A knock on her door. "Tavak."
She was across the room in seconds and throwing it open. "You could have called me. Where have you—"
"Do you mind if I come in?" Tavak didn't wait for an answer. He entered the room and shut the door. "I need a little help." He shrugged out of the leather jacket. "I stopped at a pharmacy and picked up a first-aid kit, but it will be quicker if someone else does the bandage."
"First-aid kit. What—" She stopped as she saw that the right side of his chambray shirt was soaked with blood. "My God."
"It looks worse than it is. Flesh wound in the side." He handed her the plastic bag. "Please."
She gazed at him, stunned. "What kind of wound?"
"Knife."
"You should go to a doctor. Report it to the police."
"No. And no. Too many complications." He sat down in the chair at the desk. "Will you do it or shall I?"
Rachel didn't move for a moment, but then she opened the bag and took out the first-aid kit. "I'll do it." She turned and went into the bathroom and got a clean cloth and water. "What kind of complications?"
"Delays. Explanations." He took off his shirt. "See? Not too bad."
A jagged, bloody, three-inch laceration. "Not too good." She washed the blood away. "This didn't have to happen. You should have come with me."
He didn't answer.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"I took care of business."
"That's all? This is business?"
"It was Medelin's business." He gazed into her eyes. "His name was David Medelin, and he was a vicious son of a bitch. And that knife wasn't meant to just wound, Rachel."
She put tape to hold the wound together. "His name was David Medelin?"
"I don't make mistakes. There won't be repercussions. It's over. Past history."
"What did you do to him?"
"What I said I'd do. I stopped running and let him catch up with me."
"That's no answer."
"It's all you'll get from me." He smiled faintly. "Admit it, that's all you really want. I'm making you a little uncomfortable. I told you that we all had our inner secrets, and you just uncovered one of mine."
She placed the large bandage over the wound. "You liked it. You wanted to go after him."
"Yes."
"And you're probably as violent as he was."
"It appears I'm more."
"And you're a damn adrenaline junkie."
"Yes, among other things." He put on his shirt. "We're all many things, aren't we, Rachel?" He stood up. "For instance, you're deeply emotional and yet tough as nails. I'd bet you were probably torn between worrying about me and wondering if I'd set you up to run out on you. Did you try to check the hard drive?"
God, he was sharp. She wouldn't deny it. In this situation, suspicion was intelligent. "Not yet. It would have been my next move if you hadn't gotten here when you did."
He smiled. "You would have found I hadn't lied to you. Not about the hard drive and not about that bastard who stuck his dagger in me. You can keep the hard drive and take a look at it, if you like."
And in some cases suspicion was not intelligent. "No, that would waste time. I want you to start working on it right away."
He nodded. "Tonight. I should be able to make some progress by the time we get on that plane in the morning."
"Are you sure that I'm not going to be arrested for fleeing the scene of a crime?"
"Crime? What crime? I told you that I don't make mistakes."
"You made one at that hotel in Cairo and nearly got us blown up."
He chuckled. "Well, I don't make them often." He took the hard drive from the desk and headed for the door. "I'm two doors down if you need me. I promise I won't run out on you."
"No? I'm not going to sleep well tonight."
"That's your problem. I'm going to have problems enough of my own with your alter ego, Jonesy, tonight. I'm going to try to siphon off some cycles to help me out."
She shook her head. "And now I know I won't sleep at all."
* * *
The next morning Rachel and Tavak boarded the Delta flight for Los Angeles, with connections to Las Vegas.
"We're not sitting together?" Tavak asked as they walked down the first-class aisle. "I was looking forward to togetherness."
"And I'm looking forward to your finishing the work on that program on the external drive that you started last night. Besides, I have work to finish myself, and I don't want to be distracted."
"I got a lot accomplished last night. Jonesy was very cooperative… and generous."
She flinched. "Then it's a good thing that I'm going to Las Vegas and replenish those cycles you took. You'll probably get even more done on this long flight." She frowned. "Why are you arguing about a seat?"
"I want to watch you work."
"What?"
"Your work is your passion. I'm curious about the intensity you bring to it. I always find that aspect of a person interesting."
"Well then, you'll have to contain your curiosity." She sat down in her seat and unzipped her computer case. "Or observe me from a distance. Your seat is on the other side and two rows back."
Tavak nodded and moved toward his seat. "I'll see you in Los Angeles." He settled, opened his computer, and set up the external hard drive also on the tray. Then he leaned back, his gaze on Rachel across the aisle.
She had already forgotten him and was absorbed in the screen in front of her. Occasionally, he'd see a flicker of expression, a flare of excitement or annoyance. He supposed he should start his own work, but it was well on the way to completion. He had a little time to watch Rachel and enjoy the play of expressions, even try to predict them, as he learned this crucial part of her.
It was an opportunity he hadn't been able to explore before. When they were together, he was too aware of other aspects that made Rachel who she was. When he'd done his research on her, he hadn't thought sheer physical attraction would get in the way. Wrong. Almost from the first he'd had a megasexual response whenever he looked at her. Now for a little while he could distance himself from her and just appreciate the qualities that had led him to her in the beginning.
Work, Rachel, let that fine brain shine. I'll study you, and by the time we reach L.A., you'll have given up one of your most important secrets to me.
FEDERAL BUILDING
HOUSTON, TEXAS
"Mr. Norton!" Detective Finley yelled across the plaza as lunchtime office workers poured from the twenty-two-story building on Smith Street.
Wayne Norton didn't break stride at the sight of Detectives Finley and Gonzalez moving toward him. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry. Call my office."
Finley reached into his breast pocket and flashed his police badge as he and Gonzalez stepped in front of Norton, blocking his path.
"We have called your office," Gonzalez said. "Several times. You're a difficult man to reach."
"I told you I was in a hurry," Norton said coldly.
Finley nodded. "Good. So are we. Let's get this over with fast. We're investigating the Rachel Kirby shooting."
"And?"
"If we can just have a moment of your time."
Norton stared at them for a moment and shrugged. "I'm always willing to cooperate, but I'm really not sure what help I can be."