Final Target(62)

“Melissa, you’re lying to yourself. Jessica’s dead and you’ll be dead too or in prison if you don’t come with me. Then we’ll never be able to punish the man who did this to her. Do you think it’s right to let that happen?”

She stared blindly at him.

“Travis!” Galen called out.

“We’re coming.”

Melissa whispered, “Dead?”

Travis nodded. He pulled her to her feet. “Come on, Cassie will need you.”

“She said ‘Help Cassie.’ ”

“That’s right.” He pushed her toward the stairs. “But you can’t do that unless we get out of here.”

“Dead.” She suddenly stopped and looked back at Jessica. “Oh, God, it’s real.” She shuddered. “I wanted it to be another dream.” There was a world of pain in her voice.

“Come on, Melissa.”

Her gaze slowly moved to the statue. “Bring him.”

“What?”

“Bring him.”

“ No.”

“I’m not going without him. Pick him up and bring him.”

The sirens were coming from right outside. He knew there was not much time left. “You’re not thinking straight. Just come with me, Melissa.”

She shook him off and moved toward the Wind Dancer.

“Jesus.” He ran across the room, snatched the statue, grabbed her arm, and pulled her after him. “Hurry, dammit. They’ll be knocking down the door any minute.”

“Is she doing okay?” Galen glanced at Melissa’s reflection in the rearview mirror as the car pulled onto A6. “She looks like a sleepwalker.”

“She is a sleepwalker. With the amount of sedative Jessica fed her, she should be out like a light. She should never have been able to leave the apartment. I don’t know what’s keeping her going.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Maybe I do,” he said wearily. He took his handkerchief and dabbed at the blood on Melissa’s lips. “The body can be made to do amazing things when the will is strong enough.”

“Why the hell did you take the Wind Dancer? Did you think we weren’t in enough trouble?”

“She wouldn’t leave without it.” He shrugged. “And what’s one more—”

“Straw on the camel’s back?” Galen finished. “The French police are going to regard this theft as an insult to their pride. They promised Andreas absolute security for the statue. We could get them off our ass if we find a way of returning it.”

“No,” Melissa said.

Both men looked at her. It was the first word she’d uttered since they left the museum. “We have to keep it.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Travis said. “You may not be thinking clearly right now.”

“We have to keep it.”

“It’s dangerous. You saw how the police swooped down on that museum. How did they know we were there? There must have been a leak.”

“I called Andreas,” Melissa said.

Galen began to swear. “I knew it. I knew she’d do it.”

“Be quiet, Galen. It’s just as well she did call him. Deschamps was positioned on that catwalk to take us all out. Those sirens scared him off.”

“Not in time,” Melissa whispered.

“No, not in time for Jessica,” Travis said gently. “But it may have saved the rest of us.”

“I don’t care about the rest of you.”

“Not even Cassie?”

She closed her eyes. “Help . . . Cassie.”

“She’s okay. No different than she was before.”

“Help . . . Cassie.”

“We’ll help her, Melissa.” Travis pulled her head onto his shoulder. “Now try to rest. I’ll wake you when we get to the cottage.”

“Help Cas . . .”

She was asleep.

The shuttered window framed a lavender and scarlet sunset sky.

Beautiful . . .

“Take some water.” Travis held a glass to Melissa’s lips. “You’ve been out for a long time. You must be thirsty.”

She was thirsty. Her mouth felt as dry as cotton. She drank half the glass. “Out? What do you—”

Jessica.

Pain stabbed through her. White hot. “Dear God.”

He caught the glass as it fell from her hand, and drew her into his arms. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, Melissa.” His voice was muffled as he rocked her back and forth. “Christ, I’m so sorry.”

“Being sorry doesn’t do any good. She’s dead.” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t stop it.”

“No one could help her. Even if we’d gotten her to the emergency room within minutes, the wound would still have been fatal.”