Текст книги "Pandora's Daughter "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE WHITE CLAPBOARD HOUSE HARLEY had rented was on the outskirts of Dalton, surrounded by hills and hidden from the road by a thatch of pine trees. It was at least seventy years old with a wraparound porch and steps that appeared worn with wear.

"Not very impressive," Harley said. "It's an old country farmhouse but the farmland was sold off and the family moved away. Evidently it was a large family. It has four bedrooms and two baths and a big country kitchen. The realtor said the key would be in the hanging basket of ivy."

"It's fine." Grady reached up and retrieved the key. "Food?"

"I'll run to the grocery store in town." Harley looked at Renata. "Would you care to come with me?" She shrugged. "If you like." She got in the front seat. "I have something to buy too."

"A missile launcher?"

"How did you guess?"

Megan shook her head as she watched the car pull out of the driveway. "She may not be kidding."

"Well, it won't be a missile launcher." He unlocked the front door. "They're not that easy to come by in a small town. And Harley will keep an eye on any other purchases."

There was no foyer and the furniture in the living room was shabby and none too clean.

She wrinkled her nose. "I hope the bedrooms are better."

"We can make do." He headed for the kitchen. "It won't be for long."

She followed him. "That's good. I'm a little tired of listening to Renata and you jab at each other." There were glasses in the cupboard and she got one down and rinsed it. "And I don't understand it."

"Maybe I resent the fact that she tried to use you." He smiled. "I regard that as my privilege." He held up his hand as she opened her lips to speak. "Just joking." His smile faded. "Somewhat. I know you only allow people to use you at your discretion. But ever since that night you spent in the trailer with Gillem, I've noticed a change. Renata is closely connected to Gillem and that's touching you."

She couldn't deny it. "It's not affecting my judgment." She turned on the kitchen faucet and let it run for a moment until the flow was clear. "Well water." She took a sip. "It's good. Remember we had well water in the beach house that summer? It had too much iron in it and it made my hair limp and flyaway. You used to tease me about it."

"I remember," he said thickly.

She stiffened and her gaze flew to his face. Oh, shit. She glanced quickly away but it was too late. She could still see the sensuality, the earthiness, the familiar readiness. And her own body was mirroring all of those responses. She turned away, finished the glass of water, and set the glass on the counter. "I'd better take a look at those bedrooms. The sheets may need washing and—"

"Shh." He was behind her, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts. "The sheets can wait." He was rubbing slowly against her. We can't.

My God. Her entire body was alive, tingling. A shudder went through her. Heat. Overpowering need. She arched back against him. "This shouldn't be happening."

"Yes, it should. I said I'd give you time, but you want this." He was pulling her down on the floor. "Don't you?"

Oh, yes. More than water in the desert, more than fire in winter. His hands reached out to grasp his shoulders. "Harley will..."

"He'll let us know when he comes into the house." He was unbuttoning her blouse. "Damn, I've missed you."

"Ridiculous," she said unevenly. "It hasn't been that long." Yet it seemed forever, she thought dazedly. She knew what he meant. The hunger had been there, ignored, but waiting. "This isn't going to make any difference. I won't let it."

"I'll take what I can get. If you think you can walk away from me afterwards, do it." He pulled off his shirt and threw it aside. "Just don't lie to either one of us that it won't make a difference. Every time makes a difference." His palm was rubbing her, caressing her. "Every single touch..."

MADNESS.

Her breath was coming in gasps as she forced herself to unclench her fingers that were digging into his shoulders. "I have to go. I need to—" She closed her eyes. She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay here and hold him and then do it again. She pushed him away and sat up. "Harley and Renata will be back soon." She grabbed her clothes and jumped to her feet. "I'm going upstairs and find a bathroom."

He didn't move, watching her as she moved toward the door. "Have I ever told you that you've got a spectacular ass?"

"No."

"Probably too busy with more important observations," he said. "Like the way you squeeze around me until I go berserk when I'm—"

"Be quiet." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm walking away from you, Grady."

"I noticed." He smiled. "And now you know that you can do it. It's not as if I have some Svengali power over you. So why not enjoy ourselves at every opportunity? Life is short and you never know what's coming around the corner."

He did have power over her, she thought. Just staring at him lying there naked she could feel a stirring. She had never seen a more beautiful male specimen and that male could do things to her that no one else had ever done. She was no Galatea, but the sexuality between them was too strong to ignore and she should be wary. After today nothing was clearer.

"No?" His gaze was narrowed on her face. "I'm having a hell of a time getting you to bypass that control fear. Think about it. There were moments when I wasn't in control, when you made me feel weak and sappy as a high school kid. Maybe I should be wary of you."

She moistened her lips. "Maybe you should."

He smiled. "I'll take my chances. Every time I sense a weakness, I'm going to move in." He made a shooing motion. "Go get dressed. I'll bring your suitcases up and put it in one of the bedrooms. I'll see you at dinner."

"Okay." She flew up the stairs and moved down the hall throwing open doors until she came to a bathroom. A few minutes later she was stepping into a tub shower and pulling the plastic curtain. The cold water was a shock on her warm, relaxed flesh, making it taut and firm. She wished it could also shock her mental faculties that had not been able to prevent that sexual encounter from happening.

Forget it. So she had wanted Grady and took him. He was right, if he had power over her, she had also been aware her touch could weaken and make him shudder. Why shouldn't they enjoy—

That's what Grady had said. Persuasion or control?

It was too dangerous to opt for persuasion with a man who had controlled her memories for all those years.

But sex was sex. It wasn't as if there was anything deeper, that she was in—

No! She wouldn't even go there. She would get Molino and then dive back into the life she had chosen before any of this craziness had revealed itself. Lord, that life seemed far away and alien now.

Alien? It was her present existence that was weird and alien. It was frightening that she hadn't instantly realized that fact. Grady had said she had changed, but she'd still be able to go back once this was over.

Lord, she hoped she'd be able to go back.

WHEN MEGAN LEFT THE BATHROOM, she passed Renata in the hall carrying an armful of bed linens.

"I'm putting these in the washer and then I'm going to hit the shower myself," she said. "This place must not have been rented for years. It's kind of sad to think about it. Like a little old lady who's been neglected and forgotten."

"That is sad." And she found it curious that Renata would make that comparison. "You like this house?"

"Yes, particularly that wraparound front porch. It reminds me of a house in Boston. I lived in with my mother. I was only five or six, but it seemed... embracing." She shrugged. "Or maybe I thought so because I didn't see that much of my mother. I was shuttled back and forth between her and my father in Germany and that year was a good year." She headed for the stairs. "I took the second bedroom on the left since I noticed your suitcases were in the first one." She glanced over her shoulder. "Only your cases. You're not sleeping with Grady here?"

"No. Not that it's any of your concern."

"I just wondered if I was going to have to tiptoe around the 'situation.' " She made a face. "Then I guess I wouldn't have had to be tactful and gone shopping with Harley."

"Tactful? You?"

"I can be tactful. I think it's a mistake for you to sleep with Grady. He's a Controller and I don't know how you could trust him. But if he brings you pleasure, then I want you to have it."

"Thank you," she said dryly.

"I probably said that wrong. You'd never guess that I'm considered very well spoken at the office."

"No, I'd never guess."

"But in the office it's as if I'm an actress on a stage. It's easier." She started down the steps. "I'll get these sheets in the washer and then I'll put in a meat loaf before I take my shower. Harley says he going to make his favorite dessert."

"Baumkuchen."

"That's it. It took forever to find all the ingredients."

"Then I guess you didn't have time to buy your missile launcher," Megan said teasingly. "Grady said you'd have trouble finding it in Dalton, Georgia, anyway."

"If I'd wanted it, I could have gotten it. Mark would have found a source."

"Your cousin must be an amazing man."

"Amazing? You could call him that." She called back, "You make the salad. Okay?"

"Okay." She finished toweling her hair as she headed for her bedroom. The encounter with Renata had done her good. It had brought her back to a form of normalcy that didn't revolve around Grady and her feelings for him. There were other people in the world, other viewpoints, other goals. There were memories of childhood and wraparound porches and Cousin Mark who was an enigma still to be deciphered.

With any luck she'd be able to concentrate on all those peripheral figures tonight and forget about Grady.

IT DIDN'T WORK.

She couldn't have been more acutely conscious of Grady during dinner. She was aware of his every move, every intonation of his voice. Dammit, she hoped it wasn't obvious to Harley and Renata. It was ridiculous to feel like this.

She escaped right after Harley's Baumkuchen. She murmured an excuse and fled to the wraparound porch with which Renata had been so enamored.

The moon was almost full and shining brightly over the woods in the distance. She took several deep breaths. That was better.

"Megan."

She went rigid. She didn't turn around. "I don't want to talk to you right now, Grady."

"I didn't think you did." He came forward to stand beside her. "And that's okay." He pulled out his cell phone. "How do you feel about talking to Molino?"

She stared at him. "Now?"

"You said you were going to speak to him. Now's as good a time as any."

"I just didn't expect it to be so soon." She slowly reached out and took the phone. "Not tonight."

"You're so on edge I don't think Molino could faze you." His lips twisted. "Believe me, I prefer that I be the focus of any disturbance you're feeling, but I want this over. He's going to try to hurt you any way he can. He probably will hurt you."

She shook her head, "I'll handle it. Did you bring up his number?"

"Yes." He reached out and took the phone back from her. "But I'm going to have to set up the call. The first thing Molino will assume is that we're trying to trace him. I'll get it for you and introduce you to the scumbag. It will be safe for you to speak for only a few minutes." He quickly dialed the number and waited for it to ring. "Molino? No? Sienna, this is Neal Grady. I have Megan Blair here. She wants to talk to Molino. No, don't hang up. I knew you'd be afraid the CIA would arrange for a satellite trace so I'm hanging up. If Molino wants to talk to Megan he can call us on whatever phone he considers safe. She's going to be on the phone for three minutes. When her times up, she's gone." He hung up. "Now we wait."

"Do you think he'll do it?"

"Oh, yes. I hate to admit it but Renata is right about that scum-bags—" The phone rang and he handed the phone to Megan. "Talk to him."

"This is an unexpected pleasure, bitch," Molino said. "Though if you're going to plead with me to let you live, it's not going to happen."

"I'm not going to beg you. Why should I? Your men are bunglers. They haven't been able to touch me." Blood lust, she thought. Renata had said to raise his bloodlust. She added deliberately. "Are you as inadequate as they are?"

He was silent, but Megan could sense the fury. "Your mother didn't think so," he said softly. "Do you know how many men raped her while we held her?"

Shock and disgust seared through her. "Your son, Steven."

"But he was such a generous boy. He liked to share on occasion."

Pain twisted inside her. Smother it. Grady had said he would try to hurt her. Don't let it go on. Attack. Find a weakness. What did Molino fear?

And then she knew what path to take.

"But he was punished for what he did, wasn't he? My mother made him go mad. She held his hand and all the putrid foulness of his mind exploded. It was so easy for her. She should have done it before that night. I hear your son wept like an infant. He was a weakling who never—"

"Shut up," he said harshly.

She was getting to him. "In a minute. I've no desire to talk about a loser like your Steven. I just want to make sure you know that you have no chance of killing me as you did my mother."

"Is that why you called?"

"Yes, and I wanted to hear your voice. It helps me focus."

"Focus?" he repeated slowly.

"I'm tired of you hunting me down. I want you to die, Molino. But first I want you to become a mindless, gibbering idiot like your son." She added with soft venom, "Would you like to hold my hand, Molino? The madness must be hideous if your Steven killed himself to escape it. Would you like to join your son?"

"Freak," he said hoarsely.

"Yes. But you knew that I was my mother's daughter or you wouldn't have tried to kill me. But you've lost your chance. You've driven me to come after you."

"Hang up," Grady said.

She nodded at him but continued, "And my mother found you, didn't she, Molino? It was the middle of the jungle and she still located your camp. I'll be able to do that too. You're helpless just as your son was helpless."

"I'll kill you." Molino's voice was shrill. "Freak. Freak. Steven and I will slice you to pieces. You can't get away from us."

He was still raving as she hung up the phone. She was shaking. "I believe there's no question that Molino will come after me himself. He's not about to hide out in Madagascar and let someone else cut my throat." She handed Grady the phone. "And to put it on the record, Molino has gone around the bend. He was talking about his son, Steven, as if he was still alive."

"I told you that he was obsessed."

She shivered. "And ugly. I've never been that close to such ugliness." His lips lifted in a mirthless smile. "So you decided to wallow in it."

"We wanted him angry. I had to stab him where it hurt. He believed my mother was responsible for his son's death, so I decided not to argue with him."

"You sounded very convinced yourself."

"I'm still not convinced she was a Pandora. Even if it turns out she was, I don't think I am. I just had to make him believe it. He hates 'freaks' and there's a part of him that's afraid of them. I had to play on that fear. Did I get off the phone before the call could be traced?"

He nodded. "I gave you a little leeway."

"I thought you might." She turned away. "And now I think I'll go to bed."

"Come here," he said softly as he took a step forward. "And don't tense up. I just want to hold you. You're shaking."

"I don't need anyone to—" Her face was buried in his chest as he pulled her into his arms. Lord, he felt good, closing out the horror Molino had brought. "After my switching in the woodshed, you're giving me hot chicken soup?" she murmured. "This isn't necessary, Grady."

"It is to me." His hand was stroking her hair. "I had to watch your face while you were taking Molino's filth. I need a little comfort."

"How selfish," she said unsteadily.

"What's new? I've never been anything else."

"You weren't selfish that night in the cave the day my mother died. You helped me even though you knew it wasn't going to be an easy fix. You could have left me alone with the voices."

"No, I couldn't. I tried, but it was already too late for me." His fingertips gently brushed her temple. "So that was selfish too."

"You're not convincing me."

"Amazing. And you're so wary of my intentions. Are you getting soft, Megan?"

"No." She pushed him away. "I just believe people aren't all black and white." She headed for the door. "Except for Molino. He's all black to the bottom of his soul. Will you get me a photo of Molino? If he's coming after me, I need to know what he looks like. I wouldn't know him if he walked up to me in the street."

He nodded. "I'll contact Venable and have him send me a photo on my cell phone and print it out."

"Sienna too. He was enjoying torturing Edmund Gillem. He wasn't just obeying orders."

"I'm not surprised. He was a hit man before he joined Molino's group and he's an ice man. He and Molino agree on some things, but he's been known to diverge on others."

"When can I have the photos?"

"Tonight. I'll call right away."

She opened the screen door. "Fine."

"You did a good job tonight, Megan," he said quietly.

"Damn right I did." She left the porch and headed for the steps leading to her bedroom. She wasn't shaking any longer but she was still upset. The ugliness of that conversation seemed to be still swirling around her, touching her with filth.

"Are you okay?" Renata met her at the top of the steps. "You called Molino?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I followed Grady out to the porch. I thought he was going to bother you and you were disturbed enough."

Her brows rose. "So you were going to protect me from him?"

Renata didn't speak for a moment. "Maybe."

"I can take care of myself, Renata."

"But you care too much. You let people hurt you."

"Then that's my choice."

"It's all in how you look at it. Life is made up of different scenarios ready to be triggered by a word, an action. If I'm there to say that word or make that action, then the hurt never happens."

Megan stared at her in amazement and then she started to laugh. "My God, that's the most convoluted explanation for being a busybody I've ever heard."

She tilted her head. "Really? I can get much more convoluted without even trying."

"I'm sure you can." Her smile lingered as she asked, "Why me? Why choose me to protect?"

"I don't know." Her tone was suddenly awkward. "I think... I like you." She added quickly, "Of course, it could be that you're family and I've been trained to protect the family."

"Yes, it could be that," she said gently. "But I hope it's not. I don't have many friends, Renata. It would be nice if you turned out to be one."

Renata looked away. "We'll have to see, won't we?" She changed the subject. "What about the Molino call?"

"He was frothing at the mouth when I hung up. I let him think I was a Pandora and a Finder like my mother. He bought it."

"He thinks freaks are freaks and he doesn't know enough about us." She paused. "You could have told him I was the Finder. It would have taken some of the heat off you."

"It was better if he had a primary focus for all that paranoia. That way you could fade into the shadows. Did the CIA manage to get a possession of Molino's for you to use?"

"Not yet. They're trying his house In Madagascar and it's pretty well protected."

"Well, I think we can be sure he won't be going back there until he knows I'm dead," she said dryly.

"Frothing?" Renata repeated with a grin.

"As a mad dog." She headed for her bedroom. "With the emphasis on mad. I think he's slipped a few cogs." She stopped at the door. "I want to know about Finders, Renata, what to expect. Will you come in and tell me about them?"

Renata nodded. "Though there's not much to know." She followed her into the room and dropped down on the window seat. "You said your mother was a Finder."

"But I didn't know that until Grady told me. I didn't know anything about her talents."

"That would feel... odd. I've always known about the family and that most of us have one talent or another, I knew I was a Finder by the time I was seven. I didn't develop any other talents until later."

"You weren't frightened?"

"Mark wouldn't let me be frightened. My mother was pretty busy and had no time for training, but she sent me to Mark." She smiled. "I think he was impatient with dealing with me sometimes until Edmund told him that he'd chosen me as the Keeper for the Ledger. After that he never let me know if I was a bother to him. He knew he had to prepare me."

And teaching the Keeper of the Ledger was more important than the needs of a little girl.

Renata was smiling at her and shaking her head. "You're feeling sorry for me. Mark was very good to me. You don't understand."

"No." Megan said. "But I'm trying to do that. Tell me about being a Finder."

"I'm pretty good at it. Mark thought it was a valuable talent and worked with me."

"How do you do it?"

"First, you have to have an object belonging to the person you're trying to find. You already know that. The object is generally called the anchor because it's the only thing that keeps you steady once you're on the trail. Then you concentrate and see if you can make a connection."

"Connection?"

Renata frowned, trying to explain. "It's kind of a... touching. But most of the time you have to get close enough for the tether to work before you make the connection. Then you reach out and connect and it's like a rope pulling you, leading you. A tether."

"And that's all?"

She nodded. "Unless the connection is strong enough to give you a viewing. Sometimes after you make the connection you get a picture of the subject. If you're lucky it can give you a clue and you won't have to entirely depend on the tether to find the subject."

"But having something belonging to Molino is the key?"

Renata nodded. "Give me a strong enough object to use as an anchor and I can find anyone."

"Well, hopefully Venable will be able to deliver one to you soon." She was silent a moment. "It really works, Renata?"

"It really does." Renata smiled. "I give you my word. If I can go on the hunt right away, there's a chance we may be able to find Molino without dangling you over the fire." She got to her feet. "Have I reassured you?"

She nodded. "Knowledge always helps. I feel as if I'm walking around in the dark."

"At least, you have company." She headed toward the door. "You have the kind of personality that makes people want to share your dark days. Someone will always be there ready to help you, Megan. Grady, Harley, even me."

She closed the bedroom door behind her.

Megan moved toward the window and stood looking out at the moonlit fields. Molino was out there somewhere, eaten up with hatred, planning, moving. How close?

THE PHOTO OF SIENNA AND MOLINO was under her door when she woke the next morning. She experienced a ripple of shock when she saw the picture. She had unconsciously expected a mug shot or passport photo, but this was a shot of the two men together at a bistro table in an outdoor restaurant. They were casually dressed and smiling, two ordinary-looking men in their fifties, relaxing, perhaps on vacation. Grady had arrowed and labeled each man on the fax. Molino was a little heavier, with a hooked nose and a thatch of thick brown hair, sprinkled with gray. He wore an orange-and-brown striped shirt and khakis. Sienna's hazel eyes were slanted and vaguely catlike in his triangular face and his hair was fair and thinning. His shirt and trousers were immaculately tailored and he gave the impression of being ultrafastidious.

She was still staring at the photo when Grady knocked on the door a few minutes later.

"I wanted to make sure you got them first thing," he said. "They came in late last night. Surprised?"

"Yes. I probably shouldn't have been. I don't believe it was the fact that they look so ordinary but the photo itself. They're sitting there in the sun, drinking wine, having a good time as if they deserved it. Yes."

"They don't deserve it." She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. "They kill, they torture, they sell little children to beasts that destroy them. If there was justice in the world, they'd be writhing in hell."

"Sometimes justice takes a long time coming."

"Then let's hurry it along, dammit. Can't we do something more?"

"Venable is pulling every string he can with the FBI and local law enforcement in Tennessee to try to locate Molino. It takes time."

"Meanwhile Molino and Sienna are sitting in the sun and living the good life," she said bitterly.

"Not at the moment." He smiled. "I think you stirred him up enough last night to make sure he's not sitting on his duff."

"Good."

"And I did hear from ATLPD about the truck belonging to Phillip's attacker. The tires were purchased from National Car Service by credit card."

"You have a name?" she asked eagerly.

"Tim Darnell. He's a student at Georgia State University. Twenty-two years old, bright, good-looking, no police record."

"Then it might not be him," she said, disappointed.

"And it might be. He grew up on a farm in South Georgia and he was crazy about guns and hunting. His parents are dirt poor, but Darnell appears to have plenty of money. The police interviewed one of his ex-girlfriends and he's into dominance and power games. She left him because she was afraid of him."

"Can't they bring him in for questioning?"

"They would if they could find him. He hasn't been back to his apartment in days. They've staked it out but no luck."

"You think he's gone to join Molino?"

He shrugged. "Molino doesn't keep anyone but old, trusted lieutenants close to him. Certainly not a fresh-faced kid who didn't do the job he set him to do. But if we can get our hands on Darnell, we may persuade him to help us trap him."

She asked cautiously, "How?"

He lifted his brow. "Not torture. Though I'd use it if I had to do it. At this point I'd do anything that had to done. But it would probably be more efficient to pull out the bag of tricks you're so wary about. I'm a Controller and there aren't many people I can't influence. I take it, you wouldn't mind if I made Darnell do what we want?" No.

"I suppose I should be grateful for small favors." He turned away. "At times I suspect you're just as prejudiced as Molino about so-called freaks."

"That would be irrational considering I'm one of you."

"But a small part of you is still fighting accepting that." He said over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, "Harley's cooking breakfast and it should be ready in thirty minutes. Don't be late. Harley's temperamental if his food gets cold."

"Heaven forbid." She threw the photo on the nightstand and headed down the hall toward the bathroom. She was glad that Grady had the news about Darnell's identification to balance the discouragement she'd felt gazing at the photo. It had lifted her spirits that they weren't operating in a complete fog. It might be frustrating and maddening to have to wait for developments that would let them go after Molino, but at least they were making tiny steps forward.