“Okay, okay. I think you should just confront her.”

“What? You’ve been telling me all this time that I should forget about her! How can you flip-flop like that?”

“You obviously need closure.” He held out his hand. “Now can I please have my cyanide pill?”

“You want to die now?” That was a shock.

“No. But this is beyond annoying. You are keeping me alive to be your analyst. And after all this time, you still haven’t asked me about the truth.”

I shook my head. “Not this again. Everyone on death row says they’re innocent. And more than likely they’re not. Why should I believe you?”

Dekker spread his hands wide. “I’m not going to beg. I’ve done some bad stuff in my career. But you keep accusing me of genocide and torture. And while I’m guilty of many things, those two are not on the list.”

I cocked my head to the side, feeling a little like a spaniel who thought he might have heard the word treat but wasn’t sure. “Look. My evidence is credible. And you admit you’ve committed acts of evil. Why should I believe you?” Seriously, this saw was getting dull.

“Why do you insist on pigeonholing me?” he said quietly, and the words shook me.

“What…what did you say?”

“You heard me, Bombay.” Dekker steepled his fingers. “I have killed a lot of men. Most of them were armed. I’ve given orders for torture to retrieve information. But I’ve never directly participated in it, nor have I ordered the torture of civilians. I’ve been paid handsomely for my work. But I’ve never tolerated the torture or murder of women or children.” He punctuated his monologue with a shrug.

I stared at Arje Dekker for a long time. His words wormed their way through my brain and froze there. They caused just enough doubt…just enough to make me stop and think. Oh, there was no doubt when it came to the fact that Dekker was a gun for hire. There was no doubt that he’d chosen to work for whoever paid him most, good or bad. But the fact that some of what he said made me question my beliefs was important. Dekker might, indeed, be innocent of the gravest offenses-the ones that would make me want to kill him.

“You’re right,” I said finally. “I did pigeonhole you.” His expression did not change as I continued. “And maybe that makes you right about other things too.” I stood, gave him a brief nod, and left Arje Dekker alive.

Chapter Twenty-nine

I knocked on the door and stepped back to await an answer. Nothing. I rapped a little more firmly. Still nothing. It was two o’clock on a sunny afternoon. I decided to wait it out on the swing on the porch.

A few neighbors gave me odd glances as they came and went, but no one said anything. It was a hot day, but I sat in the shade and there was a slight breeze. My quarry would be home soon enough. And then I would have the answers I needed to send me back to my RV. I might even be able to hook up with a few county fairs before state fair season. The thought of that made me smile.

“Cy?” Ronnie seemed shocked as she came up the sidewalk. She looked around furtively. “What are you doing here?”

I rose from my seat and said nothing as she approached. I didn’t owe her anything more than what I had in my hands. I’d fulfilled my promise. That was all that was important.

What I’d underestimated was the effect seeing her again would have on me. My stomach shrank and my heart skipped several beats, no matter how calm I tried to appear. I hoped she wouldn’t notice.

The sun illuminated her light blonde hair. The pale skin that had made me shiver in Mongolia had been replaced by a bronzed glow. It took everything I had not to scoop her up and carry her up to her bed. Until I remembered that it wasn’t just her bed, but Drew’s as well. The lust was instantly replaced with anger. Anger was good. I could handle anger.

“Don’t worry,” I said as nonchalantly as I could (which was considerably less nonchalantly than I’d hoped). “I just had to drop something off.”

She looked around. “Did you talk to Drew?”

“Again, don’t worry. I have nothing to tell him. What happened in Mongolia stays in Mongolia.” She started to speak, but I didn’t want to hear it. “Besides, I’m just fulfilling my promise to you.” I handed her the envelope I had brought with me and turned and walked away.

“You are an arrogant idiot,” she shouted after me, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of turning around. Mostly because she was right about the idiot part. I didn’t need anyone to remind me of that.

“Quit running away from your problems and talk to me, dammit!” Ronnie shouted.

I turned and stormed back to her. “You are not my problem. I am my problem. The fact that I fell in love with you on the steppes of Mongolia is my problem. But you don’t love me. You told me that last time I was here.”

“I never said I didn’t love you,” she said quietly.

“You said you loved Drew. That was enough.” I left out the other complications, mainly that she would never fit into my world and her mere existence would constantly remind me of my faults. I could never tell her that.

“Why do you want to walk away?” she asked.

“I don’t want to. I don’t like walking away. I just feel that this is what is best for both of us.” What is best for me. “I want you, and I can’t have you.”

“What…what does that mean?” Ronnie’s voice quavered, cutting me to the quick.

“Trust me, Ronnie. Pigeonholing me is just the tip of the iceberg. You don’t want to know about what’s beneath the water.” Ooh. That was good. A Titanic reference. Was that the best I could do?

“You are saying I don’t want to know who you really are?”

I shook my head. “I’m saying I don’t want you to know who I really am.” With that, I turned and headed for the car.

Good-bye, Veronica Gale. And that would be the last time I would ever let my heart get in the way of my dignity.

I was mildly surprised as I drove away that she didn’t run after me. What did I expect? That she’d throw herself at my feet and beg my forgiveness? That clearly wasn’t going to happen. I must admit I did check the rearview mirror. She looked pissed. Her arms were folded over her chest and her face was red. That was a little bit satisfying.

Within twenty-four hours, I was back in my motor home, driving aimlessly around the state of Ohio. Why? I don’t know. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. Sartre had mellowed somewhat after her international adventures. I took in a movie now and then and had dinner wherever I stopped for the night. I was getting my groove back by burying the memories of betrayal.

Ronnie didn’t e-mail me. Not that I expected her to after what I’d dropped off. I’m sure she was not happy to find a complete file on the wrongdoings of one Senator William Anderson. Oh, yes, the sexual liaisons were just a small part of what that man had done wrong. I gave her a two-inch-thick file folder detailing some pretty shady money-laundering schemes involving the French government and several accounts of bribery in a “pay to play” scam he was running. I was pretty sure she hated me now.

I didn’t feel the need to give her too much information. I wanted an I told you so moment but didn’t want to crush her completely. Oh, and I also looked up Drew. It wasn’t hard to find out who he was. Not that I would do anything with the information.

Turned out Drew was Drew Connery, a Rhodes scholar and former campaign manager for the Johnson County Democrats. He ran a Web site on the conspiracy theories behind Senator Anderson’s death. Well, great. I hope she shared the information I gave her with him. Let them both stew in their sullenness.