Final Target(13)
He did a final check on the books in the built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace and found two more bugs. He smiled as he realized one had been tucked behind a book by Dr. Jessica Riley, Into the Light. Not very clever. A book written by the owner of Juniper would automatically attract attention.
He sat in a chair, took out his digital phone, and called van der Beck. “I’m settled. Is everything set up?”
“In place.”
“Then start negotiations.”
“You’re safe?”
“Stop being a mother hen, Jan. You’re the one who’s dealing with the bad guys. I’m surrounded by America’s Finest.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“I’m safe, Jan.”
“See that you stay that way.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He hung up and leaned back in the chair. Everything was set. He’d done the best he could. Would it be enough?
At least he had Jan doing the negotiations in Amsterdam. He could count the people he trusted on one hand. How long had it been since he’d accepted anyone at face value? Not since he’d been Cassie’s age. He hadn’t yet learned cynicism or that greed had a dazzling way of blinding a man. During those days when Jan and his father had taken him on their trips to Algiers, life had been full of excitement.
He went over to the window and looked up at the lighted window in the manor. He had a fleeting memory of Cassie’s face that night at Vasaro. She’d never accept anything at face value again. She’d been torn away from childhood.
It wasn’t his business. She was being cared for by experts, by this Dr. Riley. Just because he was plagued by the nagging feeling of leaving something unfinished was no reason to endanger his position here.
He turned away from the window. He’d take a shower and then hit the sack.
He stopped in the bedroom doorway, went back to the bookcase, and picked up Jessica Riley’s book. It didn’t mean anything. He often read himself to sleep. Besides, he made a good part of his living dealing in information, and it never hurt to know everything about his situation.
It had nothing to do with Cassie Andreas.
4
“You understand?” Andreas demanded.
“You’ve made yourself more than clear,” Jessica said as she walked him out. “No contact with the gentleman in the gatehouse.”
“I don’t think you’d consider him a gentleman.”
“According to you, he saved Cassie’s life. That qualification is hard to dismiss.”
“A single action doesn’t eliminate the instability of a lifetime.”
“I deal with instability all the time. It’s how I make my living.”
“Well, you have no cause to deal with this particular instability.” Andreas walked down the front steps. “Ignore Travis. He won’t be here long. You have your hands full.” He looked back at Cassie’s window. “No nightmare tonight. That’s good, isn’t it?”
“It’s always good. They tear her apart.” And Cassie’s nightmares were becoming more violent. The aftereffect was that she went even deeper into withdrawal. But Jessica wasn’t about to mention that to her father. He had little enough hope. “Will you be here tomorrow night?”
He shook his head. “I have to go to Japan for trade talks. I’ll be gone almost two weeks, but my wife will be calling every day for a report. You know how to get in touch with me.”
Jessica watched the car move slowly down the driveway before her gaze switched to the gatehouse. A light was burning in the bedroom at the back of the house. Evidently, the unstable Mr. Travis was still awake.
His arrival was an interesting development. Interesting and perhaps . . . promising. She might be able to use Michael Travis.
God knows, she’d use anything or anyone to stop Cassie from descending any deeper into the darkness.
“I’m here.” Melissa took the front steps two at a time to envelop Jessica in a bear hug. “Roll out the red carpet. Strike up the band.”
“I think that line’s from Hello, Dolly! and you’re no Barbra Streisand.” She gave her sister a fierce hug in return. “But I’m glad to see you anyway. Good trip?”
“Until I got to the front gates.” She stepped back and looked down at Jessica. “Have you shrunk? I’m too old to have grown an inch.”
“You’re just annoying enough to do it. Why couldn’t I be the one to take after Dad?”
“It comes in handy on the basketball court. But you’re more the southern belle clinging— Who is that?” Melissa had caught sight of the runner at the far end of the driveway.