. He could set up either onshore or in a boat."