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"More than I knew."

"Tell me about him."

"Why?"

Melissa glanced away from him. "I don't know. I don't believe it's easy for you to draw close to people. I suppose I'm curious what kind of man you would call a friend."

"A good man. He called himself selfish, but he was always there for me when I needed him. Jan was like family. He and my father were in business together. For years."

"What kind of business?"

He smiled. "An occasional art theft, but mostly smuggling. My father was a true adventurer. He thought he was some kind of swashbuckler. He lived for excitement. Jan was always the practical, calming factor in my life. At the time I didn't appreciate him when he tried to keep my father from taking me on the runs. He always said it was too dangerous, and we used to have some gigantic brouhahas."

"Your father actually took you along?"

"Sure, he thought it was educational."

"And was it?"

"You bet. I learned a lot. Of course, very little of it was legal."

"Weren't you in school?"

"Correspondence school. Jan insisted. Then, when my father died, Jan took me to Amsterdam and put me in a formal school there."

"How old were you when your father died?"

"Thirteen."

"With a background like that, you must have been a shock to the other students."

"Not so much. I was fairly subdued at the time. My father's death wasn't pretty, and I got a little roughed up myself."

"What happened to him?"

"He stepped on the toes of the head of a drug cartel in Algiers. They blew up our boat."

Her eyes widened in shock. "And you were on it?"

He nodded. "So was Jan. My father was down below and the blast killed him. Jan and I were on deck and were thrown overboard. I cracked my head on some debris and Jan had to tow me to shore. I was in the hospital for weeks. He never left me. When I was well enough, he took me to Amsterdam."

"And what about your father's murder?"

"Do you mean the police? In the business we were in, unless you wanted to end up in prison, you didn't go to the police. You took care of the problem yourself."

"Not if you're only thirteen years old."

Travis smiled. "I didn't stay thirteen."

She felt a chill as she studied his face. "What did you do?"

"Why, what any kid would do. I studied, I played soccer, I read books." He stood up and took his cup to the sink. "And I waited."

"And then?"

"You don't want to know the details." He rinsed out the cup and set it on the shelf. "I took care of it."

He was right, she didn't want to know the details. It was clear they would be both violent and savage.

"Shocked?" He was studying her expression.

"You shouldn't be. You knew I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth like you. We're as different as we can be."

"Because you wanted revenge?" She shook her head. "We're not different at all."

"Maybe not in feeling, but I guarantee we'd differ in execution. When it concerns someone I care about, I'm not into quick, neat kills." He paused. "So don't think you're going to get in my way."

She stared at him without speaking.

"Dammit, let me do it." His hands clenched into fists. "You think it's easy to kill a man?"

"I don't believe it would be hard to kill Deschamps. Like stepping on a cockroach." She stood up. "Or hitting it on the head with my silver spoon. Good night, Travis."

"Melissa, don't-" He drew a deep breath. "I may be free of Cassie, but she still needs you. You promised Jessica."

"You don't need to remind me. But she's better now. Have you heard any more from Galen?"

"No."

"But you would tell me?" When he didn't reply, her lips tightened. "I thought as much. You're closing me out. Our partnership was fragile at best. It's good to know where we stand."

"Deschamps will kill you. Listen to me. You're going after this guy as if you were some kind of commando. I know you. I've never seen anyone who loves life as much as you do. How do you yhink you'll feel taking a life?"

"I'll feel right. He killed my sister. And I'll do anything I have to do."

"Leave him to me, Melissa."

Anger suddenly flared in her. "The hell I will." She strode to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Shit, she shouldn't have done that. She could have woken Cassie.

No, the little girl was still asleep.

Her anger slowly left her as she sat down on the bed and gazed at Cassie. "You have to get well, baby," she whispered. "You're coming so close. You have to come out. You owe it to Jessica."

Cassie stirred.

Melissa froze. She had never seen her do that when Jessica had talked to her. Jessica had said she could sense a response, but this was actual physical movement.

"Cassie?"

The child turned her head away.

Rejection. But that was a response too.

"Okay." She swallowed. "One step at a time. It seems we came closer tonight than I thought. Now, I'll just sit here and talk to you. And you'll listen, won't you? We're going to talk about the Wind Dancer and you and me and the way to get rid of the monsters forever…"

"Hello, Travis. You're proving to be exceptionally annoying."

He stiffened. "Who is this?"

"Don't you recognize my voice?"

He inhaled sharply. "Deschamps?"

"Do you know what beauty you destroyed?" Deschamps's voice was harsh with pain.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's just coincidence that my house was invaded and destroyed when I know you must be searching for me? I don't think so. It was you, wasn't it?"

"I'm not the one who blew up your place. You set an explosive."

"It wouldn't have gone off if you hadn't tried to enter the room."

"You're the one who destroyed it. Why?"

"It wouldn't have been mine any longer. I'd have had to think of it as belonging to you or whomever you sold it to. It would have spoiled it for me."

"Good God, you're a closet collector?"

"What a pat phrase. You know nothing about it. But you didn't succeed in robbing me of all my treasures. Do you think I'd keep them all in one place? But you're going to pay for that Monet. You're going to give me something in return. Where's the Wind Dancer, Travis?"

"The museum."

"Screw you. You took it with you."

"How do you know?"

"Where's the statue?"

"If I did take it, you know I won't tell you. So why are you calling?"

"I told you."

"Why?"

"Perhaps I thought it was time we got to know each other. I've been looking for you for a long time."

"You found me. But you shot Jan instead."

"I had my reasons. I believe you know what they are."

"The Wind Dancer."

"It was obvious from your conversation with van der Beck that you were going to steal it. All I had to do was wait and watch."

"But you'd already scoped out the museum for yourself."

"I thought it might be necessary after you kept me from getting the little girl. It would have been so easy to ransom her for the Wind Dancer."

"So it was always about the statue?"

"Of course. Always. I've known I had to have the Wind Dancer since I was a boy. All my life I've been waiting for my chance. You've spoiled it for me twice."

Keep him talking. Find out what makes the bastard tick. "What could you do with it? You couldn't sell it, and Andreas would never give up searching for you."

"You and I both know there are still places on this earth where a man can lose himself. I've been looking at the Orient lately. Europe is getting a little too hot for me." He paused. "And a man who would sell the Wind Dancer is a man without a soul."