“Sounds familiar,” Jock murmured.
“Not at all. I’ve never been bloodthirsty. I do only what’s necessary.” Kaskov glanced down at the report again. “Sean never returned to Ireland as far as it’s known. But Rory made several trips to Nice and Madrid, where his twin had set up shop during the next twenty years. But only after a decade or so had gone by. He probably had to bury his pride to be the first one to make an approach. But he’d always been the one who was dazzled by the twin mystique and thought he needed Sean to complete himself. He never mentioned his brother to any of the men in his organization. But once he was seen with Sean at a casino in Nice.”
Jock went still. “Which casino?”
“Which one do you think?” Kaskov asked softly, “Lagazar Casino. Sean spent a lot of time there. As you can see, a connection emerging. It appears that Rory wanted to reunite with his twin, but Sean was still reluctant. Rory had done too well, and Sean wasn’t about to fade back into his shadow. He made Rory come to him.”
“And would Sean have been put into the shade?”
Kaskov nodded. “He never rose above the role of enforcer or occasional assassin after he left Ireland. He would have felt humiliated if he’d had to face comparison to Rory again.”
Jock was quickly reading his own copy of the report. “And he preferred to work for Jacques Manard and a few other crime bosses where he felt he had at least a little prestige.”
“Presumably.” He put the report down on the table. “So now we have a peek at the inner workings of the minds of the brothers Norwalk. I hope you found it interesting and worth the wait.”
“Interesting. Far from complete.” Jock was still reading the report. “Sean changed his name to Marc Sanford?”
“So it says.”
Jock glanced up at Kaskov’s expressionless face. “And you’ve never seen this report before?”
“Never. I told Eve that I knew nothing about Rory Norwalk.” He smiled. “Now we do. A first report, but quite informative. Do you wish to call Eve or should I? She should be pleased.”
“I’ll do it.” He was still gazing at Kaskov’s face. “She might be pleased, but you’re not. There’s something … bothering you.”
“Is there? Mind reading? Or just being a good chess player?”
“I think your mind is operating at warp speed, and I’m wondering what you’re trying to work out.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to wonder somewhere else.” He rose to his feet. “I’ve enjoyed our little get-together, but I have to start to work. I believe it’s time you left the property. Do you need a car?”
“I have one parked down the road.” He got to his feet. “I’ll see you soon, Kaskov.”
“I imagine you will,” he said dryly. “But please not at such an early hour. I know you only wanted to make a statement, but I might find a second time more disturbing.”
Jock started for the door, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You told Eve you knew nothing about Rory Norwalk. You never said you knew nothing about a Marc Sanford.”
“Do you wish me to say it?”
“No, I imagine you lie exceptionally well. Now that you’re on guard, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” He smiled. “But it’s something to think about it. I’ll find out for myself. But that means I’ll also be able to use it any way I please.”
He turned on his heel, and a moment later, he’d left the columned mansion.
He called Joe Quinn the moment he got into the car. “I’ll call Eve with the rest of the info I got from Kaskov, but I wanted to give you the name Sean Norwalk used from the time he and his brother parted ways. Marc Sanford. And he was working for Jacques Manard at least a good part of that time. Got it?”
“I’ll check it out,” Joe said. “I’m glad you managed to gather something of value from that trip to Kaskov’s lair. You’ve been gone a long time, Jock. Eve was getting nervous. What the hell were you doing there?”
“Not much.” He started the car. “Just playing chess, Joe.”
CHAPTER
10
LAKE COTTAGE 9:05 P.M.
Changes.
Cara stopped playing and gazed out at the lake. The water was still, but she could hear the wind in the trees. Soon it would touch the crystal smoothness of the lake surface and bring it to life. And the storm would follow the wind. She could feel it coming. She could feel him coming.
Just as she could feel those changes coming, as haunting and unable to escape as the sonata she had just played. Dear God, how desperately she had tried to escape it. But in the end, she had to face who she was, who she had become, even if that meant that she could no longer be what Jock wanted her to be. Yes, everything would change, and she might not weather the storm.
She fought off the fear at the thought. Choices. Her own soul, her own choices. And the music. She had the music. She could weather anything. She lifted the bow and started to play again.
It had started to rain by the time she saw the headlights of the gray Toyota Jock had used the last time he’d been here. She stopped playing as she felt the relief sweep through her. Eve had told her that Jock was fine and on his way back to Atlanta, but she was always on edge when Jock and Kaskov were anywhere near each other.
And she had known that she couldn’t hide any longer.
She got to her feet and moved to the top of the steps as she heard the car door slam.
“I heard you playing as I drove up the road.” Jock was running around the car, raindrops catching in his fair hair. “Magnificent welcome.” He smiled up at her as he took the steps two at a time. “Relax. I’m fine. Were you staking out the porch to check me for battle wounds? Both of us survived without incident.”
“I don’t believe that. Eve told me that you found out some information we needed about Norwalk, but Kaskov might have given that to Eve without your going after him.”
“True. But perhaps not as quickly. And with much less satisfaction on my part. I was very frustrated when I left here, and I needed an outlet.”
“And did you get it?”
“Aye.” He looked beyond her at the door. “I need to see Joe. On the plane, I was going over the timeline of what had been happening, and I made a few phone calls. I think I have an idea of what’s been going on.”
She tensed. “What? Tell me.”
He moved toward the door. “Sure. Right after I talk to Joe and get his—”
“No. Now.” She moved between him and the door. “I want to know now.” First test, don’t worry about anything but being who she was and not what he wanted her to be. “I don’t want you to pat me on the head, I don’t want you to put me aside or set me on a shelf in some kind of crystal showcase. That’s what you do all the time, Jock, and it’s got to stop.”
He went still. “You’re being weird again. I know you’ve been upset by all that’s been going on, but this isn’t the time to get temperamental on me.”
“Temperamental?” She laughed incredulously. “I guess that’s an apt description of who you think I am. Just an artist, a musician, a dreamer, with all the emotional hang-ups that traditionally go along with it. Just a kid you have to protect because you think I can’t protect myself. You’ve done that ever since the day we first met.”
“You were a kid then. What did you expect?”
“Nothing. I suppose you’re not that different from anyone else. Darcy and Eve have been hovering over me all day.”
“Good for them. You’re a target, dammit.”
“But I’m no longer a kid,” she said fiercely. “I have to accept responsibility for myself. I can’t let you or Joe or Eve wrap me in cotton wool. For God’s sake, even Kaskov treats me like a doll he takes out to play with and puts away when I bore him. Perhaps I bore you, too, Jock. That’s too bad. I should never have let you go tearing down to New Orleans to see him.”