“You had no choice.”
“Yes I did. I could have gone with you. I could have refused to let you put me back on my shelf where you like to keep me. But I didn’t want to upset you or make you angry. You were always too important to me. But that’s a child’s excuse, and I won’t use it any longer.” She moistened her lips. “You have to stop it. I’m not going to sit on that damn shelf and watch you get yourself killed. Temperamental? Hell yes. You haven’t seen temperamental, Jock.”
Jock was silent, gazing at her. “I believe I may have just gotten a sample. Wrong word?”
“Yes.” She met his eyes. “But not all your fault. I allowed myself to be treated like that because it’s what people seemed to want of me. I guess somewhere down deep I thought if I gave what was wanted, I’d never be alone again. You came into my life when I’d lost everyone, friends, family … so I was particularly vulnerable to you. And you were wonderful to me, you enriched my life. I just wanted to hold on to you. Not fair to you, Jock.”
“The hell it’s not,” he said roughly. “Shut up, Cara. This is tearing me apart.”
“See?” Her smile was shaky. “Not fair to you. That’s what I’m trying to change. I can’t be that kid you felt you had to take care of any longer. I thought I could pretend, but I don’t think I can. It’s too dangerous for you and too scary for me. I have to be on my own.” She paused. “Even if it means that you find you don’t like me that way.”
“Shh.” His hands were suddenly cupping her face. “Hey, best friends, remember. You’re always reminding me. I’m not sure what you’re going through right now, but we’ll work it out.”
She loved his hands on her. She loved his silver-gray eyes shimmering down at her. She loved his lips, which were smiling that wonderful smile. She loved the way he was trying to soothe away the hurt he sensed she was feeling.
Too much.
“Best friends.” She took a step back so that his hands fell away from her. “Good friends. Friends that are honest with each other.” But maybe not totally honest right now. Tonight she had taken the first steps, but she found herself clinging desperately to the comfort of the past. It would take time. She forced a smile. “And if we can’t work it out, we’ll be honest about that, too.” She turned around to face the lake. “So what did you want to talk to Joe about? Timeline you said.”
“We’re back to that?” He went to the porch rail and leaned against it, his gaze still studying her. “It’s not as if I’m trying to keep anything from you, Cara.”
“No, you just don’t want it to get too close to me. Timeline?”
“It was over five months ago that Norwalk contacted Eve about doing reconstructive work on Sean. That means that it was probably shortly before that he was killed in that explosion. Joe pinpointed the coffin purchase in Connecticut or New York. But Sean Norwalk worked out of Nice for Jacques Manard and any other crime organization who would hire him. What was he doing in the New York area?”
“You think he was on a job? Eve said he was an enforcer and assassin.”
“I thought it likely he was sent to do what he did best. So I called Benoit, my agent in Nice. He couldn’t find out details, but he did verify that Sean was sent to New York on a job around that time. Benoit couldn’t definitely confirm, but it was presumably contracted by Jacques Manard.”
“A job for Manard? Then it must have gone wrong.”
“Obviously,” Jock said dryly. “Since Sean ended up in pieces. I have to tell Joe to narrow down that search on those caskets to Manhattan. And then we have to figure out why Manard sent a hired killer to New York and got him killed.”
Her gaze was searching his face. “But you have an idea or two on that, don’t you?”
“One. Singular. Because it fits in with the timeline. That was also about the time that Stanton told me you were being followed, and we found that your place was bugged. I thought it might be Kaskov or someone targeting you because of him, and I flew off to Moscow to find out. But it might have been Sean Norwalk. He could have been the man Stanton saw tailing you.”
“After me?” she whispered. “Manard sent him to kill me? Why?”
“I have no idea. I could be wrong. But it fits.”
“If he was sent from Nice … It could still be because of Darcy.”
“Not according to Rory Norwalk. He was the only one using Darcy and Sylvie for his own purposes.” He shook his head. “I’m thinking Manard sent Sean after you. I’m having Benoit try to probe deeper and come up with an answer why. He said that Manard had never been at odds with the Russian Mafia. Yet that doesn’t make sense to me. I’m betting that Benoit is going to find a feud between Kaskov and Manard.”
“But you said Norwalk was working with Manard.”
“Until he wasn’t. I’d bet that sniper who took him out was financed by Norwalk.” He straightened. “That’s all I have in mind. Most of it is guesswork. I’ll let you know more when I do. Okay?”
“It has to be.” She grimaced wryly. “However, I do appreciate knowing that I’m still tops on the hit list.” She added, “Better me than Eve.”
“I knew you’d say that.” He paused. “Do you want to come in and talk to Joe with me?”
“How accommodating you’re being now.” She shook her head. “Thanks for the courtesy, but I never said I wanted to take over anything. I know how valuable and experienced you both are. I just don’t want to be left out. And when I’m needed, I want to be there.”
His lips tightened. “I can’t promise you that.”
“I know. I’ll have to do it myself. But I had to give you fair warning.” She made a shooing motion. “Go talk to Joe. I’ll see you later.”
“Dismissed?” He was smiling curiously. “That’s another change, Cara. I’m not certain I like it.”
Changes …
“I’m not certain either.” She turned around and looked back at the lake. “I guess we’ll both have to get used to it and see how we feel as time goes by…”
*
Changes.
A presence in the darkness.
But she knew that presence very well now …
“Hi, Darcy,” Michael whispered. He was standing beside her bed. “I was sitting in the rocking chair, but my feet are getting cold. Can I climb into bed with you and cover up?”
“What are you—” She shook her head to clear it of sleep. “Michael, it’s after midnight. What are you doing out of bed? And don’t tell me you want me to go have breakfast.”
“I just thought you might be lonely. Sylvie went away this afternoon.” He smiled. “And then my feet got cold. Can I come to bed?”
“Why not?” She lifted the cover. “But only for a little while. Your mom won’t like you wandering around.”
“She won’t mind if you don’t.” He jumped into bed and cuddled close to her. She could hear the rain pounding rhythmically on the roof. The scents of lemon shampoo, Dial soap, and Michael suddenly surrounded her. Her arms instinctively went around his small, warm body. “Mama always listens when someone needs her to do it.”
“Yes she does.” She paused. “And your mom did the right thing sending Sylvie away. It was time for her to go. I’m not upset about it, Michael. Though I’m glad you decided to pay me a visit.”
“Yes, time for her to go … Always a time … Not upset…” He yawned and cuddled closer. “But maybe a little lonely because things are different and sometimes it gets confusing…”
“Different?”
“You know … Sylvie’s like you now, but still herself. She didn’t lose anything. You’ll get used to it…” He was dozing off. “She did…”
Sylvie. Still herself, all the joy and gentleness. Like Darcy, all the strength and clarity. How wonderful it would be …
As wonderful as this little boy who had come to her in the middle of the night because he’d thought she might need comfort.
“No, Sylvie didn’t lose anything,” she whispered. She brushed a kiss on his head, her arms tightening around him. “And we didn’t lose each other. You’re right, we just have to get used to something a little different. It’s just a sort of change…”
*