"My computer is in the suitcase and my medical bag is in the hall. I don't intend to make this an extended trip. Where's Grady?"

"He went ahead to prepare the way. He asked me to make sure you got safely to Paris." He gave a half bow. "I'm to deliver you physically intact and emotionally serene. What do you think my chances are?"

"How do I know? Probably not very good. Maybe fifty-fifty. Serene isn't how anyone can describe my mood these days."

"Then I'll have to rely on keeping you alive." He took her suitcases. "Let's go. I don't think you're too pleased about me substituting for Grady and being on the move may keep you from venting. I have very tender feelings."

He was right. She had felt disappointed when she had come into the room and seen Harley sitting in the chair Grady had occupied. She supposed she should have been relieved. The time she had spent with Harley in the waiting room had been comforting. She had found him very sympathetic in his slightly off-kilter way. On the other hand, there was nothing comforting about Grady. She was wary all the time she was with him. She was always on edge and walking a fine line between suspicion and tentative trust. Lord, it had better be tentative. He had already admitted that he had not told her the entire truth. Yet the disappointment still existed. Perhaps it was because every moment with Grady was a challenge, the challenge he issued and the challenge his presence made her confront in herself.

Harley sighed. "You're not rushing to pat my head and swamp me with sympathy. Usually that tender-feelings line gets a more enthusiastic response."

"Bull." She smiled. "You don't need anyone to pat your head. You wouldn't know what to do with that kind of hogwash."

"I could learn. You're not buying it? I guess I'll have to try another tack. Let me think about it." He took her arm. "On the way to Stockholm."

"Stockholm? I thought we were going to Paris."

"We are. By way of Stockholm. Grady needs a little time to pave the way."

"And you don't want Molino to know where we're going if he's following us?"

"Oh, he's following us. But he won't be for long. Once we're in Stockholm, we'll vanish in the mist. Come on, we'll miss our British Air flight if we don't step on it." He smiled as he took her elbow. "I promise I'll make the flight interesting for you. I didn't get the chance to display my wit in that waiting room. I was too busy being kindly and consoling."

"You did a good job." And he was doing a good job right now. She realized she hadn't been nearly as nervous and apprehensive since he had appeared. Harley was not only distracting her, but his gentle touch nudging her toward the door was giving her the same sense of comfort and ease as it had in that hospital waiting room. "But you should stick to what you're good at. Admiring someone's wit is too exhausting for me at the moment."

"What a relief. The pressure is off."

And the pressure was off her too, she realized. She had a long flight to think about all the elements that had turned her life upside down.

And many, many hours to prepare herself for the next encounter with Grady.

Was that Grady's purpose in arranging for Harley to take her to Paris? Possibly.

"Let's go." She went ahead of Harley through the door. "The sooner we start, the sooner we get this over."

"SHE'S ON A FLIGHT TO STOCKHOLM," Peter Sienna said as he turned to Molino. "Darnell said the plane took off forty minutes ago."

"Was she with Grady?"

"No, Grady left her house almost two hours before she headed for the airport. Darnell thought you'd prefer that he stay and watch the Blair woman. She boarded the flight with Jed Harley, the man who was with her at the hospital."

Molino muttered a curse. "Which is the same as her being with Grady. Harley has been working for him for the past four years. Who do we have in Stockholm?"

"No one. But Max Wieder is in Berlin. Should I call him and tell him to go to Stockholm?"

Molino nodded. "I want him at the airport when that flight arrives. They may board another flight from there and I want to know where they're heading." He grimaced. "Besides, directly toward Grady. This has to be his work."

"He's trying to protect her?"

"Maybe. But he wouldn't have to send her out of the country to do that. I'd bet he has her working on the Ledger."

"Working?"

"If she's a freak like her mother, she may be able to help him find it."

"Oh, I see."

Sienna's expression was bland but Molino could sense his skepticism and even perhaps a touch of scorn. He knew Sienna didn't believe in all this psychic mumbo jumbo. He wished to hell he didn't. Even when Steven had died, Sienna had thought it had been caused by normal means. What did he know? He had been in Miami when Steven had been killed. But Molino had known it was that bitch. He had watched it happen.

The remembered pain washed over him again. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. He had seen to it that she rotted in hell, but her daughter was still alive. And so were all the other ugly freaks who were like her.

But not for long.

He would ignore Sienna's scarcely hidden contempt as he had all these years. He could resent but not blame him for not believing that Steven had been a victim of that witch. Sometimes when Molino woke in the middle of the night he didn't believe it either.

But it was true until he could make it a lie. Until he could wipe out those freaks. Until he could destroy Megan Blair and find the Ledger.

"WE'RE BEING FOLLOWED," HARLEY'S GAZE was fastened on the rear view mirror of the rental car they'd picked up at Stockholm airport. "Black Volvo. One man, I think. That probably means surveillance, not murder."

"How comforting," Megan murmured. "May I point out that there was just one man in the car that ran me off the highway?"

"Yes, but I wasn't with you." He grinned. "My reputation would be much more intimidating. I'd strike terror in their hearts."

"I don't find you intimidating."

"Because I've made an effort to tone down my aggressive nature for you." He glanced again at the rearview mirror. "I'm going to have to lose him. I don't want him on our tail when we reach the dock."

"Dock?"

"We're taking a speedboat to a private airport up the coast. We'll be flying to Paris from there." He pressed his foot on the accelerator. "Hold on. Here we go."

Hold on was right, she thought as Harley made an abrupt right down a narrow street and then screeched a left down the second boulevard.

"He's still with us," Harley murmured. "He's pretty good. It's going to take a little skill. What a pleasure..."

Pleasure? The next fifteen minutes were like riding a roller coaster, Megan thought desperately. By the time Harley was satisfied that they had lost the Volvo and they had arrived at the dock, Megan was dizzy and completely disoriented.

"Don't they have traffic police in Stockholm?" she asked as she got out of the car. "I'm surprised we didn't get stopped."

"Actually, Stockholm is very law-abiding and the traffic control is very strict here. Which is why we should jump in that speedboat and get out of town. I'm sure we've been reported a dozen times." He helped her into the boat. "I don't think Grady would like us to be detained."

"You should have thought of that before you started driving as if you were at the Indianapolis speedway."