Final Target (24 page)

Because the pain was too deep and he wasn't a man to show his feelings.

"Did he know you loved him? Did you tell him?"

"No, I didn't tell him. But I think he knew."

"Good. That was one rule I made for myself after Jessica brought me back. Life's too short not to have every emotion out in the open. If someone deserves love, then they deserve to know they have it."

"That's a very perilous philosophy."

"It's more perilous not to tell someone they're loved. I would have regretted it all my life if Jessica hadn't known I-" She cleared her throat to rid it of huskiness and headed for the door." I won't be long. I just need to clear my head. Thirty minutes or so…"

She walked very fast along the beach, her back straight and her head high.

She looked like a soldier going into battle, Travis thought.

She's a fighter.

They were the words she had used to describe Cassie, but they also applied to Melissa. A scarred warrior going forth to fight Cassie's monsters.

What the hell was he doing standing there watching her? She was absorbing entirely too much of his attention, when he needed to focus on getting himself out of this mess and going after Deschamps. He couldn't even give lust as an excuse, although that had been there between them from the beginning. How could you lust after a woman who made you want to heal and protect at the same time? Come on, admit it, he was a man and, hell, yes, he wanted to get her in bed. It didn't matter that she was hurting and he was torn with compassion. Maybe because sex was the safest relationship he could have with her. Anything else would involve him in ways that could change his life, and he had long ago opted out of the path she was traveling. He didn't need to let himself in for the role of knight trailing at the heels of a damsel fending off dragons.

He had his own monsters to subdue, and there was nothing idealistic about that battle. It was going to be dirty and fraught with greed and violence.

And it was time he set about doing it. He reached for his phone and dialed the number Galen had given him for Stuart Thomas.

"I've found a trail," Galen said when Travis answered his phone the next evening. "Danielle Claron's parents, Philip and Marguerite Dumair, still live in the village where she grew up. Jeanne Beaujolis lived on the next block, and she was in and out of Danielle's house all during their childhood. She visited them frequently even after she took the job of nurse to Cassie. From talking to the neighbors, I gather she boasted a lot about her fine position and was a trifle patronizing to the villagers."

"Have you been to see the Dumairs?"

"Not yet. I've been scoping out the neighborhood to find out if anyone's seen anyone of Deschamps's description in the village."

"And?"

"No luck."

"Then talk to the Dumairs and give them your phone number. They don't have to tell us where their daughter is if they don't trust us. They just have to give her the message that we're offering money and protection from Deschamps if she'll come out of hiding and tell us anything she knows about him."

"How much money?"

"The limit."

"Our pockets are pretty lean right now unless you want to use the diamonds."

"If I have to, I'll tap the Swiss account."

"And chance having the CIA breathing down your neck?"

"I can't use the diamonds and I've already promised Thomas cash in exchange for the diamond. Send him ten thousand from your fund, will you?"

"Thanks. I live to please. Why?"

" It's safer than my going into my accounts. As far as we know, Andreas isn't aware you're involved yet."

"A state that can't go on forever." Galen sighed. "Danley must have heard of my cleverness and brilliant ingenuity. Such perfection doesn't go unnoticed. It's only a matter of time until he decides I'm the only one who could successfully keep you out of his clutches."

"True."

"You're agreeing only because you want me to send Thomas the money."

"Also true."

"Have you talked to Karlstadt yet?"

"After you pick up the diamond from Thomas. I want to be able to tell Karlstadt it's been retrieved."

"He may decide to cut your throat regardless."

"Not as long as I have the rest of the diamonds."

"Except the ones the CIA are holding."

"I'll have to do some negotiating there. All you have to worry about is negotiating with the Dumairs."

"I'd judge that a little safer." A pause. "I had some other news. I think I'm on track to find out where Deschamps stays when he's in Paris."

"What?"

"You told me to put out feelers. I made contact with Pichot, who was with the Sons of Liberty group about the same time as Deschamps. He may be able to tell me something."

"For money?"

"No, he owes me a favor."

"When will you know?"

"It may take a while. Pichot wants to make sure Deschamps won't find out he was the one who told me." He changed the subject. "How are Melissa and Cassie doing?"

"Better than expected. Cassie hasn't had any more nightmares. Melissa believes there's a chance she won't have them again."

"And she should know. Our Melissa is a little on the fey side."

"Why do you say that?"

"You may not regard her tiny idiosyncrasies as unusual, but my mum taught me to always be wary of things that go bump in the night."

"You never knew your mother."

"You really know how to spoil a story." He paused. "Melissa…sees too much, Travis."

"Some people say the same of you."

"But I don't go bump in the night."

"And if you do, they never see you coming."

He chuckled. "Have you noticed that you always defend her? Maybe she's got the old voodoo on you."

"Don't be an asshole."

The chuckle became a laugh. "Just thought I'd call it to your attention. I'm not attacking her. I like her. How could I help it? Except for those little idiosyncrasies, she's just like me. Give her my best. Good-bye, Travis."

"Call me when you've talked to the Dumairs." He hung up.

Paris

"Ready?" Galen slipped the phone into his pocket after talking to Travis." Let's do it, Pichot."

"You lied to him."

"My mum never taught me the virtues of sharing." He moved toward the car. "Cardeau was one of mine and Deschamps killed him." He smiled. "Besides, I'm much better at this than Travis. It's one of my specialties."

"I know." Pichot grimaced. "I'm counting on it. I want to get out of this alive."

"You will." Galen started the car. "Now, where is this place?"

"Number fifteen Rue Lestape."

"Was that Galen on the phone?" Travis turned to see Melissa a few feet away, hair tousled, wearing a navy blue Sorbonne nightshirt.

"Yes."

"Has he found Danielle Claron?"

He shook his head. "He's trying to persuade her parents to give her a message if they know where she is. They live in St. Ives, a small village outside Lyon, not too far from Henri Claron's farm."

"There's a chance they do know?"

"Don't we all cling to our parents? It's natural to run to them for safety. Some say it's the strongest bond we have in our lifetime." He looked beyond her to the bedroom. "Cassie?"

"Okay." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Stubborn. It's hell getting in and harder to make her listen. I have to plant myself and keep talking."

"What do you talk about?"

"The outside. Her father and mother. The Wind Dancer." She sat down in a chair and tucked one leg beneath her. "You."

"Me?"

"You're the bridge between the tunnel and the outside." She made a face. "She still trusts you. I'm the enemy right now."

"You can't make her understand?"

"She's seven years old. I'd have dug my heels in too if Jessica had tried the same tactics."

"And you're still sure they're the right tactics?"

"I have to be sure. Otherwise I'm lost. There's got to be a breakthrough soon." She leaned her head back on the chair. "I'm as impatient as you are to get her well."

"I've never said I was impatient."

"You didn't have to say it. I can
feel
it."

He smiled. "I'm glad Galen isn't here. He remarked on the fact that you're a little on the fey side."

"Did he? I thought he'd picked up on a slip I made. He doesn't like anyone knowing him too well."

"Slip?"

She moved her shoulders uncomfortably. "Sometimes I know…things."

"Telepathy?"

"For God's sake, no. I'd want to jump in the river if I had that kind of albatross around my neck."

"What about Cassie?"

"That's different. Everything about Cassie has been different. Usually I just…sometimes I pick up on things."

"And you picked up on the fact that I'm impatient."

She shifted in the chair. "It's hard to hide that. You have every right to be impatient. You want to be rid of us so that-"

"You're right, I want to be rid of you." He drew a deep breath. "Right now. Go back to bed, Melissa."

" In a few minutes."

"Now."

"I think we should talk this out. There's too much-" She inhaled sharply as she met his gaze. "Travis?"

"It doesn't take much talent to read my mind right now, does it?"

"No."

"Then get yourself back to bed and let me think of something besides those gorgeous long legs and what's between them."

She slowly uncurled herself from the chair. "I can't-It's not the right time, Travis."

" I know that." He tried to keep the edge from his voice. "I'm not a fool. But we both know it's been there from the beginning." He grimaced. "And my mind may tell me one thing, but my body doesn't recognize mourning as a valid reason to go dormant. It's all for propagating the species. So get out of here, will you?"

"I'm going." But she still stood there. "It's not that I-"

" I know. Wrong time." He reached for the book on the table. "And probably the wrong man. We could have a hell of a lot of fun, but I can't see you doing a one-night stand. You have too much Jessica in you."

"I'm nothing like Jessica." She moistened her lips. "But you're right, I do have problems with ships that pass in the night. I need to know where I am with people these days."

"You know. You've seen right through me since the day we met. Most of the time you didn't like what you saw."

"That's not true. It was just that the situation was complicated and you were making it more complicated. I had to do what-" She moved toward the door. "Good night, Travis."

She was gone.

Open mouth, insert foot. Dammit, he should have kept quiet.

Hell, no, they were sharing close quarters and he had never been one to suffer in silence. He was doing enough trying to keep himself sympathetic and in brotherly mode. Let her help. Now that she knew, she'd be on guard.

That's what he wanted, right?

No way.

What he wanted was to have her on his lap, with those long legs wound around him and making sounds that-

Don't think about Melissa. Read this damn book. Or make plans that would get them all out of this situation.

Don't think about her.

Don't think about him.

My God, she had run away. Incredible. She had sworn she would never run away from anything again after Jessica had brought her back. But she had fled like a schoolkid.

Why? It wasn't as if she were a blushing virgin. She had tasted sex with enthusiasm. Sex was joy and pleasure, and she loved it the way she loved the euphoric burn of a good exercise workout.

It's been there from the beginning.

Since that first day she had seen him running at Juniper. She had joked with Jessica about her sexy neighbor, but she had been half serious. If she hadn't been so frightened about her dreams, she might have paid Travis a visit for another reason. She had felt the same spark but had ignored it.

As she should ignore it now.

But she couldn't because she'd sworn to herself that she'd confront any fear. And yet she had run away from Travis.

Because she thought sleeping with him would dishonor her mourning for Jessica? No, life was for living and Jessica would never want her to give up one minute of happiness to convention.

One-night stand.

That must be it. She was afraid she might want more than a one-night stand. She was drawn to Travis on too many levels. Lately she had come too close to him and had seen another side of him. He was right; sometimes she could see through him, and what she saw was not what he thought. She had seen humor, patience, and compassion behind that cool, analytical wall he erected. Something about him…touched her.

The thought sent another ripple of panic through her. She was too vulnerable right now and she certainly didn't need another obstacle to overcome. She wasn't about to try to jump over those walls he used to keep everyone at a distance.

So she would keep her own distance from now on.

Chapter Nineteen

Number 15 Rue Lestape was a small, elegant town house near St.-Germain.

"He's not there now, you know," Pichot said. "I checked it out before I called you."

"He may come back." Galen tested the front door and then strode quickly through the alley to the back of the house. "Or there may be something inside that will tell me where he is." He bent down and examined the lock on the door. Excellent craftsmanship. It took him a couple of minutes to spring it. "Open sesame."

"What if there's an alarm system?" Pichot asked. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

"Deschamps isn't going to want the police to come pounding on his door." He stepped inside. "Come on, Pichot."

"Maybe I should wait in the car."

"I don't think so." Galen smiled at him over his shoulder as he turned on his flashlight. "Not that I don't trust you, but I like the idea of having company while I'm strolling through Deschamps's lair. You're a little too wary of our absent friend."

"You don't need to worry. I'm more scared of you." Pichot's gaze was wandering around the small hall. "Nice. I wonder what that tapestry cost?"