I KNEW THAT JOCK WOULD BE SKEPTICAL, Jane thought as she got to her feet after the door had closed behind him. She didn’t know anyone who wouldn’t have thought she was either crazy or enormously gullible. At least he had been kind and not openly scornful. But the skepticism had definitely been there.
Oh, well, it didn’t matter as long as she had done what she thought was best.
And what was best right now was for her to get in the shower and crawl beneath that too-pretty quilt and go to sleep. The adrenaline that had been driving her was rapidly seeping away, and exhaustion was taking its place.
No wonder. She hadn’t really slept more than a few hours for two days.
She locked the door and headed for the bathroom.
“I’M AFRAID, Mother.”
“Shh, you mustn’t be frightened, Kalim.” His mother was hurrying him down the long dark corridor. “You’re on your way to paradise.”
“Will you be with me?”
“Not for a while. You’re the only one who they think worthy.”
“I don’t want to go alone.” The tears were pouring down his cheeks as he stumbled after her, blurring the sight of the glyphs on the walls. “Don’t make me, Mother.”
“I do not make you. The angels summon you. Now stop weeping. You’ve reached your eleventh year. You will shame me. We are almost there.”
He couldn’t stop the tears.
They had rounded the corner.
The stone altar was just ahead of him. He knew that altar. His cousin, Ali, had been chosen last year. Ali had not been afraid. He had been proud.
Kalim wanted to be proud. He wanted the fear to go away.
His mother had stopped and stepped aside. “Go,” she whispered. “Go to paradise, Kalim.”
He stumbled forward. He was vaguely aware of the two priests who were coming toward him.
Let me not scream. Let me not bring shame to my family.
But the tears would not stop.
As he was lifted on the altar, he saw the mosaic visage on the wall facing him.
Burning dark eyes, a dark beard, and an expression of agonized torment.
Help me, forgive me. His gaze clung to the mosaic face on the wall. Let me die well.
But then he could no longer see the face on the wall as the priest stepped toward him with the knife raised.
He screamed!
JANE JERKED UPRIGHT IN BED, tears running down her cheeks.
She was panting as she swung her legs to the floor.
Just a dream. No, a nightmare.
She moved toward the bathroom and threw water on her face.
She was shaking. The dream had been too real, like the ones she’d had years ago. Like the ones she’d had while she was painting Guilt. But those dreams had not been about sacrifice and the killing of small children. There had been danger and pursuit and overpowering sadness but not this horror.
Dammit, how long was she to be plagued with these periods when her dreams seemed more real than life itself?
Get over it.
It was natural that she’d been followed into sleep by nightmares. The last days had been horrible enough to spawn a thousand nightmares.
And there was no question that the mosaic face on the wall had been the face in her painting Guilt.
She had been obsessing about the painting, and it shouldn’t surprise her that it had popped up in a dream.
But not in that way, not seen through the eyes of an innocent child about to be killed.
But Celine and her sister had been innocent also. There had been no reason to take their lives. Jane could have made some kind of weird connection…
Don’t think about it. She could analyze her reasons all night and not come up with anything that would mean a damn. Go back to bed and try to get back to sleep.
Not yet. She’d sit down in that chair and try to pull herself together. There would be no going to sleep while that dream was so vivid in her mind. That poor little boy, Kalim, had been so afraid. He was still with her. She could feel his fear as if it were her own.
The last thing she wanted was to go back into that dream, to that altar, and look up and see Guilt.
“SHE’S GONE.” MILLET’S VOICE WAS shaking with rage when Alan Roland picked up the phone. “Gavin dropped MacDuff off at the airport and drove off with her. The bastard slipped away from us.”
Shit.
“You’re telling me that you’ve lost her?” Roland asked. “How? You’ve been telling me how closely you’ve been having her shadowed.”
“I did. Monson’s usually a good man. But he said that Gavin was like one of those stunt movie drivers.”
“You don’t usually accept excuses.”
“I won’t this time either. Monson will be punished,” he said. “But this is your fault. She would have been dead if you hadn’t demanded we wait.”
“You agreed that it would be more fitting for her to die on April 1. Her transgression has to be treated with due ceremony. Besides, you’re not a man anyone can persuade into doing something against his wishes.” He added a little flattery to pacify him. “You’re too strong. Everyone knows that, Millet.”
“No one can beat me when I rely on myself. It’s only when I depend on fools and weaklings that I have problems.”
The fools and weaklings were aimed at him as well as Millet’s inefficient underlings, Roland knew. He felt a surge of anger that he quickly subdued. Millet was only a tool even though he didn’t realize it. There would be enough time to rid himself of the bastard when he got what he wanted. He ignored the personal inference. “But you’ll punish Monson and can start out with a clean slate again.”
“When I find the woman. You have to help me. You’re the big man. You have contacts everywhere. I found out that Weismann double-crossed me and is working for the CIA. I’ve put out a kill order on the son of a bitch. He was the one who brought Gavin to us, and that means Gavin is CIA. You’ve got money to burn. Spend some of it bribing someone in the CIA to tell you where I can get Jock Gavin. If we find Gavin, we’ll find Jane MacGuire.”
“Good thinking. I’ll start trying to tap my sources and get back to you. Don’t worry, Millet. It shouldn’t take too long to get a line on her.”
Millet was silent a moment. “You’re treating me as if I were a child. All that soothing bullshit. You’re nothing without me, Roland. I’m the only one who can give you what you want. All that influence and money, and in the end you’re just another power-hungry son of a bitch without the right weapon to make it happen. I’m the weapon. Me. My men. The Sang Noir. Remember that.”
Roland hadn’t expected Millet to be that perceptive. He had known that Millet had the cunning of a wild animal but had thought that he would be easier to manipulate.
But that was before Jock Gavin and MacDuff had appeared on the scene to complicate matters. Jane MacGuire’s support group was becoming increasingly annoying. It was difficult enough keeping a schizo like Millet reined in and under control. But he could do it. The only goal Millet had in life was to keep the position he held as Guardian, with all its power and perks. If Roland could deal with top CEOs and presidents, he could handle this fanatic little bastard. He said harshly, “Listen to me, Millet. You know what would happen if anyone but me knew how careless you were with Hadar’s Tablet. They’d tear you apart. What good is a Guardian if he can’t hold on to our most precious relic? I’m giving you a chance to save your ass and cement your position. The trade is still as good as when we made it. I give you an offering that will send your stock soaring with the members. You get that tablet back and let me keep it a few days to get it translated.”
“But you want your time with Jane MacGuire, too. She’s mine. You promised me. I don’t know if I want to let you have her first.”
Roland tried to retain his patience. “She must know something. She painted Guilt. It’s not as if it’s going to take that long to get the information. I’ll try drugs first. Later, I may ask you to use your expertise on her if I don’t get what I want.” He knew that prospect was pleasing the bastard. “I’m sure you’d succeed if I didn’t. You’d get everything you want. What I’m asking in return is nothing in comparison.”
“I don’t think anyone would say that billions of dollars is nothing.”
“A chance for billions. But you have to give me that chance. I need my time with Jane MacGuire. You can have her later. I’ve circulated that photo of Guilt among the members, and they’re salivating. They’ll forgive you anything if you can produce her at the Offering.” He paused. “I might even be persuaded to give you a share if you find her quickly enough.”
Millet was silent. “I don’t even know if you can find the damn place. I can’t be sure. You may be all talk.”
“You know that rumors have been circulating since the time of Hadar. It’s there. It happened. Jane MacGuire knows it did. Give me my time with her, and I’ll find it.” Time to use the whip. “Now are you going to cooperate, or should I be prepared to ask to see the sacred tablet on the night of the Offering?”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Will you cooperate?”
Millet didn’t speak for another moment, and Roland could almost feel his scalding anger. “Someday I’m going to cut your throat, Roland.”
“No chance. I always watch my back. Yes or no?”
“I’ll go along with you as long as it suits me,” he finally said grudgingly.
“It will suit you.” Time to shift away from intimidation. “Our partnership is very important to me, Millet. After all, you’re the Guardian of the Offering. I have the utmost respect for you.” Now throw the bastard a bone that would please his bloodthirsty soul. “I can understand how your Sang Noir feels cheated that they can’t have Jane MacGuire yet. But they may feel better if they take an important substitute. I’ve learned that Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn have left Georgia and have taken a flight to Edinburgh, Scotland. That probably means that they’ll be going to MacDuff’s Run. I’m sure the MacGuire woman would be heartbroken if anything happened to them.” He chuckled as a thought occurred to him. “And Eve Duncan works on skulls; I don’t doubt that you could concoct something appropriately shocking that has to do with her career. How long does it take to boil the flesh off a skull? Or, if you choose, you might even be able to use them as hostages.”
Millet was silent, thinking. “They were on our list to be next anyway. Yvette Denarve was only convenient.”
“Then you can occupy yourself with them while I try to find out where Jock Gavin took Jane MacGuire.”
“Yes.” His voice became harsh. “But that doesn’t let you off the hook. You’re trying to distract me. I want to know where MacGuire is, then I’ll decide whether I’m going to wait any longer.”
“You’ll wait. Think how they’ll scream and praise you. She’s going to be an offering beyond belief.” Roland’s hand tightened on the phone. “You wouldn’t be forgiven if you waste her death, Millet. You’ll know where she is as soon as I do.”
“See that I do.” Millet hung up.
Dammit, the situation was escalating, Roland thought as he hung up. Jane MacGuire’s escape tonight had caused Millet to come dangerously close to throwing out the entire case Roland had built for waiting for the execution until April 1.
Screw him. He had to have his time with the MacGuire woman. Nothing was going to stand in his way.
“He’s becoming difficult.” Sheila Carmody smiled. “He’d be even more difficult if he knew how you’ve been screwing him. I’ve never seen anyone so clever at a double cross.”
He turned to look at her. Sheila was blond, naked, and with all the appropriate talents. None of them had anything to do with conversation. Usually she was more discreet in her comments. Not that he had any worry about her talking to anyone else. She was a member and knew what the punishment would be if she broke his confidence. That was why he made sure most of his bed partners were of the chosen. “I haven’t been screwing him.” Roland moved over her on the bed. “Yet. I’ve just been finessing the bastard. I’ve only been screwing you. Now close your mouth and open your legs. I’m about to do it again.”
Moments later, he was listening to her cries as he plunged deep and hard. This was power. Take and twist and make her come. Much better than Millet’s idea of sexual pleasure. You didn’t have to rip and tear to make a woman know she was helpless, and that you were the master.
But if Sheila showed other signs of curiosity, he might have to turn her over to Millet for schooling. He’d recently been stung by that bitch, Adah, who hadn’t known her place. He wasn’t about to have it happen again. But not now. Sheila was entertaining enough, and he was preoccupied with the problem of Jane MacGuire.
And he’d have to find Jane MacGuire if he was going to have a trade for the tablet. He had to hedge all his bets. Either MacGuire or the tablet had the potential to give him what he wanted.
He had to have both. He had to have it all.
He would find MacGuire first, get what he needed from her, then give her to Millet to play with before his frustration built too high. He’d researched her thoroughly and had an idea which way she’d jump.
A few more minutes with Shelia, and he’d get off her and reach for his phone…
Rome
Day Three
11:32 A.M.
MARIO SEVELLI WAS A GOOD enough prospect, Seth Caleb thought as he studied the squat dark man sitting at the outdoor café on the Via Rimaldi. He had not paid much attention to Sevelli when he’d been targeting another member of the Sang Noir several years ago. It had not been necessary to involve anyone else in the search. He had known who he needed to find and kill.
But he probably wouldn’t have to kill Sevelli. It should be a simple Q and A that might lead somewhere promising. After researching Ted Weismann, he doubted if he would have confided in anyone in the group. But he might have dropped a word, a hint, that Sevelli might or might not remember. If he came up zero, then he’d just move on to someone else. There were at least three other members of the Sang Noir who could be possibilities.
But Sevelli was alone at the table and Caleb wouldn’t have any interruptions.
He moved across the street and through the crowded, noisy restaurant to Sevelli’s table.
“A beautiful day, isn’t it? May I sit down?” He smiled at Sevelli. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Sevelli stiffened as he glanced up at him.
Caleb kept his smile in place and made his tone ingratiating. “I’d consider it a great favor.”
The tension left Sevelli and he looked Caleb up and down. “I’m not having any. Buzz off, fag.”
“I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding me.” Caleb pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. He gestured for the waiter, then gazed earnestly into Sevelli’s eyes. “But I’ll take care of that. We’re going to be the best of friends.”
Paris
Bleinart Inn
“JOE SAID YOU’D BE HERE at MacDuff’s Run,” Eve said when Jane answered her call. “Where the hell are you?”
“I’m still in France.” She had been bracing herself for this call. “Did MacDuff explain?”
“He explained as much as he could explain. He told me about Yvette Denarve and that you’d ditched him at the airport.” She paused. “He said that you were looking for this Ted Weismann and were trying to locate someone who could find him.”
“Weismann has all the answers. I have to find him, Eve.”
“I can see that you would. MacDuff said that you didn’t tell him who you were going to get to help you.”
“He wouldn’t approve my choice.” She added, “And I don’t have to tell you who it is, Eve.”
“Seth Caleb. He was the first one I thought about when MacDuff was telling us that Weismann would be difficult to hunt down.”
“Not for Caleb.”
“You’ve contacted him?”
“Yes. He said he’d help me.”
“Out of the goodness of his heart?”
“I don’t know how much goodness there is in his heart. I just know that he agreed, and I’m going to accept it.”
“You must feel desperate. If I remember, I was more inclined to be lenient with Caleb than you were.”
“You didn’t see Celine. You didn’t see Yvette. Yes, I was feeling desperate. I can’t have anyone else killed because I’m stumbling around in the dark. I have to know what’s going on.” She drew a deep breath. “I didn’t trick you into coming to the Run because I was afraid for you. I am afraid for you and Joe. I’m terrified. But I intended to join you there.”
“But then you thought about Seth Caleb and knew that he was your best shot.” She paused. “I know you’d never try to deceive me, Jane.”
“I just had to be sure. I’ll come to the Run as soon as I find Weismann. Will you stay there with MacDuff? It will make me feel better. If you were with me here, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything but keeping you safe.”
Eve didn’t speak for an instant. “I’ll stay here until I think that I can help you more by going after you. Where are you? Or is that a secret from me as well as MacDuff?” Then she added quickly, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t know how secure MacDuff’s communication setup is here.”
“I imagine Jock will tell MacDuff anyway. But I don’t know how long I’ll be here. As soon as Caleb finds Weismann, I’ll have to go.”
“Let me know when you do.”
“I will.” She changed the subject. “Are you working?”
“Of course. When don’t I? It keeps me functioning. I brought the skull of a little boy with me. I call him Ronald. MacDuff is going to set me up a grand workroom next to my bedroom in one of the towers. I’m sure it will feel very plush after my humble work area at the cottage.”
“There’s nothing humble about anything you do,” Jane said. Eve was reputed to be the world’s greatest forensic sculptor. She tried to stay out of the public eye except when it was to help public awareness of the need to find and identify missing children. Since years ago she had lost her little daughter, Bonnie, to a serial killer, it had been her passion. No, that wasn’t quite true. She was dedicated to helping those children and their grieving parents. But her passion was the desire to find her Bonnie’s killer and bring the body of her daughter home. Everything else paled in comparison. “But I’m glad MacDuff is taking care of you there at the Run. How’s Joe?”
“Restless. He’s going to join Venable in Rome tomorrow. He said he told you he would.”
“Yes, but I thought I was going to be there to take-”
“Care of me?” Eve finished for her. “Then you can’t blame me for feeling the same about you. Come as soon as you can.” She paused. “You know, I like this place. It’s very grand, but there’s a kind of ageless comfort about it. Ever since I stepped inside the gates I’ve been feeling a sense of… rightness. As if there was a reason why I should be here. Crazy, huh?”
“No, you should be there so MacDuff can keep you safe.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just feel… it’s as if there’s something here or something coming. Something… unfolding, and I have a part in it. Did you know there’s a painting of one of MacDuff’s ancestors who looks like you?”
Jane sighed. “Fiona. MacDuff would have to show it to you.”
“He didn’t. I noticed it myself. Too bad there’s not a portrait of his many-times great-great-grandmother Cira. She might look even more like you.”
“Don’t mention that to MacDuff. He’s insistent enough now that I’m part of his blasted family. I can’t convince him I’m done with Cira and her treasure chest and everything else connected to MacDuff’s Run.”
“Evidently not. Considering that I’m here right now. Well, it will be nice to look at the portrait since I can’t have you here.”
“Then for the first time I’m glad I look like Fiona,” Jane said. “But don’t let MacDuff try to persuade you that it’s anything but a coincidence.”
“MacDuff is too busy making phone calls and talking to all these guards he has tripping over each other around the estate to try to convince me of anything.” She chuckled. “And he probably realizes I wouldn’t give a damn anyway. It doesn’t matter who you are to him; it’s who you are to me that’s important.”
“Thank God.”
“Yes, I do thank him very frequently for bringing you into our lives. Call me as often as you can. Bye, Jane.”
“She wasn’t angry?” Jock asked, as Jane hung up.
“No, I didn’t really think she would be, but I had to explain. I never take our relationship for granted. It means too much to me.” She stood up. “Let’s go for a walk. I need to expend some energy. Eve said Joe was restless, and I feel a definite empathy.”
“I can see that you do.” Jock got to his feet. “You’ve been prowling this room like a tiger cub all morning. Your Caleb had better work fast, or you’ll be a nervous wreck.”
“No, I won’t. We’ll walk, we’ll have dinner somewhere, then I’ll come back and sketch you. Working always relaxes me, and I haven’t sketched you for years.”
“Since the first time you came to MacDuff’s Run,” he said quietly. “You gave me one of those sketches, and I sent it to my mother. She could never understand the monster I’d become. I told MacDuff that he had to tell her what I’d done. She couldn’t be allowed to think that there was no reason I couldn’t come back to her. But how could she comprehend a son who killed? She had done her best, raised me to believe in hard work, God, and the Ten Commandments. All the things to which a good Scottish lad should adhere. After MacDuff brought me home from the hospital, he kept telling me that she’d understand. That she’d only think of that time as a terrible sickness.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t go back to her. It would only have hurt her. But I think she liked the sketch.”
“I’m sure she did,” Jane said gently. “And I’m sure she still loved you.”
“Maybe. Mothers are pretty helpless about things like that.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ll be glad to have you sketch me again, Jane. It will be interesting to see the difference the years have made, won’t it?”
EVE SLOWLY PUT HER PHONE in her pocket after she had hung up. She had been alarmed when she had first learned what Jane was doing, and she was still just as frightened. Caleb might be able to find this Weismann, but he was probably a more ruthless and dangerous man than the man he was hunting.
Blood.
She shuddered as she remembered what she had seen him do to that serial killer, Jelak, only a few weeks ago. Yes, Caleb had saved Joe’s life and perhaps her own, but it had still been shocking. The blood running from the killer’s eyes, the screams as his brain hemorrhaged. It had been hard to accept that anyone could have the power to do that. She would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself.
But she had seen it, and the memory wouldn’t leave her. Had she somehow known that Caleb would be back in their lives?
But not like this. Not this horror involving Jane. She had wanted to keep Caleb away from Jane. She had sensed something between them, a sort of bonding, that had made her uneasy. Dammit, she didn’t want Jane drawn into the darkness surrounding Caleb. Yet Jane was walking toward him like a moth to a flame.
No, she was insulting Jane. Jane was doing what she thought was right, and she was no helpless moth. Even Eve could see that Caleb could be the answer to finding Weismann. It was Eve who was feeling helpless and wanting to step in and whisk her away. It had taken all her will not to leave this haven Jane had set up for them and go after her.
Not now. Not yet. Jane didn’t need her attention diverted because she was worrying about Joe and her.
So she’d do what she could from MacDuff’s castle until it was time to make a move. There were a few things here that were making her uneasy, and she had to get clear.
She left her room and strode down the hallway toward the grand staircase.
MacDuff was coming through the massive fourteen-foot front doors.
She paused on the top step and looked down at him. The hall was all stone and rich tapestries, and simple chests. It had none of the dated furniture pieces she’d seen in other old manors. It looked as if it was a place one of MacDuff’s wild, robber-baron forbears could have walked into at any moment. And though John MacDuff was dressed in dark trousers and rolled-neck sweater, he fit effortlessly into that ancient setting. Yes, she thought, he belongs to this place in spirit as well as birth.
He looked up as Eve came down the grand staircase. “You’ve talked to Jane? Did you convince her to come here?”
“I didn’t try,” Eve said. “There would have been no use. She’s doing what she thinks is right. I’m the one who will have to go to her if I think it’s necessary.”
“It’s not necessary,” he said curtly. “If she needs someone, I’ll be there for her. I promised to keep you safe.”
“Why?” She gazed at him searchingly. “You’re turning your life here upside down. All for Jane.” She smiled faintly, “And I don’t think it’s entirely because you have this idea that she’s family.”
“She helped Jock when he needed her.”
“And that’s admirable, too. But you’ve been trying to coax her back here for at least two years. I’ve been standing in the background looking on, but I’ve wondered…”
His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re a brilliant woman, Eve Duncan. I’d wager that you’ve done more than wonder.”
“Well, I’ve made a few guesses.” She paused. “You’re a driven man, MacDuff. You love this property. It represents your roots, your family. Jane told me that you’ve almost lost this estate several times to taxes and exorbitantly expensive upkeep but managed to save it at the last minute.”
He smiled. “Are you thinking I want to make a rich marriage to save it? I’m afraid Jane doesn’t qualify. She’s only a struggling artist.”
“No, marrying for money wouldn’t suit you at all. You’re too much like your ancestors who preferred to rob and pillage. I’m talking about the chest of gold coins hidden by the first MacDuffs that you’ve been searching for all these years. At one time you thought Jane could lead you to it.”
“She assures me she cannot.”
“But do you believe her?”
“I believe she thinks she cannot.”
“That’s no answer.”
“You want an answer?” MacDuff smile was suddenly reckless. “I think there’s a chance that someday she’ll be able to tell me where to find it. Look, Jane didn’t just happen into my life. She came here because of all those dreams she was having about my ancestress, Cira. Yes, she was a student and fascinated by stories of Cira and her escape from Herculaneum during the Vesuvius eruption. But that wasn’t what drew her here. It was the dreams. And in those dreams there was a chest of antique gold coins. It figured prominently in them.”
“But her dreams didn’t tell her where the chest was hidden.”
“Because Jane didn’t care about the gold. I care about the gold. I won’t let my family home go to strangers.” The passion vibrated in his voice.
“But dreams, MacDuff?” Her brows lifted mockingly. “I wouldn’t judge you to be one to pay attention to such nonsense.”
“Is it nonsense? I don’t believe you think that’s true. No one knows Jane the way you do, Eve.”
She was silent. “I know that sometimes she’s had dreams that were… strange. Most of them had to do with the past and people she had never met. But she hasn’t had any dreams like that for a long time that I know about.” She smiled faintly. “And my hardheaded Jane would deny with her last breath that they were any different from the run-of-the-mill dreams you or I have.”
“Then I’ll deny it for her. You’re right; I’m not a man who believes in foolish flights of imagination. But this is different. Those dreams started a chain reaction that not only enabled us to kill that bastard Thomas Reilly but brought Jock home to heal and become whole again. That’s good enough for me. There has to be a reason that happened. I know that Jane was sent to help me keep MacDuff’s Run from going out of the family. Someday she’ll understand that, too.”
“And in the meantime it suits you to keep her alive,” Eve said dryly.
“No, I’ll keep her alive because she’s deserving and a part of my family. I have feeling for her,” MacDuff said curtly. “The gold is a separate matter.” He stared her in the eye. “And I wouldn’t have been honest with you if I hadn’t intended you to share what I said with Jane. I know how close you are. Tell her what you wish. It’s not going to make a difference. I think in her heart she realizes that she’ll have to come back and finish our story. Soon. I have a feeling that it’s coming around full circle.” He was silent, then asked, “Do you wish to know anything else?”
She studied him for a moment. He was full of arrogance and contradictions, but he was being honest with her. He was no threat to Jane even though he might want to lure her here for his own purposes. She had wanted to make sure of this piece of the puzzle. She was already feeling very powerless stuffed away in this castle. “You really believe Jane is your distant cousin?”
“You saw the portrait of Fiona.” He smiled. “But I think she resembles the woman she was having dreams about much more.”
Eve smiled as she remembered that she’d speculated on that very possibility with Jane earlier. “Cira, who founded your clan?”
He nodded. “Anything else?”
“Yes, one more question.”
“What?”
She made a face. “Will you take me to that tower you’ve given me as my studio? You said it was close to my room? I need to get to work. It’s the only way I can keep myself from jumping on a plane and going to Jane.”