“You'll adjust.”
“Promises. I'll see you at nine at the hotel if you don't get your ass caught flitting around there.” Bartlett hung up.
Trevor pressed the disconnect and looked out over the lake. Jane was in that cottage. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon and she should have been in school, they were keeping her home, keeping her safe.
Or so they thought. There was no safety where Aldo was concerned. He was totally relentless and his patience was inexhaustible.
So that's how patient Trevor must be. Jesus, it was hard. He'd never been this close before. Well, he had to be patient. Jane MacGuire was a bright beacon that Aldo wouldn't be able to resist and he only had to watch until the bastard ventured too close to the flame.
Aldo would want to kill Jane with all due ceremony. No long-range rifle shot for him. And if he was right, the chances were good that Trevor would have time to get him before he could murder the girl.
“The odds aren't nearly as good.”
Well, Bartlett was wrong. The odds were always as good as the effort you made to make them come up a winner. He just had to divorce himself from all emotion and use intellect and logic. He had to forget that moment when he'd looked at Jane and seen the spirit and the vitality that shone from her face. She mustn't matter to him as a person, only as a means to an end. He'd made one mistake. He couldn't afford another one.
Or Jane MacGuire would be dead within the next few days.
It's definitely volcanic ash forensics found with Caroline Halliburton's body,” Christy said when Joe picked up the phone. “We're trying to determine from which volcano. No luck yet.”
“Scotland Yard can't help?”
“No conclusions about the ashes found with the other victims.”
“That's what Trevor said. How the hell did he know if he's not connected with the Yard?”
“There's the obvious answer.”
“Yeah.” And he should accept the probability. To hell with instinct. His training should dictate what he thought in this case. “Any report on Trevor?”
“Not yet. No info on a Mark Trevor in their data banks and it takes a long time to get a photo match from a sketch. No report on the fingerprints either. They sent them out to Interpol. I'll let you know when I hear something.”
“You'd better.”
“How's Jane?”
“Restless, impatient. A hell of a lot better than Eve and me. She doesn't like being cooped up.”
“That sounds like Jane.” Christy chuckled. “But she's not dumb, Joe. She's not going to do anything foolish.”
“What she considers foolish may not be what I consider foolish. She won't stay in the cottage. She says that having a police escort constantly on her heels is enough of a hassle without being made a total prisoner.”
“A visible police guard is usually an effective deterrent, Joe.”
“Usually.” He went to the window and watched Jane as she strolled down the lake path. Mac and Brian were several yards behind her but in clear sight and Toby was gamboling beside her. “I don't like to count on it. Get back to me the minute you hear anything.”
“Any news?” Eve asked as he hung up the phone.
“Volcanic ash. No location determined.” He turned to face her. “Nothing on Trevor.”
“Dammit.” She joined him at the window. “What's the use of all this technology if they can't pull up information when you need it?”
“Trevor impressed me as being very smart. He may not have any criminal record.”
“Yes, he's smart. But he tipped his hand with us. And if he made one mistake, then he could have made others.” She frowned. “And no one is an island in this day and age. What about the fingerprints? Even if he doesn't have a criminal record, he must have gone to school, gotten a driver's license. Something . . .”
“We're checking.” He slipped his arm around her waist, his gaze on Jane, who had just sat down on a log beside the lake. “It's only a matter of time.”
He should be in hiding, Aldo thought. It was daylight and there might be more policemen than the two following the girl combing the woods. Screw it. He'd go to ground soon but he'd take this moment. It was the first time he'd been able to see her clearly.
He gazed hungrily at the girl sitting on the log across the lake. She appeared totally unafraid and was truly exquisite. So confident in her youth and power. The young always thought they were immortal, but she should know better. Had she no memory?
She must remember. She was just displaying her usual arrogance. She wouldn't admit to fear because she'd look upon it as a defeat.
But she'd admit it soon. She'd look into his eyes and he'd see the terror.
It was only a matter of time.
Was he out there?
Jane stared at the woods across the lake. She couldn't see anything, but she felt . . . something. It was weird to think of a man stalking you, wanting to kill you for no reason other than that he didn't like your face. It was crazy and she should be more afraid.
She felt more than just fear. She was filled with curiosity and excitement and anger. The idea of prey and hunter intrigued her. What would he do if she became the stalker? If she tried to turn the tables on that creep?
Not that she'd do anything like that, she thought regretfully. Eve and Joe would have a cow and there was no way she'd worry them. Eve was already too concerned about her after their talk last night. She'd understood Jane more than anyone else would have but in spite of her saying she had no right to judge, it had still troubled her. No, she wouldn't willingly cause Eve any more worry.
But the key word was willingly. It wouldn't be her fault if she was drawn into the whirlpool Aldo was stirring. And she couldn't be expected not to fight back, could she?
Jane picked up a rock and sent it skimming over the surface of the lake.
Did you see that? Are you watching, Aldo?
Yes, he was watching. She could feel it. He was close and getting closer. She would be forced to confront him soon.
It was only a matter of time.
We've got a report on Mark Trevor,” Christy said when she called that night. “Interpol came through.”
Joe signaled Eve to pick up the extension. “Criminal record?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean ‘not exactly'? He has a record or he doesn't.”
“He was on their watch list because of casino activity in Monte Carlo. Among other talents, he's a superb card counter. He took several casinos on the Riviera to the cleaners before they caught on to what he was doing and banned him. Since card counting is a talent and not a criminal activity they couldn't charge him, but the local police wanted to keep their eye on him. There was every chance one of the casinos would take a contract out on him.”
“No other charges?”
“Not so far as we can find out. But he must have forged identity documents as he moved from country to country. The name he used in Monte Carlo was Hugh Trent.”
“A British citizen?”
“No, the Brits can't believe they wouldn't have been able to find some record in their computers. They're very frustrated because they regard it as an insult to their professionalism.”
“He sounded British.”
“The casino in Monte Carlo thought he was French. The one in Germany was sure he was German. He evidently speaks several languages fluently. Every report indicates that he appeared to be well educated, brilliant, and slick as glass.”
“And he doesn't have any history of violence?”