Behind Closed Doors

She wasn't touching that one. Not with a ten-foot pole. She kept her mouth shut and concentrated on inhabiting her world, not his.

He chuckled and placed the picture back on the credenza. “No one has had the nerve to tell me that in years. How refreshing.”

“Mr. Lazar... the letters?” she reminded him. “The ferry will be here soon, and I—”

“You are welcome to stay here tonight, if you wish.”

Her skin crawled at me thought of a whole night at Stone Island with no one but Victor for company. “I wouldn't, ah, want to put your staff to any extra trouble.”

He shrugged. “My staff exists to be troubled.”

Your world, not his, she repeated to herself, with a deep, calming breath. “I would prefer to go home tonight”

He nodded. “Good night, then.”

She was bewildered. “And the dictation?”

He gave her a charming smile. “Another day.”

The man at the marina flashed through her mind. “Oh, yes. Mr. Lazar, I met a man this morning who gave me a message for you.”

His smile hardened. “Yes?”

“He was a well-dressed blond man in his thirties. He wouldn't tell me his name. He was missing a forefinger on his right hand.”

“I know who he was,” Victor said curtly. “The message?”

“He said to tell you that the opening bid had doubled.”

The humor and charm that animated Victor's face was gone. Beneath it was cold, hard steel. “Nothing more?”

She shook her head. “Who was he?” she asked tentatively.

“The less you know, the healthier you will be.” In the fading light, he looked suddenly older. “Do not encourage this man, Raine. Avoid him in every way possible if you should see him again.”

“You don't have to tell me,” she said fervently. “Ah. You have good instincts, then.” He patted her shoulder. “Trust them. With trust, they grow stronger.” He picked up the frog glasses, turning them over in his hands. “Another thing. Take these.”

“Oh, no, please.” She backed away, alarmed. “They're a memento of your niece. I couldn't possibly—”

He pushed the glasses into her hand, closing her fingers around them. “You would be doing me a service. Life marches on, there is no stopping it. It is very important to be willing to let go of the past, no?”

“Ah... yes, I suppose so,” she whispered. She stared down at the glasses, afraid that the strange panic would seize her again.

They lay quiet in her hand. Cool, inanimate plastic.

“Good night, Raine.”

It was a clear dismissal. She hurried out of the room. God forbid that the boat leave her here, stranded on an island full of ghosts.

She thought about Victor's cryptic words on the ferry, with icy wind whipping through her hair. Let go of the past. Hah. Her hand dug into her pocket and closed around the frog glasses. As if she hadn't tried. As if it were that easy. Her life got more complicated by the day. Now she had the mysterious blond man to watch out for, as well as Victor.

And then there was Seth Mackey. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the railing. She shouldn't get involved with Seth. He was a wild card, strong and restless and arrogant. He could derail her. But he countered the sad, lonely chill Stone Island had given her. He was a roaring furnace of life-giving heat She craved it, even if it burned her.

Her heart hurt when she thought of the halting, bare- bones story he had told her of his mother's death. She ached for the pain he'd tried so awkwardly to gloss over. It made her furious. She wanted to punish anyone who had ever hurt or neglected him, to protect the innocent little boy he had once been. Tears sprang into her eyes. She thought of Victor's long-ago words at the dock.

Toughen up, Katya. The world is not kind to crybabies.

All her life she had tried to follow Victor's hard advice. She was finally realizing the truth. The world was not just unkind to crybabies. The world was unkind to everybody.

She blinked as the wind blew the tears out of the corners of her eyes, mourning for all that foolish, wasted effort at self-control. The lights on the shore melted and swam into a soft wash of color. So did something inside her chest that had been brittle and frosted for years. She let it melt, with a dawning sense of wonder. More tears slipped out, and she let them fall. She might as well cry. It didn't necessarily mean that she was weak. It meant that her heart wasn't dead.

And that was good news.

He was going to kill them. Both of them. Then he was going to kick his own ass, hard, for having been stupid enough to collaborate with such dickheads as the McCloud brothers.

Connor stopped limping up and down the room, and flopped into a chair with a disgusted sigh. “Get over it, Mackey. She's the best bait we're ever going to find. You saw the tape. You heard them talk. He wants her. We could wrap this up quicker than we thought if—”

“She froze him out He may never approach her again.”

Davy McCloud grunted and crossed his long legs. “Nah. Not Novak. Now he probably wants to teach her a lesson.”

Seth’s stomach rolled. “That's why she's leaving town. First plane to anywhere out of SeaTac tonight.”

The two brothers exchanged long, knowing looks. “Oh yeah?” Davy asked. “Gonna tell her everything?”

Seth spun around in the chair, and rubbed his reddened eyes. His mind swam with grisly images of what that man had done to Jesse before he killed him. He couldn't stop the images, couldn't block them. Couldn't let Novak get his hands on Raine. Couldn't.

“Look at it this way,” Connor said, in the voice of one trying to reason with a lunatic. “She's bait whether we use her or not. Now you have a God-given excuse for sticking to that chick like glue. It's all you ever wanted to do, so get into it, already. Enjoy it.”

“No. I want her out,” Seth repeated. “It’s too dangerous.”

Connor shook his head. “You can't pull her out of this without ripping out all the stitches, Seth,” he said gently. “Don't fall apart on me. I need your techno magic to pull this off.”

“Do not condescend to me, McCloud,” he snarled.

Connor just stared at him, his pale gaze calm and unnerving.

He hated admitting he was wrong. It made his jaw hurt. He closed his eyes and tried to organize his thoughts. “I have to be right on top of her. Guarding her” he conceded grimly. “Not just tailing.”

The two brothers exchanged long, silent looks, and Seth turned away. It reminded him too much of Jesse. Not that there had ever been much silence when Jesse was around. Jesse had never shut up.

God, he was so angry. At the McCloud brothers for still having each other when his brother was dead. At Jesse for getting himself killed like an idiot. At Raine, for getting herself mixed up in this fucking snakepit when she obviously didn't know enough to come in out of the rain.

What maddened him most of all was the image of Jesse in the back of his mind, doubled over laughing. One would think that the ungrateful little jerk would appreciate his big brother's efforts to avenge him. But no. In death, as in life, Jesse just had to be original.

He opened up one of the black plastic cases full of Kearn's gizmos. He grabbed a cell phone, pried it open, and started messing with it. “What are you doing?” Davy asked

He sifted through the transmitters in the case. “Putting together a present for my new girlfriend,” he said. “A cell phone with a Colbit beacon in it. I'll dust the rest of her stuff, too. I want to know where she is at all times, when I'm not with her. Which won't be often.”

Davy looked thoughtful. “Novak's less likely to make a move if you're always lurking around.”

“Tough shit” he snarled. “Whenever I'm not with her, one of you guys will be watching. Armed and ready to kick ass. Is that clear? Now get out. I can't concentrate with you guys breathing down my neck.”

Davy nodded in farewell and slouched his tall body out the short door frame. Connor started to follow, but he