Iris Johansen - Blind Alley

“I'm sure you have.” Trevor got into the driver's seat. “No, you're not going. If I find I can't do without you, I'll give you a call. But I need you here to keep an eye on Jane.”

“Quinn will do that.”

“But he won't call me and report anything that looks suspicious. He'll try to take care of it himself.”

Bartlett thought about it. “That's true. Maybe you do need me here.” He sighed. “But it would be much more exciting to go with you. I have to admit life is much more interesting with you around.”

“And how many times have you told me how happy you'll be to get rid of me and have your uneventful, comfortable life back?”

“Perhaps I've been corrupted. Oh, dear, I hope not.” Bartlett took a step back as Trevor started the car. “I'll take this period to contemplate and evaluate your effect on me. In the meantime you can be sure that Jane will be as safe as I can make her. Take care.”

“You take care.” Trevor paused. “Don't do anything foolish. If you see anything suspicious, call Quinn.”

“Certainly. See and report. I'm far too valuable to be sacrificed.” He turned back to the cottage. “And so are you. It would behoove you to be cautious.”

“Behoove? Good Lord, what a dated word.”

“I'm dated. It's part of my charm. And I'll thank you not to make fun of me.”

“I wouldn't think of it.” He pressed on the accelerator and moved down the road. “Your army of female fans would come after me with machetes.”

FOURTEEN

It's not here,” Jane muttered, her gaze glued to La Nazione on the computer screen. “Not a word.”

“It's only been two days,” Eve said. “I'm not sure what breaking into a secure Web site entails but I'd think it would take longer than that.”

“Then why hasn't he called and told us he was having trouble? He said the prep work would only take three weeks.”

“Tentatively. I believe you're the one who carved it in stone.”

She made a face. “I did, didn't I? I just wanted to push him a little.”

“I'd judge he didn't need any nudging. He was running on all cylinders when he left here.”

“Just so he didn't slow down without a—here it is!” She leaned forward, her body tense with excitement. “Just a tiny article at the bottom of page five.”

“Where?” Eve came across the room and looked over her shoulder. “It's only four lines.”

“It's just right. Enough to attract Aldo's attention and curiosity and not enough to be blatant.” Jane exited the Florence site and went to the Rome newspaper. “If he'd put anything else in, it would have been suspicious.”

“I'm sure he'd appreciate your approval.”

“He wouldn't give a damn.” Jane was scanning the articles. “But he is clever, isn't he? This must have been very difficult. . . . Here it is.” She smiled. “It's got an AP byline to make it seem it was picked up from the Florence newspaper.” She switched to the London Times site. After ten minutes she shook her head in disappointment. “Nothing.”

“Give him a break. Two out of three isn't bad.”

“I guess.” She leaned back on the couch. “At least he's making progress. Did you get through to Ted Carpenter?”

“He's in Guyana. I left a message yesterday. He hasn't called me back yet. I'll try again later.” She shook her head as Jane started to speak. “Later,” she repeated. “I'm handling this, Jane.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to step on your toes.” Her lips twisted. “My problem is that I'm not being allowed to handle anything myself. It makes me crazy and tends to make me want to reach out and grab.” She got up and moved out onto the porch with Toby at her heels. “I'm going to get some air. Let me know if you find out anything.”

“I will.” Then Eve called after her resignedly, “Okay, dammit, I'll call him back right away.”

A radiant smile lit Jane's face. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome. But don't you dare think you're manipulating me.”

Jane shook her head. “Never.” The door slammed behind her and she plopped down on the top step. At last things were beginning to happen. Not fast enough. But there was movement and action that gave her hope. She'd be happier if she could participate in that action but she could wait.

Maybe.

“Have you heard from Trevor?” Bartlett called from the path.

“No, have you?”

Bartlett shook his head. “I didn't expect it. When he gets in motion he's like a whirlwind. It's easy for him to forget me.”

“Then why did you think he'd call me?”

“Because he thinks about you all the time. You don't forget what's always with you.”

Jane made a face. “He thinks about Aldo, not me.”

Bartlett smiled. “Perhaps you're right. I've been wrong before.” He moved down the path. “But do tell me when he calls, won't you?”

If he called, Jane thought crossly. He'd promised her a call every night and he'd already broken his promise. Okay, he'd been busy and that activity had yielded rich fruit. But a promise was a promise and she was feeling strangely lonely. She'd not realized how much she'd become accustomed to the sight of him moving around the grounds, bringing her the mail in the evening, waving casually at her while he was speaking to Singer or Joe. He'd become a part of the pattern of her life and the pattern was now broken.

And it was a good thing. She didn't need any patterns that contained an erratic force like Trevor. Face it, her body seemed to respond the moment he came into view. She wasn't ignorant. She knew it was only sexual attraction but it was new to her and she wasn't sure how to handle it. He was too disturbing.

But one side of her nature liked the disturbance. The conflict was a challenge and similar to the way she'd felt when she was training Toby. Every moment an adventure, full of laughter and minor catastrophes. She found herself smiling. Trevor wouldn't be flattered at the comparison with her dog, and there was no way he'd tolerate training. Not that she'd want to get close enough to him to make the—

Her phone rang.

“Did you see the insert?” Trevor asked.

Her heart leaped and she had to steady her voice. “Yes. Why wasn't it in the English paper?”

“God, you're tough.” His tone was testy. “Give me another twenty-four hours. I have to be more careful with the English press. Unless you want it in the Sun . They'd have no problem if the story was sensational enough.”

“Aldo reads the Times, not the Sun. ”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” She paused. “You did very well.”

“She said with faint praise.”

“You don't want my praise.”

“Who said? I like stroking as much as anyone else. And since I'm limited to verbal in your case, I might as well take advantage of it.” He continued on before she could answer, “Out of line. Forget I said it. Has Eve contacted Ted Carpenter?”

“Not yet. He's in Guyana and hasn't returned her call. She's placing another call.” She stood up. “She might be finished by now. I'll go in the house and check.”

“You're on the porch?”

“Yes, why do you want to know?”

“I'm a long way from there and surrounded by ruins and hucksters hawking their wares. It's nice to be able to picture you by the lake. Clean . . .”

She felt that sudden strange warmth that was becoming too familiar surge through her, and said quickly, “Eve's off the phone. Do you want to speak to her?”

“Yes.”

“Eve.” Jane handed her the phone. “Trevor.”

Eve gave her a curious glance before she spoke into the phone. “I just hung up from talking to Ted. He says the man we need to talk to is Professor Herbert Sontag. He's been excavating Herculaneum for the past fifteen years and is well-known and respected by the Italian government. He's got his own little kingdom going there and is probably the only man who could pull off what we need done. Ted's met him several times at conferences and says he doesn't have many people skills but he's great at what he does. He said he'd call Sontag tomorrow and tell him the version of the story you concocted and ask for his cooperation.” She grimaced. “Don't thank me too soon. Ted didn't sound encouraging. He wasn't sure Sontag would give us the time of day. He'll call me back as soon as he hears from him.” She handed the phone back to Jane. “You'd better tell him to start thinking about another plan. This one's on shaky ground.”