Countdown (11 page)

Jock frowned uncertainly. “No, did you tell me to fix it?” He headed for the stairs that led to the apartment. “I’m sorry. I’ll get to it right away.”

“No hurry.”

“But you’re hungry,” Jock said. “You told me that you were—”

“I can wait.” He moved after him. “We’ll make it together.”

“We will?” A brilliant smile lit Jock’s face. “Together? That would be nice.” His smile faded. “But you don’t have to help. Don’t you want to go back to Angus’s place? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I need a break. What’s quick?”

“Fresh salmon.” Jock frowned. “Or perhaps a steak. I’ll have to check to make sure what we have.”

“You do that.”

Distraction in place. And if MacDuff was lucky, Jane MacGuire would live through the night without any other intervention from him.

6
                                                                                          

B
artlett was standing at the casement window across the large bedroom when Mario opened the door for Jane a few minutes later. “I was just getting some air in here.” He threw back the thick red velvet drapes and opened the window. “Close them when you come back from dinner. It can get a bit drafty. I hope you don’t find it damp and cold.”

“Not too bad.” She glanced around the room. It was generally pleasant, with Persian carpets and a secretary and cushioned chair against one wall. Another one of the seemingly never-ending number of faded, threadbare tapestries occupied the wall opposite the bed. But a huge four-poster with drapes that matched the one at the window loomed with intimidating majesty across the room. “I’m supposed to sleep in that?”

“It will be fine.” Mario chuckled. “I have one in my room too, and I had the same reaction. But the mattress is very comfortable and definitely not from the fourteenth century.”

She grimaced. “If you say so. I’m a slum kid, and I’m not used to beds that are almost as big as one of the foster homes where I grew up.”

“But you have your own bathroom,” Bartlett announced proudly, nodding toward a door across the room. “MacDuff’s father converted a few bedrooms to very practical uses.”

She smiled. “You’re obsessed with the glory of modern plumbing. Not that I’m knocking it. I’m aching to wash up and get rid of some of this travel grime.”

“Then we’ll leave you.” Mario turned toward the door. “Shall I come to get you and take you down to dinner?”

“I’m sure I can find—” His expression was so disappointed that she said instead, “That would be very kind of you.”

“Good.” He gave her another brilliant smile. “But the kindness is yours.” He hurried from the room.

“I believe he’s smitten,” Bartlett said. “Not that I’m surprised.”

“He’s not the type of man I’d expect to be working for Trevor. Where did he find him?”

“Through the university in Naples. Trevor was trying to avoid the scholastic contingent, but after Dupoi double-crossed him, he decided that he’d risk it. Since Grozak was on the radar he couldn’t afford to take a chance on a freelance translator. So he interviewed several brilliant antiquity students before he hired Mario and brought him here under his eye.”

“He said he had to watch him.” She shook her head. “But I can’t imagine him being a threat.”

“No, the threat is to Mario. He’d be vulnerable out on his own. Trevor didn’t want to risk him getting his throat cut.”

“But not enough not to use him.”

“Mario knew there was a risk. Trevor was honest with him.” He headed for the door. “There are a few items of clothing in the cupboard in the bathroom. If there’s anything else I can do, call me. I left my phone number on the card on the secretary. I hope you’ll be comfortable. I did my best.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable.”

He smiled as he opened the door. “I try. Perhaps I’m a little smitten too.” He chuckled as he saw her eyes widen. “Strictly on a platonic basis. You aroused my brotherly protective instincts when I met you when you were only seventeen. I’m afraid they’re still in place. Good thing. My life is much too interesting these days to complicate it. I’ll see you at dinner.”

After the door closed behind him, she moved over to the window and looked out at the courtyard below. She could see lights across the way. The stable apartment where MacDuff stayed? He was as strange as everything else connected to this place, and she didn’t like Trevor’s silence regarding him. She felt tired and disoriented and everything seemed surreal. What the devil was she doing in this place?

What was wrong with her? She knew why she was here and what she was doing. Things had just been moving too fast for her to absorb. Donnell’s death, Trevor’s appearance, and being whisked here to this castle far away from everything familiar had unsettled her.

But she could bring the familiar to her and she would. She crossed to the phone on the bedside table. A few minutes later Eve picked up the phone. Lord, it was good to hear her voice.

“It’s Jane. I’m sorry I didn’t call you right away. We had to travel a good distance from the airport before we arrived here.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then what airport? And where the hell are you?”

How much to tell her? She’d hedged the last time she’d asked herself that question and she wouldn’t do it again. Eve and Joe meant too much to her to be dishonest with them. “Aberdeen, Scotland, and I’m at a place called MacDuff’s Run.”

“Scotland,” Eve repeated. “Joe was guessing Italy.”

“So was I. At the moment Trevor prefers to handle his affairs at a distance. It seems Italy is too hot to be comfortable for him.”

“I can believe that.” Eve paused. “Trevor may be hot in other countries besides Italy. Joe sent out inquiries to Scotland Yard and Interpol to check and see what Trevor’s been up to lately.”

“And?”

“Nothing. It came back classified information.”

She frowned. “What the devil does that mean?”

“Joe doesn’t know. Scotland Yard, maybe. But Interpol has a muzzle too? It may mean he’s messing around in something extremely ugly, or stepping on someone’s toes who has the power to black out the official information networks. Either way it makes me uneasy.”

It made Jane uneasy too. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes enough sense to send Joe digging like a ferret to get around that block. And it makes enough sense for you to get out of there and come home.”

“Not yet.”

“Jane—”

“I don’t feel threatened. Trevor has this place surrounded by security guards.”

“And who’s going to protect you from Trevor?”

“I can protect myself.” She drew a deep breath. “And I need to stay here. I’m finding out what I need to know. Tell Joe to check on a Rand Grozak. Trevor says he’s the man who ordered Leonard to grab me in that alley.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe Cira’s gold. Oh, I don’t know. That’s why I have to stay for a few days.”

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s going to be okay. I’ll call you every day.”

“You’d better.” She paused. “MacDuff’s Run?”

“It’s a castle on the coast. But don’t you dare launch an attack. As I said, I’m perfectly safe.”

“Bullshit. But we won’t make a move unless you skip checking in with us one day.”

“It won’t happen. Bye, Eve.”

“Keep safe.” Eve hung up.

Keep safe. Jane didn’t feel safe. She felt alone and disconnected from the two people she loved most in the world. Hearing Eve’s voice had warmed her, but it had also emphasized her remoteness from them.

Stop whining. She had a job to do. It wasn’t as if she was surrounded by vampires. Bartlett was here, Brenner didn’t seem intimidating, and Mario was very sweet. MacDuff was fairly forbidding, but he obviously intended to ignore her unless he decided she was going to cause trouble. If there was a vampire, it was Trevor. Yes, she could see that comparison. He’d managed to hold her imagination captive and mesmerize her for four years.

And that was too damn long.

T
revor’s back at MacDuff’s Run,” Panger said when Grozak answered the phone. “He arrived late today with Bartlett, Brenner, and a woman.”

Shit. “A young woman?”

“Early twenties. Good-looking. Reddish-brown hair. You know her?”

He cursed. “Jane MacGuire. I told that idiot Leonard that he was going to push too hard. He’s been scurrying around trying to protect his ass since he killed Fitzgerald. Damn fool panicked last night and killed Donnell too. It triggered Trevor to make a move.”

“So what do I do?”

He thought about it. “I can’t have Leonard picked up by the police, and he’s made one mistake too many. Get rid of him.”

“You want me to stop watching the castle?”

“If you’re not as much of a fool as Leonard, it won’t take you long.”

“What about Wharton?”

“It’s up to you. He’s Leonard’s partner but I doubt if he’s going to object to finding a new one. If he gets in your way, I won’t give you an argument if you dispose of him. Then you can come back and watch and wait. That’s all the hell you’re doing anyway.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. It might not be too bad. Jane MacGuire was tucked under Trevor’s wing, but at least she didn’t have Joe Quinn to protect her. Grozak had his own men stationed around MacDuff’s Run and an opportunity might present itself to get the girl.

No, what was he thinking? Fools and weaklings relied on chance. He’d think and plan and make his own opportunity. If he couldn’t make a direct assault on the woman, then he’d circle around and try to come at Trevor from another angle.

But Reilly wasn’t going to see it that way. He was only interested in getting the gold and Jane MacGuire. Crazy bastard. He sat there in his compound fat and arrogant as a Siamese cat giving orders and telling Grozak what to do.

And he had to do it, dammit.

He glanced at the calendar on his desk. December 8. Fourteen days left until the deadline Reilly had given him of December 22. Could he delay the operation if Reilly didn’t come through on time?

No, everything was in motion. Bribes in place. The explosives on their way from the Middle East. It was his big chance and he’d be damned if he’d let it slip through his fingers. Reilly had told Grozak outright that if he couldn’t produce he’d deal with Trevor and leave Grozak with nothing.

It wasn’t going to happen. Everyone had a weak spot, and Reilly’s was his love of power and his obsession with Cira’s gold. If Grozak could tap those weaknesses, then he’d be the one with power over Reilly.

But to do it he had to have Jane MacGuire.

Thank God, he had an alternate plan in mind to pull the rug out from under Trevor. But he was done with using incompetents like Leonard. He needed someone who had nerve, someone with brains enough to follow orders.

Wickman. He’d never met a colder human being, and Wickman would do anything if the price was right. Grozak would make sure it was. He had no choice with Reilly breathing down his neck.

Time was running out.

D
id you enjoy the casserole?”

Jane turned away from laughing at something Mario had said to see Trevor’s gaze on her. He had been watching her all through the meal, she thought in exasperation. Every time she’d looked up she’d encountered that critical stare. It was like being under a microscope.

“What’s not to like? It was very tasty,” she said as she leaned back in her chair. “Who cooked it?”

“I did.” Brenner grinned. “My talents as a cook have grown by leaps and bounds since I took this job. Trevor never mentioned that as part of the job description.” He glanced slyly at Trevor. “Maybe I’ve gotten too good. I’ve been tempted to serve up a little snake stew on my next cook day.”

“You’ll get no quarrel from me,” Trevor said. “As long as you eat it too. I don’t think you will. As I recall, when there were times we had nothing to eat in Colombia but what we could hunt and gather, I was able to stomach the more exotic fare better than you.” He smiled. “Do you remember when García brought in that python?”

Brenner made a face. “I could have eaten it, but when I saw what was in its stomach I decided I wasn’t that hungry.”

There was a bond of companionship between the two men that was almost visible, Jane thought. She had never seen this side of Trevor. He seemed less guarded. Younger . . .

“I don’t think that’s a discussion for the dinner table,” Mario said with a frown. “Jane will think we’re barbarians.”

“And we aren’t?” Trevor asked with lifted brows. “You and Bartlett are civilized, but Brenner and I have a tendency to slip back into the jungle occasionally.” But he nodded and said to Jane, “He’s absolutely right. My apologies if our crudeness offended you.”

“You didn’t offend me.”

Trevor turned to Mario with a smile. “You see? You didn’t need to be defensive. She’s no delicate flower.”

“But she’s a lady.” Mario was still frowning. “And she should be treated with respect.”

Trevor’s smile faded. “Are you telling me how to treat our guest, Mario?”

“I’ll get the coffee,” Brenner said as he quickly got to his feet. “No dessert, but there’s a cheese tray. Come help me bring it in, Bartlett.”

Bartlett’s glance went from Trevor to Mario. “Maybe I should stay and—” Then he shrugged, rose to his feet, and followed Brenner from the room.

“You didn’t answer me, Mario,” Trevor said.

Mario stiffened as he caught the underlying menace beneath the softness in Trevor’s voice. The color mantled his cheeks and he lifted his chin. “It wasn’t right.”

He was afraid of Trevor, Jane realized. And why not? In that moment Trevor was intimidating as hell. But, scared or not, Mario was still sticking to his guns, and Trevor was obviously in no mood to be tolerant. “I don’t want coffee.” She pushed back her chair. “You promised to show me where you work, Mario.”

Mario eagerly grasped at the rope she’d thrown him. “Of course. At once.” He jumped to his feet. “It’s time I got back to work anyway.”

“Yes, it is,” Trevor said. “So you can show Jane your workroom later. Perhaps she’ll change her mind and stay with us and have her coffee. We don’t want you distracted.” He glanced at Jane. “And she’s definitely a distraction.”

Mario gazed at her uncertainly. “But she wanted to—”

“She wouldn’t want to interfere with your work.” Trevor looked at her. “Would you, Jane?”

It was clear he didn’t want her to go with Mario and was using Mario’s nervousness as leverage to ensure she didn’t. And it was going to work, dammit. She wasn’t going to cause Mario trouble just because she was irritated with Trevor and wanted to make a gesture. She slowly sat back down. “No, maybe I will have that coffee.” She smiled warmly at Mario. “You go ahead. I’ll see you later.”

“If that’s what you want.” Regret and relief fought for dominance on Mario’s face. “It will be my pleasure to show you my work at any time. Perhaps tomorrow?”