The room came flashing back. She blinked at Galen as a breath shuddered through her. It felt like the first breath she’d ever taken, that screaming first breath of a newborn babe, howling at the loss of sanctuary, the harshness of a new reality dawning.
Slowly she turned to Jake. She had no idea what she would say. But the words came anyway. “He needs to heal. Then things will be all right.”
“You agreeing or not?” Jake demanded, examining her.
“I’m agreeing.”
“Good.” Jake rubbed his hands together and stood. “I’ve been preparing for this day for a lotta years. I’ve got a car registered under a false name and a forty-four-footer in a slip up north on the bay registered to another one. Not traceable. You can stay there. No phone calls, no letters, and for God’s sake no credit cards.”
“Won’t they look for me here?”
“You’ll be gone in ten minutes. If they come looking, everyone in the building will say the same thing I do. Ain’t seen you. Their part’ll be true.”
Ten minutes? He went to the pantry, scooped away some containers of flour and beans to reveal a safe, and twirled the knob. He pulled out a gym bag and tossed it on the table, zipped it open, and fished out a key ring. “Car’s in the basement. Blue Chevy, nothing special. Runs like a dream, though. Here’s fifty thousand in twenties and a nine-millimeter Glock with no registration number.”
“I can’t take money from you, Jake. And I wouldn’t know what to do with a gun.”
“The money’s a loan. I’ll charge you some usurious rate of return.” She didn’t believe that, and he could see it. “Look, girl. You saved my life once. You probably don’t even know that.” His smile was rueful. “No. You didn’t pull me out of a swamp, or get me out of a bamboo cage. You did it with casseroles. Even though I didn’t want to be saved. I was about ready to call it a day what with my daughter dying a day after that last surgery, knowing there would be other surgeries, that I’d never be the man I was again. You didn’t know that.”
He’d never said a word about his daughter dying only two days before Lucy had barged in with her first casserole. “That’s what friends are for,” she said softly.
“Exactly.” He cleared his throat and moved back to the table. He raised a tiny camera and held it up. “Smile.” He clicked a picture of her and one of Galen. “Two passports will be delivered to the Quik Stop up where the dirt road turns off Highway 37 day after tomorrow. That’s where the mail comes for the marina. Now give me your cell phone.”
She dug in her bag. “Jake, this is the latest iPhone,” she pleaded.
“Not anymore. You been gone four months. There’s a new version out. And from now on, cell phones are out, along with all Internet. The minute you hook into the Net to do a Google map, they’ve got you.” He took the phone, laid it on the table, and went to one of his kitchen drawers. He came back with the kind of wooden mallet you used to make paillards. Lucy sucked in a breath. She glanced to Galen. He seemed unfazed by the impending violence. He just looked gray. Jake brought the mallet down on the phone. Again and again, until little circuits shot out over the tile floor. “I’ll dispose of the pieces.”
Jake scratched on a grocery list pad with a stubby pencil, tore it off, and stuck it in the bag.” Here’s the slip number and directions. Don’t fraternize with anyone on the boats around you, or the nosey little gossip up at the Quik Stop. Only the diehards will be up there in March, and they’re a suspicious lot. The boat’s got everything you’ll need except perishable food. If push comes to shove, take it out the Gate and sail west. You’re a good sailor.”
“I only crewed for Dad.” She couldn’t just head to Hawaii in a forty-four-foot sailboat. “And I can’t do it alone.”
“Two can crew her.” Jake nodded toward Galen. “Bet he knows how to sail.”
Lucy made a face.
“Ask him.” Jake pushed past her.
“He wants to know if you can sail a boat,” she said in Latin to Galen.
Galen looked at her as though she was . . . what did he call it? Feebleminded. “I have been vikingr on the whale road. I know water and wind.”
Okay, so he sailed. That didn’t mean he’d know anything about a modern sailboat. He was in no shape to haul sails anyway. And she couldn’t let Jake give her fifty thousand dollars. She’d have no way to get it back to him if they did go “off the map.” Which they were not going to do. But Lucy had caught Jake’s urgency. She gnawed at her lips. Jake seemed so sure of himself. And he was not going to take no for an answer. Jesus! Was she really going to try to hide out just because Brad and Casey had come looking for her when she didn’t return?
And brought the FBI? And confiscated everything she owned?
Jake came back in with an armload of clothes and a gym bag. “I had some overshirts that might fit him, but no jeans even close. There’s a Target in Novato and a Macy’s.” As the last of the clothes were being stuffed into the bag, a long samurai sword was revealed. “And this . . .” He hefted the curved black scabbard inlaid with intricate gold work. He held it out to Galen. “This is for you. My pa brought it back from Okinawa.”
Galen pushed himself up. His eyes slid along the scabbard. He knew what it was. He looked up once at Jake to make sure he wanted to give such a precious gift. Jake nodded. Galen took the scabbard reverently and pulled on the gold-worked hilt with his good left hand. The blade emerged, very slightly curved and lethal. It was much lighter than his sword. But that didn’t seem to dismay him. A small smile played over his lips as his eyes caressed the blade.
“It’s a killer all right.” Jake said. “At least in some men’s hands.”
Galen nodded, that curt acknowledgment he always seemed to give, and shoved the blade back in. “Es gd . . .” And then he said in Latin, “The steel is fine.” He switched back to his own language. “Thonc to thu.”
“Just don’t let anything happen to her.” Jake jerked a thumb to Lucy.
Galen glanced to Lucy and nodded again, just once.
As if he knew what Jake was saying or as if he could protect her in his condition. “Well, if you two are done with this testosterone fest, I think we’ll get going.” She put Leonardo’s book back in her bag along with the massive diamond. “I will pay back every cent of that money.”
“I have no doubt.” Jake zipped the bag and went to the door.
Lucy stopped. “He’s going to need a doctor, you know.”
“Not unless he gets infected. Did they give you antibiotics at the hospital?”
She nodded. “Yeah, Keflex, but—”
“You can change bandages and take out the stitches yourself.”
“Jake, I don’t know who you think I am, but I am not that person.”
Jake smiled at her. “Yes, you are, Lucy Rossano. You definitely are.” He swung around.
“Wait,” Lucy said as he threw the bolt lock. “How will I know it’s safe to come back?”
“If nobody’s been around in a month, I’ll send you word. You won’t hear from me until then. If they do come around, they’ll be waiting for me to try to contact you. If you haven’t heard from me in a month, then something’s happened. If anybody shows up at the marina asking questions, the same. Just take the boat and sail west.”
She was about to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. He smiled again, but this time his eyes were sad. “No questions. No doubts. You go off the map and you don’t ever come back on it. Sail around Borneo. Visit Sri Lanka. These buggers never forget. They’ll never quit looking. And there’s nothing you can do about whatever they decide to do with the machine. You’re a bookseller and he’s a tenth-century Viking. You are no match for them. You understand?”