"JED HARLEY?" MOLINO REPEATED. "That circus bitch was sure that Harley did the payoff to that roustabout?"
"The description Pierre Jacminot gave her fit him like a glove," Sienna said. "But that means Grady."
"And I'd bet the Blair woman."
"Why would they want inside the trailer? Grady has to know we wouldn't leave evidence."
Ordinary evidence, Molino thought bitterly. Who knew what information one of those freaks might come up with? "I don't care why they wanted inside the trailer. If they found any lead to the Ledger, I want to know about it. Did you send someone to Chantilly?"
"Five minutes after I got the call. Falbon should be there in a few hours." He paused. "What are his instructions? If he sees an opportunity, should he kill the woman?"
Molino thought about it. Two attempts at downing Megan Blair and no success. It was totally ridiculous. If Falbon could do the job, he should let him kill her.
The Ledger.
Lists of names of all those other monsters like the one who had killed his son.
"No, we can wait. Just tell him to find her and then watch every move she makes."
And let the bitch lead him to the Ledger.
"RENATA WILGER." HARLEY SHOOK his head as he glanced over the list he'd been handed at the airport. "Seven names. It's not going to be easy. What do I do? Just go up to them and ask if they'll please give me the Ledger? She'll probably know what happened to Edmund Gillem."
"Maybe not," Grady said. "Gillem wouldn't have entrusted the Ledger to anyone who was known to be close to him. Molino's probably paid a visit to everyone who might fall in that category."
"What about his ex-wife?" Megan asked. "Even though they were divorced, would Molino-"
"She drowned in a boating accident a week after Edmund died."
"Molino?" Megan whispered.
He shrugged. "She was a good sailor and the weather was fine. There were bruises on her body when it was found."
"You didn't tell me."
"What good would it have done? It was declared an unfortunate accident and you were facing enough ugliness."
"I don't want you keeping things from me."
He shrugged. "She probably didn't know anything about the Ledger. From what I found about the divorce, it was a complete break. Edmund wouldn't have confided in her."
"I still want to make up my own mind." She turned to Harley. "I'll help you go through the list."
"No, you won't," Harley said. "It's my job. I'll narrow it down and then I'll let you and Grady sift through what's left." He glanced out the window. "The Sheraton's right ahead. Nice hotel. I spent a few days there last year. Luscious feather mattresses and steaming hot chocolate in silver pots. A little Sound of Music ambiance, but that's not bad. I like schmaltz."
"What were you doing here?" Megan asked.
"Attending a pastry school. Everyone thinks that Paris has the finest schools for cuisine, but I learned how to make the most-why are you laughing?"
"Another career, Harley?"
"Not a career. I only took an internship for a month or two. There was a chef here who had the secret of how to make incredible Baumkuchen. He created twenty-eight layers of batter and each one was magnificent."
A smile was still tugging at her lips. "And you can never tell when you're going to need to know something as valuable as that."
He beamed. "It's wonderful to be understood." Grady had pulled up at the front entrance and Harley jumped out. "I'll check in for you. One glance at Megan and the desk clerk would be able to describe her. She's got that kind of face. Wait in the bar."
"Adjoining rooms," Grady told him.
"Right." He disappeared into the hotel.
"You tensed up when I said that," Grady said tightly. "A door between us isn't going to make any difference. It's a matter of choice."
"That's why I didn't say anything." But the intimacy of the thought had had an affect on her. Dammit, everything about him was having a physical affect on her. She opened the door and got out of the car. "This isn't an old fifties B movie. I'm worried about staying alive, not about preserving my honor." She smiled without mirth. "Do you know I've always thought that phrase was ridiculous when you consider keeping their women pure and intact was historically to preserve a man's honor. Actually, they thought women were livestock and had no honor."
"They'd be wrong about you. You have honor," Grady said as he got out of the car. "But it's not between your legs."
Her eyes widened. "My God, how rude." Then she chuckled. "I don't believe I've ever felt flattered by such a crude compliment. It was a compliment, wasn't it?"
He took her elbow and moved toward the entrance. "Hell, yes."
"How long do you think it will it take him to find Renata Wilger?"
"Harley is good and he has excellent contacts."
"Are you being evasive?"
"Yes. One day if he's lucky. Three if he strikes out."
"What do you mean?"
"He has to find her, establish a connection with Gillem, and convince her that we're not going to kill her. It may take time. I know you don't want to hear that."
"You're damn right I don't." She didn't want to wait around and cool her heels in a hotel room. Particularly a room with Grady near enough to be within calling distance. "What if Molino finds Renata Wilger before we do?" What a stupid question. He'd just told her that Edmund's ex-wife had been killed and she had been ignorant of anything to do with the Ledger.
"The chances are we're ahead of the game. Providing Edmund didn't give Molino anything to work on."
"He didn't." She frowned. "But you said that he'd been tracking down family members. Wouldn't Renata Wilger be a family member? Edmund wouldn't have entrusted the Ledger to someone outside the family."
He nodded. "You're right. It would have been smarter, but he wouldn't have wanted to put anyone at risk that had nothing to gain."
"Then Molino could be searching now for Renata Wilger."
"Do you realize how large and far-flung the Devanez family is? And the core descendants don't want to be found. It took twelve years for me to track down Edmund Gillem."
"And Molino was ahead of you. He could be ahead of us now." She made a motion with her hand as he started to speak. "Sorry. I know worrying isn't productive." She headed for the bar. "I just have to keep busy until Harley finds her."
"How?"
"I want to read a copy of that ancient Tribunal Inquisition report about the Devanez family that Michael Travis managed to unearth. Can you get him to fax it to me?"
He didn't speak for a moment. "Yes."
But he was reluctant to do it, she realized. His face was without expression, but that hesitancy had spoken for itself. "Is there a problem?" She paused and then stared him in the eye. "Did you lie to me?"
"No." He moved toward the bar in the lobby. "I didn't lie. But there may be a problem. You'll have to decide that for yourself when you read it. I do have to warn you the description of the torture they inflicted on Ricardo Devanez is graphic."
"After what I went through with Edmund, reading about a torture session isn't going to send me around the bend. I won't like it but it's not going to stop me from sifting through it to get the entire picture. When can I expect the fax?"
"I'll call Michael tonight. He'll send it right away." He held her chair for her and motioned for the waiter. "There's a line at the reception desk. We may be here awhile. What do you want to drink?"
"Just coffee."
"I need something a bit stronger." He ordered her coffee and bourbon for himself. "Have you heard anything more from Dr. Gardner about Phillip?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. It seems as if a long time has passed since I talked to him. But it hasn't really. I can't expect any treatment to work overnight." She smiled. "But on the positive side, Scott e-mailed me that one of my patients suffering with staph has taken a turn for the better. Maybe they don't need me as much as I thought they did."
"They need you," Grady said. "And you need them, don't you? You told me you've always wanted to be a doctor. When did you realize it?"
"When I was just a little kid in grade school. I had a friend, Antonia, who was in an automobile accident. Everyone thought she was going to die. She didn't die. They saved her." She paused. "I thought it was a miracle. I wanted to be able to be part of that miracle. It didn't take me anytime at all to find out that miracles seldom happened, but I could still help ease the pain. There's so much pain in the world, Grady."
"And so much joy," he said. "There's always a balance."
She nodded. "I know. Every time I forget that I go pick up Davy for an outing and he brings it all back. Children know all about joy."
"Davy's the little boy you were with at the zoo?"
"Yes." A smile lit her face. "Scott e-mailed me a new picture of Davy with his report. He has his first bike. It has training wheels, but you should see how proud he looks. It's wonderful."
"I can see it must be." His gaze was fastened on her face. "You're obviously crazy about the kid. I'm surprised you don't go into pediatrics."
"I have to get stronger. I have to build myself up to it." She made a face. "I get enough criticism because I don't have enough objectivity with my patients. A sick child tears me to pieces."
"Then, dammit, give yourself a break," he said roughly. "Why be so hard on yourself?"
"Because the joy is worth the pain." She sat back in her chair as the waiter put her coffee before her. "I'm no martyr. You can't imagine how I feel when everything goes right and a patient goes home well and happy."
"Yes, I can." He lifted his bourbon. "You forget that no imagination is required when it comes to knowing how you feel. Sometimes I wish to hell it did."
She was abruptly jerked back from the intimacy that had been growing between them. "That's right, I did forget." She looked quickly at the line at the reception. "Harley's at the front of the line. Maybe we'd better join him."
"In a few minutes. Drink your coffee." His lips twisted. "I promise I won't bring up any more subjects that make you feel uneasy."
SIENNA PUT THE NOTE IN front of Molino. "Falbon managed to track them to Biestrop Airport, outside Chantilly. They have no regularly scheduled flights so they must have arranged a charter."
"To where?"
"Falbon's still working on it. It may take awhile. Grady's an expert at covering his tracks."
"Don't tell me that. I need to know now." He reached in the file drawer in his desk and drew out a thick folder. "Is this the most up-to-date information we gathered about possible Devanez family members?"
Sienna nodded. "But we stopped when you decided that Gillem was the one who had the Ledger. And then when we located Megan Blair, we-"
"You shouldn't have stopped. When we located Megan Blair, I had to take care of her, but that didn't mean that I was no longer interested in that damn Ledger."
Sienna shook his head. "I had no intention of not continuing. As far as I'm concerned, the Ledger should be the prime target. But there are too many names and they're spread over a dozen countries. It will take time to-"
"Edmund Gillem visited five countries in the six months before we scooped him up. Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Germany, and Italy. He must have given the Ledger to someone in one of those countries. All we need is a clue and Megan Blair may give it to us." He started to go through the file. "If Falbon does his job."
LUSCIOUS FEATHER BEDS AND silver pots of hot chocolate.
Megan smiled as she came out of the bathroom after taking her shower. The tray with the hot chocolate was sitting on the ottoman in front of the couch and the bed had been turned down to reveal the plump feather mattress and comforter.
"Nice." Grady was leaning against the door jamb. "I ordered the chocolate and let the maid in. Harley would approve of you sampling on his recommendations." His gaze ran over her. "You look cozy."
Megan tightened the tie on the terry cloth robe. "Harley slipped up. He didn't mention the complimentary robes." She moved toward the ottoman and poured a cup of chocolate. "Would you like one?"
"No, thanks. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. I should be receiving the fax from Michael any minute and I'll bring it in to you."
"Good. I called Dr. Gardner and he said there's nothing really to report yet. Phillip is physically the same. But Gardner has a hunch that there's something going on with him."
"What?"
She frowned. "I don't think he knows. I couldn't pin him down. But he says he's developed an instinct with patients like Phillip. He thinks there's something… stirring. He says as soon as he has something concrete, he'll phone me."
"I believe in hunches." He straightened. "I've ordered you soup and a sandwich for later. That's probably all I'll get down you after you start reading the transcript."
She nodded. "This chocolate is pretty rich. I won't be hungry." She wished he would leave. She was too aware of him and was feeling very vulnerable at the moment. The soft rub of the terry against her body as she moved was sensuous and provocative. It was crazy. In this bulky robe she felt more exposed than if she were naked.
Shit, face it. Any touch, any texture would have been arousing right now. She was acting like an animal in heat. She lowered her eyes to the liquid in her cup. "I don't want to be a bother. Suppose I call room service when I'm ready?"
He smiled sardonically. "Why do I feel you're dismissing me?" He shook his head as she started to speak. "It's okay. I'll be a good boy and run along." He started to turn away and then whirled back to her. "The devil I will." He had reached her in three strides. His hands closed on her throat. "Don't freeze on me." His dark eyes were glittering recklessly in his taut face. "I'm not taking much. I just want my hands on you for a minute." His fingers were moving caressingly up and down the sides of her throat. "Then I'll let you send me on my way."
"But I don't want… your hands on me." It was a lie and he had to know it. The flesh of her throat was tingling and every brush of his fingers felt hot, probing. She moistened her lips. "At first, I thought you were going to strangle me."
"I've always thought you have the most beautiful throat on the face of the earth. Long, and soft and your skin is so thin in the hollow that I can see the pulse pounding when you get excited."
"It's a little bizarre having a fetish about necks," she said unevenly. "Are you sure you don't have any relations in Transylvania?"
"Not that I know about. I'm glad you're not struggling very hard," he said thickly. His face was flushed and she could feel the heat his body was emitting. "Thank God. I need this. It's not enough but it's something."
He was now resting his hands on her collarbone encircling her neck and his thumbs rubbing slowly in the hollow. She wanted his hands to go lower, to slip beneath the robe, and touch her.
Her body was readying, her breasts swelling. She instinctively moved closer.
"Damn." His hands tightened around her throat for an instant and then dropped away from her. He stepped back. "No. Later."
She stared at him in shock. "What?"
"You're reading that damn report tonight. You're not going to accuse me later of trying to distract you and establish a beachhead before everything is clear and out in the open."
First, bewilderment and then anger surged through her. "Then why the hell did you touch me, you bastard? Was it a game? Some kind of control move? Who asked you?" She backed away from him. "Get out of here."
"Control move? If I was in control, I'd have had you in bed five minutes ago. That's probably what I should have done," he said through his teeth. "And you would have loved it. You're probably the most sensual woman I've ever met. I should know. I've been linked to you all your adult years. You couldn't help but enjoy it. I just didn't want you looking back later and thinking I'd-Oh, screw it."
The door slammed behind him.
She was shaking, Megan realized. She was hot, yet shivering as if she had a fever.
It had to be with anger.
No, she wouldn't lie to herself. She was aching with frustration. Her body was primed, ready… empty.
Damn him.
She curled up in the easy chair and tucked her legs beneath her. Don't shake. Don't think how much she wanted it, how much she wanted him. It would go away soon.
And would she ever be able to look at him without remembering his hands on her? She hadn't even gone to bed with him. He'd only petted her, stroked her.
Yet her heart was pounding so hard she was having trouble breathing.
Damn him.
A SOFT KNOCK SOUNDED ON the adjoining door an hour later.
She didn't answer.
"Megan. Open the door. I come bearing gifts."
Harley's voice.
She got up and opened the door.
He smiled and handed her a folder with a sheaf of papers. "The faxes of the Tribunal Reports you asked Grady for. He asked me to pass them on to you. He said there are a couple more pages, but he'll give them to you after you've read the report."
"Thank you. I didn't expect to see you tonight. You said you'd be too busy."
"I tracked down the first two Renata Wilgers and came up with zilch. However, I have a promising lead that I'm going to follow up on tonight."
"Tonight?"
"This Renata Wilger works for an international brokerage company and from what I've discovered, she's amazing at predicting stock and real estate trends. Wouldn't you say that could reflect one of those so-called talents?"
"Possibly. But would this company be open at night?"
"Her apartment manager said that she's a workaholic and seldom got in before midnight. So I'll be off in an hour or two to contact her. But first Grady asked me to come and have dinner with him and play errand boy." His brows lifted. "I take it you're not joining us for dinner?"
She shook her head. "I need to read these Tribunal Reports."
"From what Grady said, some of the content will give you nightmares. Ring my cell phone if you need a sandwich later. Grady doesn't want you calling room service." He gave her a mock salute and closed the door behind him.
Megan looked down at the folder. She didn't care if the reports were going to be gory and upsetting. At least, it would give her something worthwhile on which to focus. She needed that distraction right now. She sat down, opened the folder, and took out the first fax page.
I write this on the twelfth day of June in the year of our Lord Fourteen hundred and eighty-five by command of Tomás de Torquemada, Inquisidor General, regarding the just and holy investigation of the heretic Devanez family.
"AT LEAST, SHE DIDN'T THROW THE folder back in my face," Harley said as he strolled across the room to where Grady was standing at the minibar. "But she did appear a little tense. What on earth did you do to her?"
"Not nearly enough." He poured himself a drink. "And it's none of your business."
"Of course it is. When I have to delay my own business and rush in and run interference. Am I supposed to stick around to hand her those last pages you told her you'd give her later?"
"No, she'll want to talk to me about them."
"That's a relief." He picked up the phone. "What do you want to order for dinner?"
"Anything." He carried his bourbon to the window and looked down at the street below. There hadn't been any doubt in his mind that she'd take the report. He just hadn't wanted to add fuel to the tinderbox he'd already set in place. He'd been supremely clumsy. Why couldn't he have just either not made any move, or gone for broke and gotten her into bed?
Because he'd waited too long to touch her. Because when she finished reading that report she was going to be questioning everything he'd ever said or done to her. "Just make sure you order plenty of coffee. It's going to be a long night."