She took the phone. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve not got any idea what—” She broke off as she looked down at the photo. “Olena?” she whispered. Blood. So much blood.

Shock. She couldn’t breathe. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. That look of frozen horror was unmistakable. Nightmare. This was a nightmare.

“Dead? She’s dead?”

“Throat cut. No sign of robbery. You can see your name written in blood on the floor beside her.”

She swallowed. None of it made sense. The only thing clear was that Olena had been murdered. “Was she trying to tell me something?”

“No. I believe her murderer was the one telling you something while making it as difficult as possible for you.”

“Olena.” She rubbed her temple. “I can’t quite take it in, Hu Chang. I thought she’d be happy now. She didn’t deserve this. All her life was pure hell until these last years. From the time she was a teenager she was serving tricks on the boat docks in Hong Kong. She started on drugs just to keep from cutting her wrists. But she was good to my mother, she was good to me. She’d share food with us. And she kept the men away from me until I was old enough to take care of myself.”

“I know, you told me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She shook her head to try to clear it. “I thought she’d be safe in that little village. After I went to work for Venable, I thought I’d cut the ties to that old life. But there was still Olena, and I didn’t want to leave her in that hell.”

“And you didn’t,” Hu Chang said gently. “We found a place for her, you got her off the drugs and gave her a chance.”

“And she still died with a cut throat,” Catherine said bitterly. “Just the way it might have happened on the docks in Hong Kong.”

“But she had those years you gave her, Catherine. And Ivan said they were happy years.”

“She should have had many more years. She wasn’t much more than fifty.” She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Who did this, Hu Chang? Why? How can we get him?”

“Three good questions. I have no answers.” He took the phone and dialed the photos down. “Not for Olena. Not for Jantzen.”

Her eyes widened. “Jantzen?” Shock on top of shock.

“He is also dead. I did not take these photos I’m going to show you. Venable sent them to me because you were involved, and he thought you should be advised. I take it you worked with Jantzen?”

She nodded. “We worked several drug busts together in Caracas and Quito. He’s a good guy. I liked him.”

“A good friend.” He nodded. “As good a friend as a loner like you permits herself.” He handed her the phone again. “With the exception of my humble self.”

She flinched as she saw the photos of Jantzen’s body torn by bullets. “He had a wife and a kid. He was always talking about how smart his little girl was. What happened to him?”

“A trap. He called Venable and told him that the meeting with the informant was bogus. They knew he was CIA.” He paused. “And they knew his connection with you.” He pulled out a small box and handed it to her. “This was wrapped around his hand when they found him.”

She opened the box and pulled out a fine gold chain. But it had a circular ID plaque hanging from the chain with her name engraved on the surface. “Dog tags? I don’t wear dog tags even when I’m in the jungle. Certainly not gold ones.” The metal felt oddly warm in her palm. This strange chain had been held by Jantzen, and she had the feeling that some of his vitality lingered. God, his poor wife, Laura; what would she do now? It was easy to say that everyone survived, but how? “I need to call his wife.”

“She hasn’t been informed yet. Venable wanted to explore the reasons why he was targeted, so that he had something concrete to tell her.”

She looked down at the dog tag. “What can he tell her about this stupid dog tag? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Neither does this.” Hu Chang pulled out another gold dog tag. “Olena was wearing it. Ivan said it looked like a gift. They’re both eighteen-karat gold and very fine workmanship.”

“No coincidence,” she whispered. “Halfway across the world but no coincidence.”

“That was my thought when I received word from Venable.” He paused. “And I received another message from him right before I arrived here. There are no photos yet, but he’s just heard that a Kirov Slantkey was shot in the head while riding his motorcycle in Moscow. Venable said you’d know.”

“Yes. Slantkey was the informant who told me Rakovac was holding Luke in Russia after he was kidnapped. It narrowed down the search area. I was very grateful to him.” She leaned back in her chair. She felt weak and confused and unbearably sad. Get it together. Something bad was going down, and she had to identify and stop it. “Three deaths. All connected to me?”

He inclined his head. “I would wager that Slantkey will have a piece of gold jewelry with your name on it.”

“Which could have either incriminated me or sent a message.”

“I believe it was the latter.”

“Why? I did care about all those people, but it’s not like they were family.”

“Not like a son,” Hu Chang said softly.

Luke.

Panic raced through her.

“That’s why you were checking security. You think he’s in danger?”

“I think someone does not appreciate you. Extreme bad taste, but it’s very evident. He’s spelling it out for us in gold.”

“Then why not go after me? I should be the target.”

“We won’t know that until we’re told. Or we discover for ourselves.” He was studying her expression. “You are as upset as I thought you’d be. I think I will allow you a few minutes to get over the first shock. I cannot give you more because I believe we have little time.”

“I’m fine,” she said jerkily. “As fine as I can be, considering that good people are dying all around me.”

“Shh. Just take those few minutes.”

Perhaps he was right, she was terribly upset and sad and angry. And frightened because it was clear Hu Chang believed Luke might be next. Take those minutes and try to gather her strength and mind to find answers.

She leaned back and was immediately assaulted with memories of Olena. She had been too far gone on the drugs to furnish Catherine with affection during those early days on the dock. But she had shared food and what little protection she could. And when Catherine’s mother had died of an overdose, she knew Olena had shared her pain. So different from Jantzen, who was strong and kind and able to control his own life.

Until the night when that control had been shattered by those bullets.

“Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “What’s happening, Hu Chang? You’ve known about this for at least a few days. You’ve had time to think about it. Right now, I’m having trouble thinking at all.”

“Understandable. Pain tends to obscure.” Hu Chang tilted his head thoughtfully. “It appears that you must be the primary target. But why are these other kills thrown at your door? I believe I see a pattern here. It’s like a circle. On the far outer rim is Olena Petrov, who helped you when you were a child. Then Jantzen, who was part of your life after you became an agent with the CIA. Then Slantkey, who helped you to regain your child. The circle is narrowing, becoming more intimate.”

And Luke was the center, the heart of that intimacy, she thought with a chill.

And not only Luke.

“Whoever did this knows me very well. He’d know about you, Hu Chang.”

“Without doubt. For I have made myself indispensable to you.” He smiled. “But because I’m so essential, I will be one of the last to be chosen to bid adieu to you.”

“You think it’s going to go on.” She moistened her lips. “So do I. It’s crazy, but I can see that weird circle you’re drawing, and it’s scaring me.”

“It’s supposed to scare you. That’s part of the plan. You’re supposed to be afraid, to dread, to anticipate, to suffer with every death.” He gazed at the gold chain in her hand. “It’s a plan that has been well thought out, even to those expensive little trinkets he’s using as a calling card. Do they have any significance for you?”