The Last Templar - Страница 32

Apart from sluicing off the dirt and the smell, she used the time in the shower to make some decisions. Among them was that she owed Kim and Eileen something else.

Safety.

An idea came to her.

Wearing only a bathrobe and with her hair still dripping, Tess found Eileen in the kitchen. "I've been thinking about our plans to stay with Aunt Hazel this summer," Tess said without preamble.

Hazel was her mother's sister. She lived on a small ranch just outside Prescott, Arizona, alone except for a few dozen assorted animals.

"What about it?"

Tess pressed on without missing a beat. "I think we should go there now, for Easter."

"Why on earth ..." Her mother broke off, then said, "Tess, what aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," Tess lied, flashing back to the other man who had come looking for Vance in the cellar, the gunshot, and his anguished cry.

"But—"

Again, Tess interrupted her mother. "We all need a break. Look, I'll come too, okay? It'll take me a few days to clear my calendar and arrange it with the office. But I want you and Kim to go tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Why not? You've been dying to go, and Kim can just start her Easter vacation a few days early. I'll book some flights, be easier this way, we'll miss the Easter rush," Tess insisted.

"Tess." Her mother's tone was angry and firm. "What's this all about?"

Tess smiled nervously at her mother's annoyance. She would apologize later. "It's important, Mom," she said quietly.

Eileen studied her. She had always been able to read her daughter, and today was no exception. "What's going on? Are you in danger? I want an honest answer, now. Are you?"

She couldn't lie about this. "I don't think so. What I do know is that in Arizona," she said evasively, "there'll be absolutely nothing to worry about."

Her mother frowned. It obviously wasn't the answer she was hoping for. "Well then come with us tomorrow."

"I can't." Her look and her tone left no room for argument.

Eileen breathed in deep, studying her. "Tess—"

"I can't, Mom."

Eileen nodded unhappily. "But you'll follow us there. You promise."

"I promise. I'll be with you in a couple of days."

All at once, she felt an overflowing sense of relief.

Then the doorbell rang.

***

"You should have told me, Tess. You should have told me." Reilly was livid. "We could have picked him up after he'd left the house, we could have put a tail on him, there's a number of ways we could have handled this." He shook his head. "We could have had him and put an end to this tiling."

They talked in her backyard, away from her mom and from Kim. She had asked him to be discreet and not show up with guns blazing, assuring him that they were all safe. With Aparo keeping an eye out front and waiting for the local PD squad car to show up, Reilly had quickly ascertained that the situation was, as she had said, under control and that the danger had indeed passed.

She was wearing a white toweling bathrobe, her long hair darker from being wet, her legs bare beneath the robe. Sitting under a large mallow tree, and despite the frustration and anger she could see she had caused in Reilly, she felt oddly calm. His presence had a lot to do with it. Twice in the same day, she had felt threatened in a way she had never experienced before, and twice he had been there for her.

She glanced away, collecting her thoughts, letting his own turmoil settle a bit, before glancing up at him. "I'm sorry, I really am ... I just didn't know what else to do. I guess I wasn't thinking straight. I had all these visions of SWAT teams and hostage negotiators and ..."

"—and you panicked. I understand that; it's perfectly normal. I mean, the guy was threatening your daughter, your mom, but still ..." He breathed out in frustration, shaking his head again.

"I know. You're right. I'm sorry."

He looked at her.

He hated the fact that she'd been in danger, hated that her daughter had been too. And he also knew he couldn't blame her. She wasn't an FBI agent; she was an archaeologist and a mother. He couldn't expect her to think the same way he did, to respond to such an extreme situation coldly and rationally. Not when her daughter was concerned. Not after the day she'd had.

After a long moment, he spoke. "Look, you did what you thought was best for your family, and no one can blame you for that. I would have probably done the same thing. The main thing is you're all safe. That's all that really matters."

Tess's face brightened. She nodded, somewhat guiltily, flashing back to Vance, standing there in her living room. "Still ... I gave him back his papers."

"We still have the copies," Reilly reminded her, before adding, "The boys in the darkroom are working overtime as we speak."

She managed a reluctant smile. Reilly returned it along with a small nod, then glanced at his watch.

"I'll get out of your hair; I'm sure you want to get some rest. I'll have a squad car keep an eye on the house. And make sure you lock up after I leave."

"I'll be fine." She was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was. How vulnerable they all were. "I don't have anything else he needs."

"You sure about that?" He was only half joking.

"Scout's honor."

There it was again. He really knew how to make her relax.

"Okay. If you're up to it," he said, "I'd really like you to come downtown in the morning. I think it would be really useful to go over everything again in detail with the rest of the team, get all our ducks in a row."

"Not a problem. Just let me get Mom and Kim on a plane first."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow."

Her eyes met his. "Yeah." She got up to walk him back to the house.

He had taken a few steps when he stopped and turned to her. "You know, there's one thing I didn't get a chance to ask you back in the city."

"What's that?"

"Why'd you take them?" He paused. "The documents. I mean, you must have been desperate to get out of there . . . and yet you put that thought on hold long enough to grab the papers."

She wasn't sure what had gone on in her mind. It all seemed a blur. "I don't know," she managed.

"They were just lying there."

"I know, but still... I guess I'm just surprised, that's all. I would have thought the only thing on your mind would have been to get the hell out of there as fast as possible."

Tess glanced away. She knew what he was getting at.

"Are you gonna be able to let go of this thing," he insisted, "or am I gonna have to lock you up for your own safety?" He was dead serious. "How important is this for you, Tess?"

She half smiled. "This thing, it's . . . there's something about it. That manuscript, its whole history ...

I feel I need to be there, I need to find out what it's all really about. You've got to understand something," she pressed, "archaeology, it's . . . it's not the most generous of careers. Not everybody gets a Tutankhamen or a Troy. Fourteen years I was out there, digging and shoveling in the most godforsaken, mosquito-infested corners of this planet, and all the time I kept hoping that I'd get a shot at something like this, not just obscure little pieces of pottery or a partially preserved mosaic, but something big, you know? It's every archaeologist's dream. The real deal, one for the history books, something I could take Kim to see at the Met one day and point to proudly and say, T

discovered that.' " She paused, watching for his reaction. "This must be more than just a routine case for you too, isn't it?"

He took in what she said before lightening up. "Nah, we get wackos on horses trashing museums every week. That's what I hate about this job. The routine. It's a killer." His face turned serious again. "Tess, you keep forgetting something here. This isn't just some academic challenge, it's not just about die manuscript and what it means . . . it's a murder investigation where a lot of people have died."

"I know."

"Let's get them behind bars first. Then you can figure out what they were after. Come in tomorrow.

Walk us through what you know, then let us get on with it. If we need help, you'll be the first to know. And, I don't know, if you want some kind of exclusive deal should anything—"

"No, it's not like that. It's just. . ." She realized that nothing she said would make him change his mind.

"You're gonna have to let go of it, Tess. Please. I need you to let go of it."

She was moved by the way he said it.

"Will you do that?" he continued. "It's really not a game I want you playing at right now."

"I'll try." She nodded.

He studied her, then let out a small chorde and shook his head.

They both knew she had no choice in the matter.

She was into it hook, line, and sinker.

Chapter 42

Shifting in his chair in the stark, glass-fronted conference room at Federal Plaza, De Angelis studied Tess Chaykin carefully. A very smart lady, he thought. That much was obvious. Of more concern was that it appeared she was also fearless. It was an intriguing yet potentially dangerous combination. But played correctly, it could also prove to be very useful. She seemed to know which questions to ask and what leads to follow.

Glancing at the others around the table, De Angelis listened to her account of her abduction and her subsequent escape. Discreetly, he gently massaged the place where Vance's bullet had grazed his leg. It stung with a burning twinge, especially when he walked, but the painkillers he was taking dampened the sensation to a point where he hoped any hint of a limp wouldn't be noticeable.