Authors: Iris Johansen
He reached out and gripped her shoulder. “And you might take care of yourself, too. Make it a package deal.” He turned back to Eve. “I rented a jet, and you'll board it out of the Gainesville Airport.” He checked his watch. “It should be ready for takeoff in an hour. I've arranged a rental car to meet us about a mile from here, and I'll drive there and see you on board.”
“That's not necessary. I can get there myself.”
“It's necessary. I waited until most of the hubbub about the explosion was over before slipping out of the house and coming here. I don't believe that Franco is still hanging around but I have to be sure you're safely away.” He grabbed the backpack he'd set down earlier. “And I'll call MacDuff and ask him to set up the arrival in an airport where you can be under the radar.”
“Illegal,” Eve translated dryly. “Margaret would approve.”
“There are times when Margaret and I agree on the basics of self-preservation. I don't want Salazar to tap his contacts and find that an Eve Duncan arrived anywhere in the United Kingdom. We'd have to do a cover for Cara anyway. She has no documents.” He took Eve's elbow. “Come on, Cara. We need to go.”
Eve hesitated, then started with them down the trail. It wasn't a foolproof plan, and some aspects scared the hell out of her. But it was the only game in town, and Joe had made it as safe as he could under the circumstances.
Except for himself.
She knew how he operated. He was clever and he could function in conditions that were intricate and complex ⦠and dangerous as hell. He'd done it as a SEAL, and he thrived on it. Some of it was planned, other parts were pure instinct. All of it caused Eve to be afraid every minute that she knew what was happening.
But she wouldn't know, unless he told her.
And that scared her more than anything else.
“Relax. It's not going to be easy, but this is the way to handle it,” Joe murmured, sensing that disturbance. “It's only the start of the game. Franco moved forward, and we checked him. That means we're ahead.”
She nodded. “Just let me know what you're doing,” she repeated unsteadily. “I don't want you to be alone.”
“I'm not alone. That ended a long time ago. You're always with me⦔
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The pilot, Jeff Brandel, smiled down at Eve and Cara as Joe turned and walked away from the steps of the jet and headed back toward the rental car. “It should be a smooth flight. Is the little girl a nervous flyer?”
Eve shook her head. “She hasn't done much flying, but she'll handle it well. Right, Cara?”
“It's very interesting. And all the statistics say it's safe.” She looked back down at her laptop. “And Joe wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't a good pilot, sir.”
“Smart,” Brandel said. “Yep, I'm pretty good at my job.” He turned toward the cockpit. “And you're right, Quinn is tough. No excuses.” He grinned. “A little like my wife. I just got married, and she's making me toe the line.” He glanced over his shoulder at Cara. “But having a sweet kid like that one might be worth it.” He closed the cockpit door.
Eve watched from the window as Joe got into the car. He sat there, and she knew he wouldn't drive away until the plane was in the air. Joe was nothing if not thorough.
She didn't want to go, dammit.
But the plane was already taxiing down the runway, then lifting off. She could see Joe start the car and drive away.
Cara's hand was suddenly covering her own. “If you don't want to go, tell the pilot to turn around and take us back. You're both doing this for me, aren't you? I don't want you to be unhappy. It hurts me. Go back.”
“It's partly for you.” Eve squeezed her hand. “But Salazar would go after me anyway. I know too much. The minute I finished that reconstruction of Jenny and started to try to find her killer, I was on his hit list.”
“But it's mostly for me.”
“Or Jenny. She gave her life for you, Cara. She wouldn't want it to be in vain.” Her lips tightened. “I won't let it be in vain. You're going to live and be happy. And we're going to punish all the people who are trying to take that away from you as they did Jenny.”
“But you're scared about Joe. I
feel
it.”
Eve gazed at her curiously. “Do you?”
She nodded. “Jenny said that I'd feel what you feel just as she did. It's happening.” She paused. “Why, Eve? I don't understand it.”
“I don't understand it, either.” She had been trying to avoid confronting this subject with Cara. But she would not lie to her. “I can only guess.”
“She's ⦠not a dream?”
“Not for me. I don't know about you,” she said. “I never felt a connection like that before with one of my reconstructions. I knew Jenny, I saw her. We had a ⦠bond. I don't know why. We both thought it might be because she was sent to me because she needed help to save you.” She added quietly, “But I grew to love her as you do. I was sad when she said she was leaving me.”
Cara was silent. “It sounds kind ofâ Do things like that really happen?”
“You'll have to decide for yourself. It took me a long time to admit to myself that I wasn't having hallucinations when my daughter, Bonnie, came to me several years ago. She had been killed when she was only seven, and it almost destroyed me as well.” She smiled gently. “And does it really matter as long as the love is there? Dreams or spirits or hallucinations. Whatever brings you peace and love. I like to think that Jenny and I are better for the time we spent together.”
Cara nodded slowly. “She loved you, too.”
“In your dream?”
She didn't answer directly. “She loves you. That's why I have to keep you safe.” She leaned back in the seat. “But I'll go anywhere with you, do anything. We don't have to go to this Edinburgh.”
“I'm afraid we do.” She made a face. “Joe has set it up and he's probably right that it's the safest way to handle it. If there is a safe way. I just wish we didn't have to bring Jane into it.”
“The daughter you adopted. She's the one who painted the picture of you. Will she be angry that I'm causing you trouble?”
“No, she'd never blame the innocent. You'll like Jane.”
“But will she like me?”
“Count on it. I'm only worried because Jane has had such a rough life lately. She was engaged to be married, and Trevor, her fiancé, was killed. It was ⦠difficult.” Understatement for the heartbreak that had almost destroyed Jane. “But Jane is coming back to us now. I was glad when she decided to go on this treasure hunt.”
“Treasure hunt,” Cara repeated with a smile. “It sounds like pirates and that
National Treasure
movie. Sort of fun.”
Eve nodded. “It does, doesn't it? But it's been on the horizon for Jane since she was seventeen. She's just been putting it off.”
“Why?”
“I almost hate to tell you.” Eve's eyes were twinkling. “Dreams again.”
Cara's eyes widened. “What?”
“When Jane was seventeen, she was having dreams about a young actress, Cira, who lived in Herculaneum in ancient Italy at the time of the eruption of Vesuvius. I won't go into detail, but the dreams were so real that Jane became obsessed. She thought she must have seen something on the Internet or read something somewhere that might have triggered those dreams. She started to do research and found there actually was a Cira who had survived the eruption and fled to Britain, taking with her a chest of gold coins that in today's market would be astronomical in value. Cira settled there in the Highlands of Achavid, what they used to call Scotland, and founded a new dynasty. But after she arrived there, there were no tales, nothing written, about what happened to the treasure chest. It was as if it vanished once Cira reached Scotland.”
“But Jane won't admit it?”
“Jane couldn't care less about the treasure. All she wanted was to have the dreams stop and find out the end of Cira's story.”
Cara's eyes were fixed in fascination on Eve's face. “And the dreams about her did stop?”
Eve nodded. “But she wasn't happy about the end of the story.”
“Why not?”
“It turned out the dynasty that Cira founded was the MacDuff family. And the current Lord of MacDuff has wanted to find that treasure for many years. He's tried to persuade Jane to go treasure hunting with him.”
“Because of the dreams she had?”
“Partly. But also because a statue of Cira was found in the ruins of the theater in Herculaneum, and she resembled Jane. Also, there was a portrait of an ancestress, Fiona, in his family art gallery who looked identical to Jane. MacDuff tried to convince Jane she was a member of his family who had emigrated to the U.S. He even wanted to investigate and try to prove it.” She shook her head. “Jane didn't want any part of it. She told him she was happy with who she was, and she didn't want to be a MacDuff, thank you.”
Cara laughed. “Because she was your daughter. I can see why she'd feel like that.”
“Well, anyway, MacDuff has been trying to get her to go on that treasure hunt for Cira's gold ever since. Maybe he thought because of her connection with Cira it would bring him luck. Jane finally gave in.”
“Cira ⦠I wonder what she was like.”
“According to what Jane found out about her when she was researching, Cira was unique. Born a slave and fought her way from the gutters to fame and fortune. Loyal to her friends, tough to her enemies, honest when she could be.”
“It's like a wonderful story,” Cara said softly.
Eve could see how she might think so without knowing the harsher details. “Not really. Jane met her Trevor while going through it, and they fell in love. But it wasn't a happy ending. Trevor was killed recently trying to protect Jane.”
Cara was silent. “Dreams or nightmare⦔
Eve nodded. “Perhaps a little of both. If you accept them, you have to accept the risk.”
“As you did with your Bonnie?”
“It wasn't risk with Bonnie, it was my salvation.”
Cara was silent. “Dreams ⦠You and me and now Jane. It's strange, isn't it?”
“Only because we're talking about it. I imagine everyone has their secret dreams. We just have to be sure we don't let them get in the way of living our lives. Mother Teresa once said, âLife is a dream ⦠realize it.'” She reached out and touched the silky hair at Cara's temple. “And that's enough talk, period, for the time being. It's going to be a long flight, why don't you try to sleep?”
“Okay. Will you be able to sleep? You're not going to worry about Joe?”
She probably would, but there was no use troubling Cara. “It's early days. If Joe managed to fool Franco, he'll give it a little time before he starts after him and Salazar.” She hoped she was telling the truth. “We may be in a holding pattern.”
“You didn't answer me. You'll sleep?”
“Little nag.” Eve closed her eyes. “I'll sleep.”
Â
“It's done,” Franco said. “I told you I'd be able to take care of it, Salazar. A bomb on the undercarriage of Duncan's car. It took out Duncan and the kid in one explosion.” He laughed. “And you should have seen Quinn standing there on the road staring at the fire while the fire trucks tried to put it out. He looked sick. I showed him he can't get the best of me. I've been waiting for that since he stopped me from taking the girl at the hospital.”
“But he did get the best of you there. Are you sure that he didn't do the same thing this time?”
“The cops questioned the neighbors and two separate women saw Duncan and the kid drive by their houses only a few minutes before the car blew.”
“You didn't see it yourself?”
He was silent. “I was waiting for them to get to the house. The car blew a couple miles down the road. But I was there within two minutes, and the bomb did its work. I put enough C-4 to practically vaporize the car and anyone in it. I did a quick check in the woods before the police got there, and there were no bodies or footprints. They were definitely in that Toyota.”
“Proof?”
“I'll have it in a few days. It will take that long to scrape together what's left of them and attempt an ID. Which they'll have real trouble getting, especially in the kid's case. But they may be able to tell if it's a woman and a child. I'll let you know as soon as the report comes in.” He paused, waiting for the praise he knew wouldn't come. “You said you wanted both of them dead, bodies destroyed, no way to connect you with the kid. I did everything right. Everything that Walsh screwed up on. Admit it.”
“I'll admit it when you show me proof,” Salazar said. He was silent a moment. “But you may have done a sufficient job. A little showy. Officials in the U.S. don't take kindly to car bombs. It makes them feel threatened. All that terrorist stuff. And Quinn is a detective, and he particularly wouldn't appreciate having his lover blown up in that manner.”
“It was perfect. The lack of identification was just what you wanted.”
“And you think Quinn is going to take it without acting like a raging bull? I don't believe that's true.”
“Then let me take him out.”
“I was just going to suggest that, but wait until you have the ID on Duncan and the kid. And don't do anything as attention catching as that explosion. Something quiet, perhaps even appearing accidental? Or maybe suicide. Give him a day or two after he finds out about Duncan, then take care of it.” He laughed. “If he doesn't take care of you first.”
Franco felt rage sear through him. “He's no threat to me. Naturally, I'll do what you want me to do. I'll tell you when it's done.” He hung up.