She sat up straighter on the sofa. “What kind of problem? Venable. You mentioned Venable. You said you were working for him? The CIA? That doesn’t make any sense. We were all walking a tightrope just to keep Venable from taking you into custody. If MacDuff hadn’t been able to make a deal with him, he’d have thrown you into prison.”

“But it seems he had something else in mind.” His lips twisted. “A man of my talents can be a valuable commodity in Venable’s line of work.”

“He’s using you?” Anger flared through her. “Dammit, get him on the phone. I want to talk to him.”

He smiled faintly. “Only you would want to jump in and take on Venable when you’ve just had a knockout punch of your own. You don’t need to protect me. I’m not a kid any longer, Jane.”

She knew that with her mind but she couldn’t stop seeing him as that beautiful, broken boy he had been. “I still want to talk to Venable. Yes, I’ll give him hell, but maybe I can squeeze some information out of him.”

“You won’t have to squeeze. Not him. Not me. But give yourself a little time. Drink your coffee.” He leaned back in the chair. “You’d only get upset if I dove in and tried to explain now. You’re very protective, Jane.” He smiled. “No one should know that better than I do.”

“Dammit, I am upset. My friend was murdered and nailed to a door. I wasn’t very protective of her, was I?” She leaned forward. “Now you tell me what’s happening, Jock.”

“Wait for MacDuff,” he said quietly. “He should be here anytime now.”

“MacDuff? He’s coming, too? I don’t want to wait for MacDuff. I want you to-”

“Leave the lad alone, Jane.” MacDuff was standing in the open elevator. “I know you’ve been through a great deal, but so has Jock.” He smiled. “You mustn’t intimidate the poor boy.”

She stiffened as MacDuff stepped out of the elevator. Presence. Charisma. Force. She was always aware of those three aspects of MacDuff’s personality when he came into a room.

“Intimidate?” She shook her head. “I’ve never been able to intimidate Jock.”

“That’s not true,” Jock said. “You’re a truly fearsome woman, Jane. From the first time you sketched me in the garden at the castle, I knew that I’d never be free of you.” He got to his feet. “So I’ll leave and let MacDuff handle you. He likes to think he can call the birds from the trees.”

“Then you should have given me the chance to talk you out of letting Venable use you,” MacDuff said curtly. “I’m not pleased with you, Jock.”

“I quake. I quiver.” Jock moved toward the kitchen. “I have to make decisions for myself now, MacDuff. Venable used me because I made the choice.”

“Stop it,” Jane said. “I won’t have this.”

MacDuff turned back to her. “You’re right. Jock and I are both a little on edge, but we should contain it. You have a right to be upset with us.” He smiled. “But then we wouldn’t be so frank in front of you if we didn’t regard you as family.”

“Is that supposed to flatter me? I’ve no desire to be a part of you or that crumbling estate. Go to hell.”

Jock glanced back over his shoulder. “Now it’s time for you to quake and quiver, MacDuff.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Is that what you want?” MacDuff asked her quietly. “I’ll work on it if it will please you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Aye.” His lips indented at the corners. “But it’s bullshit that put a little color in your cheeks. I don’t like to see you pale and strained. Has it been a bad time for you tonight?”

“Bad time? You might say that. That bastard crucified my friend. He pinned her to that door like a-” She broke off. “And I don’t know why. But I’m going to find out.”

“Yes, you are.” He moved across the room toward her. He looked different, she thought. He was wearing a gray tweed suit, and she was accustomed to seeing him in casual slacks and sweaters. No matter what he wore, it was difficult to take your eyes away from him. He was tall, muscular, in his mid to late thirties with dark hair pulled away from his face. His light blue eyes were a striking contrast in his olive face. It was no wonder that Celine had been drawn to him. He was forceful, magnetic-all the things that would have attracted Celine.

He said, “May I sit down?”

She nodded impatiently. “Venable has something to do with this.”

“Yes.” He dropped down on the seat Jock had vacated. “I’d like to say the bastard had everything to do with it, but that would be giving him too much credit. He was only a cog.” He frowned. “But Venable should have come to me. I would have taken care of you. He had no business bringing Jock back here to do his work.”

“Taken care of me? What are you talking about?”

“I told you I regard you as family. Naturally, I’ll take care of what is mine.”

Arrogant, possessive bastard. Don’t argue. “Just tell me why anyone should have to take care of me,” she said through set teeth. “Why did Jock show up tonight?”

“He thought you were in danger. He’d received some information earlier today, and he had to make a move. He didn’t trust Venable’s men to protect you.”

“But why me? Why would anyone be targeting me?” Jane lifted her hand to her eyes. “Don’t start in the middle. The beginning, MacDuff.”

“I’m not certain where the beginning is yet,” he said grimly. “But I’ll tell you what Venable told me. Though I’m not sure that he told me everything.” He reached in his pocket and brought out a folded newspaper. “Do you recognize this?”

She took the newspaper. Le Monde. Feature section. “Yes, it’s an article that appeared two weeks ago. Celine was over the moon that she managed to wangle an article about the show.” A photo of herself looked up at Jane. Beside it were five of her paintings that were to appear at the exhibit. “It was taken before I left to go home on a visit to Atlanta.” She frowned. “Why?”

“One of Venable’s informants, Ted Weismann, sent him a copy of this article. Your photo was circled. And a date was inserted beneath your picture.”

“What date?”

“April 1.”

“So?”

“According to Venable’s informant, it was the date that you had to die.”

Shock. No time for shock. She had to recover quickly and go on, “But April 1 is eight, no seven, days away. And it’s Celine who died.” She shook her head. “It’s all crazy.”

“Venable didn’t think it was crazy. He respected this particular informant. He’d been working with him and trying to round up a group of killers for hire called the Sang Noir, who specialized in murdering political figures. He hadn’t been very successful. No proof. They’re careful and seemed to have enough money for bribes to skirt the law. It’s headed by Jack Millet. Very lethal. Very nasty. The group is responsible for at least two assassinations of world leaders in the last year. Jorge Ralez, President of Colombia. Kim Thai of South Korea, Head of the Parliament.”

She shook her head. “According to the media, Ralez’s death was drug-cartel related.”

“And Kim Thai was supposedly targeted by North Korean secret police. Neither of their killers was caught. High-profile cases and still no one brought to justice. Very strange.”

“Yes, but it has nothing to do with me.”

“It didn’t until Venable’s informant, Weismann, sent him this newspaper with your photo. He’d copied it from one that Millet had in his possession.” He paused. “He also said that Millet had been sent the photo by a businessman who was closely involved with Millet and the Sang Noir.”

“What kind of involvement?”

He shrugged. “Weismann wasn’t sure. It wasn’t unusual for Millet to negotiate hits with anyone who had the money. Murder is murder. The payout would have had to be spectacular to get him to agree to any deal.” He paused. “But he was on the phone ranting and raving with the man who sent him that clipping the moment he received it.”

“And who is this businessman?”

MacDuff shook his head. “Millet kept his arrangement with him very hush-hush. Only a few people knew about it. It took a lot of digging before Venable’s informant, Weismann, could tell him the little he found out.”