Final Target(52)
“You know why,” Travis said wearily. “I made a promise and I want to get it over and done with.”
She closed her eyes. “Shit.”
“I agree with you.” He put on his shirt. “I know you hoped I might be thrown off course by Jan’s—” He stopped. “Death.”
It hurt him to say the word. She could feel his raw pain. She wouldn’t feel it, dammit. Her eyes opened and she glared at him. “I can’t help it if your friend died. He must have been crazy or he’d never have thrown his lot in with you. You should have learned your lesson, but you haven’t. You’re going forward blindly, not caring who you hurt.”
“I won’t hurt anyone.”
“Tell that to your friend Jan.”
He flinched. “You would have had a ball practicing medicine in the old days before they discovered anesthesia.” He finished buttoning his shirt. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go outside and find Galen. I need some air.”
Her hands clenched as she watched him leave. She had caused him pain, but she would be damned if she’d show him the remorse she felt. He was tough enough to take almost anything, and she had to be just as tough.
She carried Jessica’s medical bag back to the bedroom and put it on the chair by the nightstand. Jessica was curled up on the bed next to Cassie. She stood looking down at the troubled child and her sister, who was willing to give up everything to protect her patient. They were both sleeping deeply, and she felt a sudden surge of protectiveness toward them. Strange. Jessica had always been the caregiver, the safety net in a shaky world.
Not now. Jessica was beyond her depth. Hell, maybe Melissa was too, but she couldn’t let that matter.
She had to dive in, try to keep them all afloat and hope they didn’t drown.
She moved over to the other nightstand, opened Jessica’s handbag, and began to search through it.
“You okay?” Galen asked as he walked toward Travis. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Because of this wound? I remember hearing about a time in Tanzania when you walked five miles with a machete stuck in your leg.”
“Yeah, but not every man is a superman like me. And I always take R and R when I can get it.” He checked his watch. “You have forty-five minutes before transport arrives. Go on back in the house and sit down.”
“It’s more restful out here.”
Galen nodded. “I can see your point. She definitely doesn’t want you going after the Wind Dancer.”
“She’ll have to get used to the idea.” Travis leaned back against the doorjamb. “Have you been able to finalize it?”
“I had a man contact Paul Guilliame, the assistant curator of the museum. He’s known to be open to bribes.”
“The Wind Dancer is a little different.”
“But Guilliame’s frailty of character should hold us in good stead if the money’s enough and the presentation is right.” He smiled. “And my presentation is always right.”
“There’s something else I need you to do.”
Galen gazed at him quizzically.
“I think I know the man who killed Jan. He certainly knew me. He wanted me dead, not Jan.”
“You recognized his face?”
He shook his head. “The eyes were vaguely familiar. Green, slanted a little . . . but he had a fake beard.”
“So what do you want from me?”
“Find someone to break into Interpol’s computer banks for me. I need to look at mug shots.”
“Unless you have a starting place, it could take you the next fifty years to go through that many records.”
Travis knew that, but he had to begin somewhere. “Then it will take me fifty years. Just get me the hacker.”
Galen nodded. “I can’t promise to deliver him by the time we get to Paris, but I’ll find someone.”
“Good.” It wasn’t good. He couldn’t see much good in anything right now. Jan . . .
“Do you want to talk about him?” Galen asked quietly. “Sometimes it helps.”
Travis shook his head. “He’s dead.” His lips twisted. “There’s nothing to say.”
“It’s not your fault. Jan’s been in the business a long time. He knew what he was doing.”
“I know that.”
“But you’re alive and your friend is dead.” Galen shrugged. “Tough. But deal with it.”
“I am. Just get me the hacker.”
“Consider it done. I’ve just thought of a man who might be able to do it. Stuart Thomas. He’s a little weird, but there’s nothing he doesn’t know about computers.” His phone rang and he answered it.