Final Target(12)
“But you say I’m such an honorable man.”
“I could be mistaken. Tell Danley I won’t be more than five minutes.”
“Call whomever you please.” Andreas started for the door. “I’ll make very sure we’re not followed tomorrow night, Travis.”
“I’d be pretty stupid to try anything like that, wouldn’t I?” He started to dial. “Just insurance. Good night, Mr. President.”
“Jessica!”
Melissa jerked up in bed, her heart pounding.
Her jaw felt sore and she knew she’d been screaming.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
The T-shirt she slept in was soaking wet with sweat, but she was ice cold. She swung her legs to the side of the bed and buried her head in her hands.
As soon as she stopped shaking, she’d phone Jessica and then everything would be fine. No, she couldn’t keep running to Jessica. She had to be strong.
Emerald eyes staring at the blood pooling on the floor.
She jumped up, went into the bathroom, and drank a glass of water in four gulps. After wrapping herself up in her terry robe, she turned on all the lights in the apartment, then snuggled down in the worn armchair by the window.
It was going to be all right. She was still cold, but her heartbeat was steadying. She could make it. Only three more nights until she’d be home with Jessica.
Blood pooling on the floor . . .
Don’t scream. Don’t scream.
Emerald eyes . . .
Don’t scream.
“Nice house.” As they drove through the gates, Travis studied the columned brick building set back from the road. “Shades of Tara.”
“What do you know about Tara?” Andreas asked. “From the report Danley gave me on you, you’ve never spent much time in the U.S.”
“My father always considered himself an American even though he chose to live abroad. He found it much easier to conduct business outside this country.”
“Smuggling?”
Travis smiled. “Don’t be crass. He was a romantic. Until the day he died, he thought of himself as a pirate.”
“But you never considered yourself anything but a criminal.”
“He chose his ‘career’ as a young man, he loved the excitement. I grew up with the reality of the underbelly of the game.”
“Not the excitement?”
“Oh, yes. After all, I’m my father’s son.” His gaze was on the manor. “That’s where Cassie is? Who’s taking care of her?”
“Two nurses and her doctor, Jessica Riley.”
“But no progress?”
“Not yet.” Andreas turned to look at him. “Do you care?”
“Is that so strange? Let’s just say I have a vested interest. I don’t like to leave a job half done.”
“Stay away from my daughter. I don’t want her reminded of anything connected to that night.”
“If she had to be reminded, you wouldn’t be needing a doctor.”
“You heard me.” The limousine drew to a stop at the gatehouse. “Stay away from Cassie. I’m going to tell Dr. Riley exactly who you are and what you’re doing here. And I’ll give her orders that you’re not permitted near my daughter.”
Travis threw up his hands. “Whatever you say. I’m perfectly content to stay in my own little world.” He got out of the limousine. “One last item of business. I know it’s tempting to have my calls monitored, but I’d consider that a deal breaker. Besides, I’ll be calling only one person. Jan van der Beck in Amsterdam. He’ll be my go-between with any and all sources, and if he tells me your people are acting even a little bit intrusive, the deal’s off.”
“Why are you telling me about van der Beck?”
“You think I’m betraying him.” He shook his head. “I’m making sure he’s protected.”
Andreas was silent a moment. “Your phone won’t be tapped.”
“Thank you. Then I’ll be in touch.”
“No, I’ll be in touch.” Andreas motioned for his driver to go on. “You can bet on it.”
Travis watched the car move up the curved driveway. There were lights on in the upper floor of the manor. Cassie’s room? Not his business. He turned and opened the door of the gatehouse. As long as he kept away from Cassie and was able to throw Andreas tidbits of information, he’d be permitted to stay here in safety. That was all that was important.
The gatehouse consisted of a living room, kitchen, and bedroom and was comfortably furnished. He spent the first thirty minutes checking for bugs and found five. There were more sophisticated means of surveillance, but they required a truckload of equipment, and he doubted the Secret Service agents would try them once they learned the bugs had been destroyed. The advantage of surveillance lay in the subject not knowing he was being monitored.