"Don't be a pessimist." Galen smiled. " If Travis didn't have my invaluable services, you might have to worry, but I've the reputation of a miracle worker."
"God knows we need a miracle," Jessica murmured as he left.
"No, we need to make a deal with Andreas and put an end to this craziness/' Melissa said. "He could force Travis to help Cassie."
Jessica shook her head. "I told you what happened when I called his bluff. I won't risk you or Cassie again."
"The bastard." She was silent a moment. "You don't have to worry about me. I think I'm getting ahold of this thing."
"There's still Cassie."
Her lips tightened. "And you won't risk her."
"You wouldn't either."
"Wouldn't I? Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do." She moved toward the door. "You finish that soup. I'm going to talk to Galen. I hope to hell his phone calls have come up with zilch."
Galen was leaning against a tree a few yards from the porch. He switched off his phone as she came out of the house. "I was expecting you."
"Why?"
"You're not one to sit around when you're not happy about something."
"How do you know?"
"My impeccable intuition. Which at the moment is telling me that you want to grill me about my progress."
"Consider yourself grilled."
"Promising. If Travis can come up with the cash. A million dollars is not to be sneezed at."
"For the Wind Dancer?"
"No way. For the privilege of spending four hours in privacy with the statue."
"A million dollars for that short a time? He'll never go for it."
"You hope."
"It wouldn't help Cassie."
"Shock value?"
"It wouldn't help." Her hands clenched into fists. "And I don't want it happening. Don't give Travis the proposal."
" I beg your pardon? "
"I don't know what he's paying you, but I'll pay you more."
"You have that kind of money?"
"My parents left a comfortable inheritance. I have a trust fund."
"And you'd use it to bribe me?"
"I'll pay you anything if you'll forget about the Wind Dancer. If I don't have enough money, I'll find it."
He shook his head.
"If you don't want money, name your price. I'll do anything you want."
He tilted his head. "Are you offering me sexual favors?"
"I would if I thought it would do any good. But you're not attracted to me. We're too much alike."
"Are we?"
"Yes. You must have sensed it too. It would be like making love to your sister."
He laughed. "And I'm definitely not into incest."
She tried to keep desperation out of her voice. "Tell me what you want and I'll do it. I'm not dumb and I have terrific motivation. That can get most things done."
His smile faded. "If we're so much alike, then you should know I wouldn't betray a friend. I have old-fashioned principles."
She had known the chances were slim, but she'd had to try. "I mean it. I'll do anything. Think about it. There must be something you want done that no one else is willing to do. It's not often you get an offer like that."
"It's hard not thinking about it." His gaze narrowed on her face. "I can see I'm going to have to keep my eye on you. You're entirely too single-minded on this issue. You just might decide to make a call to Andreas."
Jesus, he was sharp. "If you've talked to Travis, you know that's not an option."
"I'm not so sure…" He shrugged. "Go back inside. I don't want to take the chance of anyone seeing you. People remember good-looking women. I have to check with my guys in the woods."
She smothered her despair as she watched him walk away. It had been a long shot, but she had been willing to try it. Okay, so it hadn't worked. She would just have to think of something else before Travis got back.
If he came back. The impression she had gotten was that Travis's "business" was not safe. His life had never been safe, and there was no reason to expect it to change now. It was possible he wouldn't come back. He could be killed or sent on the run. All her worry might be for nothing. He might abandon them if his life was on the line.
He wouldn't abandon them. As much as she resented and feared him, she knew he would keep his promise to Jessica. Christ, how she wished he wouldn't do it. The dominoes were falling faster, and she couldn't seem to stop them.
Stay away, Travis. Don't come back.
Please, don't come back.
"At last." Jan van der Beck gave Travis a bear hug. "It's about time you came and took over the reins. I'm too old for this."
Travis laughed as he returned the hug and then stepped back. "You weren't too old to chase after that pretty little Italian countess six months ago. Is she going with you on your cruise?"
"There's a possibility. She has a daughter, in case you're interested. I understand the woman even has a modicum of brains. Though I never understood why you make that a requisite. Stupidity is so much more relaxing." He started toward the playground a short distance away. "Where are the goods?"
"My jacket pocket." He fell into step with Jan. "You weren't followed?"
"Is the student questioning the teacher now? I'm never followed when I don't want to be." He glanced at Travis, whose gaze was scanning the surrounding trees. "You don't believe me. I'm insulted."
"Sorry. It's habit. I've had to be a bit cautious in the past several months."
"And now also, evidently. That fake mustache definitely does not suit you."
"I thought it wouldn't hurt. One of Galen's sources told him my picture was ordered to be circulated to every police officer in Amsterdam. Let's hope they haven't gotten around to it yet."
"Well, they won't expect you to be strolling in a place as public as this." He thought about it. "Maybe."
"Thanks for being so comforting. Is that the phone booth where we're supposed to leave the package for Karlstadt?"
Jan nodded. "The minute we're sure the money's in the waste can."
"Which waste can?"
"The red one by the front gate." He grinned. "The one being discreetly monitored by the bearded man by the cotton-candy stand. I told you Karlstadt would be anxious."
Travis glanced at the man Jan had indicated. Good-looking, blond hair, full face, beard. As he watched, the man casually folded his newspaper and strolled over to a bench by the gate. He frowned. "There's something familiar about him."
"How can you tell with that bush on his face? It's got to be as phony as your mustache."
"I don't know. It's just…something." He shrugged. "I may have run into him before if he's a hired gun."
"Possibly. Are you worried enough to walk away?"
Was he worried? He was always worried when an unexpected element appeared in a deal. Yet familiarity was not recognition…"I guess not."
"Good," Jan said. "I want the deal done. I don't think Karlstadt's man will try to stop us as long as he sees us make the exchange. And Karlstadt knows you're holding back half of the goods."
"Let's get it over with and get you on that cruise." He waited until the crowd around the playground entrance had dispersed before strolling toward the red waste can, keeping one eye on the man by the stand. "A department store shopping bag?"
"Right. De Bijenkorf's."
The shopping bag was jammed to one side of the can, the top stuffed with newspaper. So far, so good. While Jan blocked him from view, he retrieved it and moved quickly toward the phone booth. "Come on, Jan. I can practically see you walking up that gangplank now. You've got it ma-"
A popping sound.
Silencer.
Shit.
He dove for the ground as he reached for his gun. "Down, Jan."
"Too…late." Jan was falling. "My…leg. Run, Michael."
The blond man was sprinting toward them with a gun drawn.
Another shot.