Final Target

Chapter Nineteen

Number 15 Rue Lestape was a small, elegant town house near St.-Germain.

"He's not there now, you know," Pichot said. "I checked it out before I called you."

"He may come back." Galen tested the front door and then strode quickly through the alley to the back of the house. "Or there may be something inside that will tell me where he is." He bent down and examined the lock on the door. Excellent craftsmanship. It took him a couple of minutes to spring it. "Open sesame."

"What if there's an alarm system?" Pichot asked. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

"Deschamps isn't going to want the police to come pounding on his door." He stepped inside. "Come on, Pichot."

"Maybe I should wait in the car."

"I don't think so." Galen smiled at him over his shoulder as he turned on his flashlight. "Not that I don't trust you, but I like the idea of having company while I'm strolling through Deschamps's lair. You're a little too wary of our absent friend."

"You don't need to worry. I'm more scared of you." Pichot's gaze was wandering around the small hall. "Nice. I wonder what that tapestry cost?"

"You've never been here?"

"Deschamps is not one to get chummy. I always picked him up outside."

It was an exquisitely furnished area. A Persian carpet covered the oak floor and led toward a large room several yards away.

"What are you looking for?" Pichot asked.

"A study, a library…" He glanced up at the spiral staircase. "Maybe the bedroom."

"What's that?"

Pichot was staring across the room at a door. But not an ordinary door. Every inch of it was covered with magnificent floral carvings.

Galen started toward it. "Evidently a portal of importance. Let's see w hat's behind it."

The door was locked.

"Hold the flashlight." He squatted and started to work. With some difficulty, he finally managed to spring the lock. He took the flashlight from Pichot. "Now let's see what we have-" He stiffened. "Holy shit."

"What is it?" Pichot shoved him aside and took a step inside the room.

A red light on the far wall blinked on.

"No!" Galen grabbed Pichot, pushed him through a window, shattering glass, and dove after him. The house exploded into a fireball.

Deschamps went rigid as the signal button on the warning device that was always with him went off. He took the device out of his pocket, but the red light went out even as he looked at it.

He closed his eyes as waves of pain surged over him. "No," he whispered.

It was gone.

"Damn you." Travis's hand tightened on the phone." I'm going to break your neck, Galen."

"Why bother, when I nearly managed to do that on my own?" He paused. "I didn't expect it. I thought maybe a desk or a safe would be rigged but not the whole damn house. The switch wasn't triggered until Pichot stepped into the room. It doesn't make sense."

"Did you get a glimpse of what was in that room?"

"It looked like a bloody museum. Like an Aladdin's cave with paintings and sculpture…That's what doesn't make sense. One of the paintings had to be a Monet. I'd swear it was the water lily painting that was supposedly burned with the Rondeau estate last year. If that was an example of the quality of art treasures in that room, why would Deschamps blow it up?"

"I'll ask him…when we find him." He added grimly, "And if you don't go off on the hunt alone again. I want your promise, Galen."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Galen."

"I guess fair is fair. I had my shot. I'll let you have yours."

"Thank you," Travis said sarcastically. "I appreciate the favor."

"You should," Galen said. "I was royally pissed when I picked myself up off that sidewalk outside Deschamps's house."

"Are you coming back here?"

"Soon. I've still got to go see the Dumairs in St. Ives. See you."

Travis hung up and went outside on the porch. Dammit, he should have known Galen would do something crazy if the opportunity offered itself. He was always a law unto himself. Admit it, he was jealous of Galen, who was free to go after Deschamps and not tied up here. Well, at least Galen had gone on the offensive.

They would just have to see what kind of fallout his actions would bring from Deschamps.

Two nights later Cassie had a nightmare.

Melissa jerked upright in her bed at the first piercing scream.

"Cassie…" She swung her feet to the floor. "No, baby, don't do-"

"What's wrong?" Travis stood in the doorway. "I thought you said you didn't think she'd have any more nightmares."

"I said I hoped." She turned on the lamp.

Cassie screamed again.

"Don't just stand there. Sit down beside her and start talking to her."

"The usual things?"

She nodded and got under the covers with Cassie. "But when I tell you to stop, do it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to call her bluff."

"Bluff?"

"I've been telling her she won't have any more nightmares." She closed her eyes. "She's showing me I'm wrong."

"Pretty drastic demonstration."

"She wants me out. If she proves me wrong, she thinks I'll go away." She cuddled closer to Cassie. "Talk to her, Travis."

She closed him out, only vaguely aware of the murmur of his voice. Cassie was keeping her at bay. There was no strong pull catapulting her into Cassie's world as there usually was during one of the nightmares. It took her a few minutes to force herself into Cassie's mind.

Terror.

Swirling horror behind her.

Monsters.

"No monsters," Melissa said.

"Liar." Cassie was running, going deeper. "They're here. I have to get away."

"If they're here, it's because you brought them. And you can send them away."

"I told you they'd come."

"Because you want an excuse to stay here."

"Have to go deeper…"

"No." Melissa put herself in front of Cassie, blocking her path. "Stop running."

"Get out of my way." Melissa could feel the force of the child's willpummeling her. "Go away."

"There are no monsters behind you. Turn around and see."

"I won't. I won't."

"Turn around."

"They're here. I have to run."

"Turn around." Melissa took her shoulders and forced her to turn around.

"I won't look."

"You will look."

"You can't make me."

"You know that's not true. I'm stronger than you are now, Cassie. Open your eyes."

The child held out for another moment and then slowly her lids lifted.

"What do you see, Cassie?"

"Monsters."

"What do you see?"

"Monsters."

"What do you see?"

"I told you," she said defiantly.

"Then why haven't they hurt you?"

"Michael is keeping them away."

"Go away, Travis."

"No!" Cassie struggled to get away from her. "You come back, Michael!"

But Travis's voice had stopped.

"He's gone, Cassie. And you're still here."

"The monsters are coming. They'll get me."

Jesus, her will was strong. "They're not here. You don't see them."

"Don't tell me what I see."

"Then you tell me. What do you see?"

"Masks and teeth and eyes…"

"But they haven't hurt you. Because they're not real. I'm going to hold you right here and let you face them. If they get too close, I'll be here to protect you."

"No, you won't." She was sobbing. "You hate me."

"I love you."

"Then let me go."

"When you tell me what you're seeing."

"Mon-" Her voice broke. "I have to-I can't go back. I have to go deeper."

"What do you see?"

She suddenly whirled on Melissa. "Nothing," she screamed. "Nothing. Nothingl"

"No monsters?"

"No monsters. Are you satisfied now?"

"Oh, yes." Tears were running down her face as she drew Cassie into her arms. "I couldn't be more satisfied, baby."

"Let me go." Her arms tightened around Melissa even as she spoke. "I hate you."

"Soon." Melissa rocked her back and forth. "I'll let you go soon, Cassie…"

It was over an hour later when she opened her eyes.

"Hi." Travis was sitting in the chair next to the bed. "How are you?"

"Okay" she whispered. She kissed Cassie's forehead before slipping out of bed." It took a while to get her to sleep."

"What the hell happened? She screamed like a banshee when I stopped talking to her. It scared me silly."

"I was pretty scared myself."

"But it worked out all right?"

She nodded. "Breakthrough. She admitted to me and to herself that there were no monsters in the tunnel."

"So no more nightmares?"

"God, I hope not. Her imagination is powerful enough to create whatever she wants to. But at least she's aware now that she was lying to herself. The best possible result would be for her to start doubting the reason she thinks she's in the tunnel."

"And what is that?"

"The Wind Dancer wants to keep her there to be safe."

"Can you convince her that's not true?"

"I'll try to nibble away at it." She turned off the lamp on the nightstand. "I only hope it doesn't take long. I'm going to make a cup of decaf and try to get back to sleep. Do you want one?"

"Why not?" Travis followed her to the kitchen and watched her as she made the coffee. "The two of you didn't need me tonight, did you? That's why you sent me away. To prove to Cassie that she could do without me."

"And we did it." She sat down at the table. "That should make you happy. You're free of her."

"That's not entirely fair. I've never begrudged my help with Cassie."

"Even though you used it as a bargaining tool."

"Touche." He lifted his cup to his lips. "It's the nature of the beast. I'm no saint either, Melissa. I've never pretended to be."

No, he'd always been open with them about his character and motivations. The way he thought might be as convoluted as a Chinese puzzle, but they'd always known where they stood with him. "I guess you had your reasons. You said you were worried about your friend Jan. It seems you had cause."

"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."

"Do you believe you actually have a soul, Deschamps?"

"Because I'm not a sentimental fool? What is a soul? My entire being sings when I see a beautiful painting or a magnificent statue. I shed tears when I first saw a picture of the Wind Dancer. Who's to say that my sensitivity doesn't equal yours?"

"I'm not a cold-blooded killer."

"That's a poor argument. You're an intelligent man, but you'd be a much worthier adversary if you didn't let your emotions control you. It was very clear when I killed van der Beck."

He smothered the surge of rage. "You had no reason to kill Jan."

"Of course I did. It hurt you. I always have a reason. I never indulge myself with senseless slaughter."

"Not even when you killed your stepfather?"

"Ah, you've been busy. And what did you find out about my esteemed parent?"

"That you didn't like him and demonstrated that dislike by chopping him into pieces. Just what did he do to you?"

"He put me in prison for the very love he tried to instill in me. I practically lived in his art gallery. Wasn't it natural that I tried to take just a few pieces for my own? I had a lot of time to think when I was in prison. It was like being in a cocoon and turning into a butterfly."

"Hardly. Maybe a cobra. Why are you telling me this?"

"I want you to understand me. I want you to know what's waiting for you." He paused. "You should have died at the museum. I was planning on killing you all and grabbing the statue. I would have done it if it hadn't been for that woman."

"You killed Jessica Riley, the only woman involved in this."

"It wasn't Jessica Riley who called Andreas and had him send the police that night." He paused. "But I find it interesting that you're lying to keep me from knowing about Melissa Riley. I was planning on looking her up in the near future, but I believe I'll have to put her near the top of my list."

"And distract your attention from my humble self?"

"There's time for all of you. Have you killed Cassie Andreas yet?"

"What?"

"You have the Wind Dancer. There's no reason to keep her alive. She must be a burden." He laughed. "My God, you haven't done it. That soft streak is going to be the death of you. It's difficult to be patient. Think about it. Dream about it. I will." He hung up.

Travis swore softly as he punched the end button.

"Problems?" Galen was standing in the doorway.

"It's about time you got back."

"Deschamps?"

Travis nodded. "You struck a nerve when you invaded his territory. Evidently, he's feeling the need to communicate."

"Anything interesting?"

"Just threats." Against him, against Melissa. "Damn, I wish we could have traced the call."

"Who knew he would decide to call you?"

"He may call again."

" If I start trying to get a tech crew together, we'll blow the cover."

Travis knew that. It was just damn frustrating that he couldn't take advantage of the lead. "He has contacts. He had my number and he knew the statue wasn't in the museum. He also knew Melissa was the one who blew the whistle. Can you find out who he's using?"

"I can try." His gaze shifted to Melissa, who was sitting on the beach. "Are you going to tell her?"

Travis hesitated and then shook his head. "Nothing to tell." Nothing but ugliness and blood and a homicidal maniac focusing on her. She had enough on her plate and didn't need another shock. "Maybe if you can get me something concrete."

Galen turned to go back into the cottage. "And maybe not. I can see protectiveness raising its gnarled, interfering head. If she does find out, you can bet she's going to give it a lethal karate chop."