And left her with that lingering heat and disturbing sexual changes that his words had brought. Forget the sexual implications, just remember what was important. Montez appeared to be temporarily safe. Cameron was here, and that automatically added an additional element of security.
Two positives.
Dry her hair, pull on her nightshirt, and go to sleep.
Don’t think of Cameron; that was an automatic turn-on and distracter. If she couldn’t drift off immediately, concentrate on Kelly and her bewildering mass of question marks and dots.
Or Montez and how to convince him that she was right and he was so wrong …
* * *
Holy Mary, Mother of God, forgive me.
Montez’s fingers moved on the rosary in silent prayer. His heart was beating hard as his eyes stared into the darkness of the cave surrounding him.
Save me from causing any more deaths.
Forgive me, for I have sinned.
But wouldn’t the sinning continue if he did what Catherine Ling asked him to do? She was as violent as Santos, and the killing would go on and on. Yes, she would still hunt and try to kill Santos, but he would not be involved. He had sworn to himself that he would go no further down that path that could be sending him to the depths of perdition, that he would be done with Santos forever.
But if that was God’s will, why had he not kept Santos in that prison? Why had he sent him out in the world to test his resolve?
Because the resolve was wrong and mistaken?
Catherine Ling had seemed to be honorable and her cause just. Was that the message he should have taken away from their encounter?
Protect me from evil and ambition.
Deaths. So many deaths.
Agony was tearing through him as he thought of Father Gabriel standing at the door of the church and watching him run through the garden.
Forgive me, Father. I should have been wiser. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I just didn’t know what was right or wrong. Even you who were so much wiser couldn’t tell me. You said that I had to rely on God to guide me.
But he’s not guiding me.
I’m lost, and He’s not showing the way home.
Holy Father, please, give me a sign.
* * *
“You’re overthinking the problem.”
Catherine’s eyes flew open, pulled out of sleep, as she remembered Kelly’s last words to her.
Not that she had been deeply asleep; it had been a restless slumber. She had been tossing and turning most of the night. But it had only been when that last thought of Kelly’s had intruded that she had been jerked awake.
And she was wide-awake, she thought ruefully, as she sat up in bed. Okay, Kelly, I’ll think about it and see how I can simplify. I’m tired of leaving it up to you and Hu Chang to connect your dots. She might as well concentrate since she wasn’t sleeping worth a damn.
She got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and got a glass of water. She splashed water in her face and sat down in an easy chair with her computer. She pulled up the file Kelly had sent her and studied it. Fifteen minutes later, she was still as frustrated as when she had begun.
All the dots were still mysteries, all the gaps were not telling her anything.
She leaned her head back in the chair and looked at the computer screen. Smother that frustration. It wasn’t going to help. Approach the problem from another direction. She didn’t have the individual skills of Kelly or Hu Chang, so simplify as Kelly had suggested.
Simplify what?
Montez appeared to be an important key. Kelly was intrigued by him. Hu Chang was studying his book.
The book.
The only part of it that she might be able to decipher was the title. She accessed Google and typed in Maggi.
She sighed with discouragement as the answers started flowing on her screen. If she’d hoped to have an easy time, it wasn’t going to happen. The primary answer appeared to be a European seasoning food product, and the examples seemed to go on forever. Then it skipped to Maggie and famous Maggies in entertainment and history. She used several other search engines and came up with basically the same result.
All right, expand the search. Connect the word to something else.
Buenos Aires …
Kelly’s last words before Catherine had left her room.
She typed in Maggi and Buenos Aires and asked for the connection.
More exotic seasonings and where to find them in Argentina.
She scrolled down the screen.
She froze, her gaze on the entry that had suddenly appeared.
“Holy shit.”
It could be nothing.
Or it could be the answer.
It was a start.
Her hand was shaking as she punched in the access.
God, please, let it be the answer.
* * *
Two hours later, she hung up the phone from talking to Venable.
She leaned back and drew a deep breath. She could feel the flush burning her cheeks and the pounding of her heart leaping in her chest. Calm down. It was more than a start, but it wasn’t the entire answer.
But she could get that answer if she worked hard enough, then she’d have something with which to confront Montez. Arguments she could use to sway him.
But she had to have Hu Chang.
She got up from the chair, grabbed her clothes, and went to the bathroom. She came out five minutes later, snatched her computer, and left the bedroom. A moment later, she was opening the door of the library. Hu Chang was sitting at the desk, studying Montez’s book. She’d known he wouldn’t be able to leave it until he’d made significant headway.
She slammed the door behind her. “Anything?”
“Delighted to see you, Catherine.” He gestured to the page he’d been reading. “Fascinating stuff. But I’m not ready to discuss it with you yet. I thought you were going to bed.”
“Could you make heads or tails of it?”
“Yes, though Montez is right, it is difficult.” He tilted his head. “May I ask why you’re accosting me in the middle of the night?” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Never mind. You’re practically lighting up this boring study. Excitement, eagerness … what else, Catherine?”
“Frustration. I need to know more.”
“So you came to me.” He smiled slightly. “An excellent choice. Who else can you count on for superior knowledge?” He leaned back in his chair. “On what subject?”
“I think you know. Maggi.”
“I haven’t dealt with the title yet. I was too absorbed in the contents. But you evidently have been doing a little research when you should have been sleeping. So tell me about Maggi.”
“Maria Maggi. It’s the name on a tomb in Milan, Italy.” She dropped down in the visitor’s chair beside the desk. “And the occupant was a very famous Argentinean countrywoman of Eduardo Montez.” She opened her computer and pulled up the document she’d been studying. “A beautiful woman who caused a great deal of trouble in her day.” She turned the screen around to face him. “You’ll recognize her.”
“Yes, indeed,” he murmured, his gaze on the screen. “Eva Peron. Blond, beautiful, and ambitious to be the queen of Argentina. Perhaps the empress of the world. Would you care to tell me how she came to be the occupant of that tomb in Milan?”
“It was only one of her burial sites after her death. On this tomb, they even inscribed a different name. They were trying to hide her identity so that her corpse wouldn’t be stolen or vandalized. It was a constant threat. She wasn’t buried permanently for twenty-four years. She was an icon to the common people of Argentina. Political factions fought over possession of her body because they were afraid that her influence with the masses, even after her death, would sway their political futures. Her remains were transferred from place to place in Argentina, then Europe, so that her effect on the political process would remain negligible. Maria Maggi was the name on her crypt in Milan.”
“And Montez was such a Peron fan that he named his work after her?”
“No, I think that he thought that it was a fitting name for his project.” She met his gaze. “Didn’t he?”
“Perhaps. But I’m interested in why you deduced that.”