Jessica sat down and leaned back in the chair. She didn't speak for a moment, letting Cassie become accustomed to her presence. The child's color was good, but her face was pinched. Making sure she ate enough was already difficult; if she deteriorated even more, she would have to be fed intravenously. What a sad contrast this Cassie was to the pictures Jessica had seen of her before Vasaro. She'd been the darling of the White House with her long, shiny brown hair and luminous smile. Full of vitality and mischief. America's poster child…
When are you going to learn? she told herself. Don't get all choked up. Her esteemed colleagues never passed up a chance to tell her that a doctor's emotion never healed a patient.
Screw them. If you didn't let it blind and hog-tie you, love could do a hell of a lot.
"Pretty scary dream? Would you like to tell me about it?"
No answer. She hadn't expected one, but she always gave Cassie the opportunity. Someday a miracle could happen and Cassie might be tempted to come out of the darkness and answer one of her questions. "Was it about Vasaro?"
No answer.
It was probably about Vasaro. Terror, death, and betrayal were the stuff of nightmares. But what element was the primary catalyst that had driven her away? The nurse she had loved and trusted and who had been prepared to hand her over to killers? The murder of the Secret Service guard and the nurse? It could be a combination of causes. "Your daddy is coming to visit you soon. Would you like me to brush your hair?"
No answer.
"It doesn't matter. You look very pretty anyway. If you don't mind, I'll sit here until your daddy comes and we'll talk a little." She smiled. "Well, I'll talk. You seem to have given it up for a while. That's okay. You'll catch up when you decide to come back. My sister, Mellie, is a real chatterbox these days, and she was as closed as a clam for six years. I hope you won't see fit to stay away that long. Mellie's much happier now." Were Cassie's locked muscles relaxing a little? "This is Mellie's room you're in right now. She loves yellow and I had to talk her out of lemon and ease her into wheat-colored wallpaper. The brighter the better for Mellie. But it's a cheerful room, isn't it?"
No answer, but Jessica hoped that wherever she was, Cassie was listening. "Mellie's at Harvard now, studying to be a doctor like me. I miss her very much." She paused." Like your mom and dad miss you. Mellie calls me every week and we talk and that helps. I bet your daddy would really like you to talk to him tonight."
No answer.
" But he'll love to be with you whether you talk to him or not. He loves you. Do you remember how he used to play with you? Yes, I know you do. You remember everything, the bad and the good. And the bad doesn't hurt you where you are, does it? But it does hurt you when you go to sleep. If you'd come back to us, the dreams will stop, Cassie. It will take a little time, but they'll go away."
She could sense that Cassie was beginning to tense again.
"No one's going to make you come back until you want to do it. Someday you'll be ready and I'll be here to help you." She added softly, "I know the way, Cassie. Mellie and I traveled the same road. I wonder where you are. When Mellie came back, she said it was like being in a deep, dark forest with a canopy of trees overhead. But some other children who have gone away say they went to a nice cozy cave. Is that where you are?"
No response.
"Oh, well, you'll tell me when you come back. I'm a little tired, do you mind if I just rest a little until your daddy gets here?" Dear God, she was weary of questions. Answer me just once, sweetheart. She closed her eyes. "If you want to sleep, go ahead. I'm here. I'll wake you if the bad dreams come."
Paris
Gleaming emerald eyes, teeth bared to tear into him1.
Edward bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding. He was drenched with sweat.
Only a dream.
How ridiculous to become so upset that he was actually dreaming about the statue. It had to be the humiliation he had experienced at Vasaro.
Not his fault. The plan had been perfect. If it hadn't been for Michael Travis, he would have had the child. How had the son of a bitch known about the raid? There had to have been a leak. He would find it and then he would find Michael Travis and blow the bastard's brains out.
Wide awake now, he decided to go to the room. Just the thought of it was bringing him peace.
He got up and made his way downstairs. The intricately carved door gleamed richly in the soft light. And once inside the room he would be able to relegate the small failure at Vasaro to the back of his mind, where it belonged. There was no question that he would persevere and get what he wanted soon.
Including the death of Michael Travis.
Georgetown
"Where the hell is Michael Travis?" Andreas demanded when Ben Danley got into the limousine. "It's been eight months. How long does it take the CIA to find one man?"
"We're close." Danley sank down in the seat across from Andreas. "We've trailed him to Amsterdam. You don't understand, Mr. President. He's been mixing with the criminal underground since he was born. His father was a thief and a smuggler and he was brought up all over Europe and Asia. He has contacts that-"
"So you've told me." And Andreas didn't want to hear it again. He wanted Travis and no excuses.
"I'm only trying to explain that he moves in circles that leave few tracks. We expect to locate him within two days." He paused. "You haven't told us what to do when we do find him, sir."
Andreas turned to look at him.
"Do you wish him to have…an accident, Mr. President?"
Andreas smiled sardonically. "Why, Danley, you know the CIA no longer does sanctions. You've cleaned up your image."
"I didn't say we'd do it," Danley said. "I merely asked if that was your wish."
"Very cagey."
"It's a natural question. If Travis is the man behind Vasaro, I can see why-"
"Travis wasn't behind it. I don't want him hurt," Andreas interrupted. "And you don't know jack about what happened at Vasaro."
"Your pardon, sir, but naturally Keller at the Secret Service shared his files with us since the attempt on your life was made outside the U.S."
"It wasn't Travis."
"Then why have we spent eight months searching for him?"
"Because I told you to." He looked out the window at the darkness. "And I wanted you to have a damn good reason to find him. What did Keller tell you?"
"That there was an attempt on your life and the nurse and six men had been killed and three wounded. Fortunately, you and the First Lady had gone to Paris."
"Fortunately?" His tone was biting. "Do you realize that my daughter hasn't spoken a word since that night? And that my wife was on the verge of a nervous breakdown after six months of trying to cope with a child who looked at her as if she were a stranger?"
"I'm sorry. A slip of the tongue. I only meant-"
"I know what you meant." Andreas closed his eyes. "I shouldn't have jumped on you. I've been under a hell of a strain lately."
" But I understood Cassie was doing much better and would be coming home soon."
"That's the statement to the press to keep the reporters from searching for her. She's the same as she was when we brought her home from Vasaro. We've tried four different psychiatrists, and they've done zilch."
"Perhaps a little more time and-"
"I want her well now." His eyes opened. "And I want to keep her safe. Find Travis."
"Keller and his men will keep her safe. They know their ass is on the line."
"They didn't keep her safe at Vasaro. If Travis hadn't shown up, she'd be dead or held hostage."