"I won't hurt anyone."

"Tell that to your friend Jan."

He flinched. "You would have had a ball practicing medicine in the old days before they discovered anesthesia." He finished buttoning his shirt. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll go outside and find Galen. I need some air."

Her hands clenched as she watched him leave. She had caused him pain, but she would be damned if she'd show him the remorse she felt. He was tough enough to take almost anything, and she had to be just as tough.

She carried Jessica's medical bag back to the bedroom and put it on the chair by the nightstand. Jessica was curled up on the bed next to Cassie. She stood looking down at the troubled child and her sister, who was willing to give up everything to protect her patient. They were both sleeping deeply, and she felt a sudden surge of protectiveness toward them. Strange. Jessica had always been the caregiver, the safety net in a shaky world.

Not now. Jessica was beyond her depth. Hell, maybe Melissa was too, but she couldn't let that matter.

She had to dive in, try to keep them all afloat and hope they didn't drown.

She moved over to the other nightstand, opened Jessica's handbag, and began to search through it.

"You okay?" Galen asked as he walked toward Travis. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Because of this wound? I remember hearing about a time in Tanzania when you walked five miles with a machete stuck in your leg."

"Yeah, but not every man is a superman like me. And I always take R and R when I can get it." He checked his watch. "You have forty-five minutes before transport arrives. Go on back in the house and sit down."

"It's more restful out here."

Galen nodded. "I can see your point. She definitely doesn't want you going after the Wind Dancer."

"She'll have to get used to the idea." Travis leaned back against the doorjamb. "Have you been able to finalize it?"

"I had a man contact Paul Guilliame, the assistant curator of the museum. He's known to be open to bribes."

"The Wind Dancer is a little different."

"But Guilliame's frailty of character should hold us in good stead if the money's enough and the presentation is right." He smiled. "And my presentation is always right."

"There's something else I need you to do."

Galen gazed at him quizzically.

"I think I know the man who killed Jan. He certainly knew me. He wanted me dead, not Jan."

"You recognized his face?"

He shook his head. "The eyes were vaguely familiar. Green, slanted a little…but he had a fake beard."

"So what do you want from me?"

"Find someone to break into Interpol's computer banks for me. I need to look at mug shots."

"Unless you have a starting place, it could take you the next fifty years to go through that many records."

Travis knew that, but he had to begin somewhere. "Then it will take me fifty years. Just get me the hacker."

Galen nodded. "I can't promise to deliver him by the time we get to Paris, but I'll find someone."

"Good." It wasn't good. He couldn't see much good in anything right now. Jan…

"Do you want to talk about him?" Galen asked quietly. "Sometimes it helps."

Travis shook his head. "He's dead." His lips twisted. "There's nothing to say."

"It's not your fault. Jan's been in the business a long time. He knew what he was doing."

"I know that."

"But you're alive and your friend is dead." Galen shrugged. "Tough. But deal with it."

"I am. Just get me the hacker."

"Consider it done. I've just thought of a man who might be able to do it. Stuart Thomas. He's a little weird, but there's nothing he doesn't know about computers." His phone rang and he answered it.

He listened for a moment and then hung up. "I think we've got Guilliame. He'll take the statue out of the display case to a room in the back on the pretext of having it cleaned. He says there will have to be guards at the door or it will look suspicious. He knows a couple who will look the other way for a price."

"And the price?"

"Total? It's gone up. Two million. Pretty high for four hours with a bloody statue. I can bargain."

"No time."

"You have the money?"

"I have something to barter with."

"Worth two million?"

"I think Guilliame will agree. Karlstadt did."

"You're going to use the merchandise you promised Karlstadt?" He gave a low whistle. "That could be dangerous."

"I'll worry about that later."

"You may have to worry about it sooner."

"Screw him. It could have been Karlstadt who killed Jan."

"But you're not sure."

"No, I'm not sure of anything right now." He met Galen's gaze and repeated, "Screw him."

"Far be it from me to interfere with a man bent on revenge. I've found reason usually goes out the window." He turned away. "We should be in Paris by midnight."

"Hire more men," Deschamps said as soon as Provlif picked up the phone. "And don't talk to me about money. I have all the money you could possibly want. Now find Cassie Andreas."

"She may not be here to find."

"What?"

"My CIA contact says there are rumors she's been taken by your old friend Travis." He launched into the explanation.

Deschamps was silent for a moment after Provlif finished. "Highly unlikely."

"The President flew back to Washington from Japan claiming he was ill. Andreas is healthy as a horse."

The more Deschamps thought about it, the more he was inclined to believe the rumor. Travis had never mentioned the child in his conversations with van der Beck, but Andreas could have trusted him enough to ask him to help his daughter. And Travis was sharp enough to have been able to pull off the escape. Excitement began to surge through him. Everything was coming full circle back to him. Travis, and now perhaps the child.

"Deschamps?"

"It could be true."

"Why would he take the kid?"

For the same reason Edward had wanted her? It was possible. Maybe Travis's interference at Vasaro had been merely a setup for a move of his own.

"I want Travis's phone number."

"I've been trying to get it."

"Try harder. You know damn well the CIA knows it if Travis was at this place in Virginia."

"I told you they weren't able to trace his calls."

"I don't want to trace them. But I may want to talk to him."

"I'll work on it."

"Do it. Then get on a plane and come back here. I may need you." He hung up and sat back in his chair. He wanted that phone number. He felt a strange need to be in contact with Travis. It had never happened before with any of his other targets, but Travis was different. Travis had humiliated him, and taking the money from him wasn't enough. And this new information showed Travis as still another danger. He was not only a threat, he was competition. Yes, he wanted to savor this kill, toy with Travis, show him he would always be one step ahead.

What would that next step be? If Travis was as hot as Provlif thought, he should be hiding out. But Edward had killed his friend and Travis was sentimental enough to want revenge. To do that he would have to identify and then locate Edward. The only lead Travis had was Henri Claron's death, and it was likely he would pursue it.

So, Lyon?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps not.

Travis had been robbed of the money he'd been expecting, and keeping Cassie Andreas hidden could be an expensive proposition. He might decide it was necessary to go forward toward his prime objective.

Edward would definitely have to go over everything he'd learned about Travis and then just follow his instincts…

Paris

The modest apartment was on the outskirts of Paris near a small, very green park. It was also four blocks from the Museum d'Andreas.