"Not yet."
"Let me know. Bye."
"Bye." Rachel hung up. Allie had sounded tired but steady, thank heaven. And Allie never lied to her. Rachel knew that she sometimes hid the symptoms of the disease, but she always told her the truth when confronted.
How many times had Allie masked the pain and exhaustion since she had started this journey?
And how much stress could she stand before she ended up in the hospital again?
Or before it killed her?
Allie had been under the ticking clock for years, but today it seemed to be going into overdrive.
She wouldn't quit, and the only thing Rachel could do was to keep racing and try to make that clock stop.
She could do it. She would do it. She just had to smother the fear and forget what a disaster it had been today.
As Allie had said, they could work through this.
It was over two hours later that Tavak knocked on Rachel's door.
* * *
He looked like hell. He had obviously showered and changed, but his face was drawn and tired. "May I come in?"
She opened the door wide for him to enter. "Of course. You've heard something?"
"Ben's dead."
She had been hoping against hope, but she had known the news wouldn't be good from the moment she had seen his expression. "I'm so sorry."
Tavak nodded. "I just talked to Nuri. It was a total setup. Ben and Nuri intercepted a truck that was supposed to deliver a large item to the museum director on campus. As it turns out, the only thing in the truck was Dawson's hit squad."
"How is Nuri?"
"He wasn't hurt, but he's not good. He and Ben had become pretty close. He managed to wing one of them before making his escape." His lips twisted. "He wants my permission to track down the entire squad and take care of them himself."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I told him to go home. This isn't his battle. And Dawson is the one I want."
Rachel watched Tavak as he stared out the window. He was hurting. When she had seen the bodies of the men Tavak had killed at the lake, she had been shocked. It had seemed to come too easily to him. She had known he was a dangerous man, but she had never been brought face-to-face with that cool disregard of life and death.
But he was not disregarding Ben Leonard's death. It was obviously tearing him apart.
"Did Ben have a family?"
Tavak shook his head. "Only a brother who lives in Florida. They were never close. Two ex-wives, neither of whom wanted anything to do with him. He was a Vietnam vet, and I don't think he ever made any strong attachments since the time he was there."
"Except for you."
Tavak shook his head. "Yeah, and all I did was get him killed."
"He knew what he was doing. Even after what happened to him in the tomb in Egypt, he didn't hesitate to do another job for you."
"I paid him well."
"It was more than that, and you know it. You probably helped make him feel alive. I'm sure he felt like he was part of something special."
Tavak managed a smile. "Maybe. He complained a lot, but no one enjoyed the thrill of the chase more than Ben."
"And he wanted to do this."
"I should have made Nuri send him back to that hospital. He would have been safe there." Tavak turned to face her. "Instead, I used him. Just as I used you."
"Bullshit. It was my choice. I insisted on joining you. I practically threatened you."
"Practically?"
"Okay, I doomed you to life in a federal penitentiary if you didn't make me a part of this. The point is, I took my own chances."
He was silent, staring at her. "I can't stop, Rachel. I have to go on. Dawson killed Ben, and I can't let him get away with it."
"I didn't think you'd react any other way."
"But I want you to back off. Leave it to me. A good man died today. We almost died today. I don't want anything to happen to you or your sister."
"Or Demanski?"
"Okay, sure. Even Demanski. I'd have a hard time living with myself."
"Then that's your problem. This isn't a game for Allie or for me. For us, this has always been a matter of life and death. Healthwise, I know Allie's on an up cycle right now."
"I'll say."
"She's not as strong as she seems. She's in her room resting right now. Sometimes she gets sick. Really sick. And every time she hits a rough patch, I never know if it's the one that will finally kill her. I've been feeling that way for years." She shook her head. "So bite the bullet, Tavak. We're in this for the long haul."
He nodded. "I was afraid that you wouldn't let me get away with it." He turned toward the door. "I had to try."
Because he was bleeding inside, Rachel thought.
And she was bleeding for him, she realized. She wanted to touch him, heal him.
"Tavak."
He turned to look at her.
"You come back here."
He didn't move. "Why?"
She went to him instead. "Because you need someone." She put her arms around him. "And maybe I need someone, too."
He still didn't reach out for her. "Is this an invitation?"
"Do you mean sex?" She shook her head. "Sex is about joy. If I have sex with you, I'm going to want skyrockets, not comfort. Now I want to hold you all night and we'll talk about Ben and Allie and all the things that hurt us and give us hope. Skyrockets are wonderful." She looked up at him. "But comfort is good, too."
He slowly reached out and cupped her face in his two hands with incredible tenderness. "Yes, comfort can be very good."
HOUSTON, TEXAS
Finley winced at the shit-kicking country music blaring from the speakers at Saddles, a bar known for its cheap beer, chicken wings, and almost daily fistfights. He glanced around until he spotted Carlos Dobal waving at him from a booth.
Finley walked over and sat down. "This doesn't seem like your kind of place."
"It's not." Dobal had exuded ease and confidence on the golf course a few days before, but he now appeared troubled. "I thought it would be best to go someplace nobody knew either of us. And where it would be relatively easy to spot someone else who didn't belong."
"What's the problem?"
"The problem is yours, my friend." He paused. "I did as you asked and checked with my contacts in the intelligence community. Your campus shooter was a professional."
Finley tilted his head. "A professional?"
"An assassin. Not much is known about him personally." Dobal slid a folded sheaf of papers across the table. "What little I know is here. Gaius Pelham is the name he uses most often, but nothing is known about his true identity or where he came from. But several government intelligence agencies had hired him on occasion."
"What governments?"
Dobal just stared at him.
"Mine?"
"You may wish to adjust the parameters of your investigation."
"You're telling me to back off?"
"If someone wanted to kill Rachel Kirby so much that they would engage Mr. Pelham's ser vices, then wanted to cover their tracks so completely that they would take the risk to murder this professional killer, it seems to me that they would be capable of almost anything."
"Whose payroll had he been on? CIA? NSA?"
"It's not likely he kept a resume. Probably everybody's."
"Shit."