Pandora's Daughter

'I can take care of myself, Renata.'

'But you care too much. You let people hurt you.'

'Then that's my choice.'

'It's all in how you look at it. Life is made up of different scenarios ready to be triggered by a word, an action. If I'm there to say that word or make that action, then the hurt never happens.'

Megan stared at her in amazement and then she started to laugh. 'My God, that's the most convoluted explanation for being a busybody I've ever heard.'

She tilted her head. 'Really? I can get much more convoluted without even trying.'

'I'm sure you can.' Her smile lingered as she asked, 'Why me? Why choose me to protect?'

'I don't know.' Her tone was suddenly awkward. 'I think… I like you.' She added quickly, 'Of course, it could be that you're family and I've been trained to protect the family.'

'Yes, it could be that,' she said gently. 'But I hope it's not. I don't have many friends, Renata. It would be nice if you turned out to be one.'

Renata looked away. 'We'll have to see, won't we?' She changed the subject. 'What about the Molino call?'

'He was frothing at the mouth when I hung up. I let him think I was a Pandora and a Finder like my mother. He bought it.'

'He thinks freaks are freaks and he doesn't know enough about us.' She paused. 'You could have told him I was the Finder. It would have taken some of the heat off you.'

'It was better if he had a primary focus for all that paranoia. That way you could fade into the shadows. Did the CIA manage to get a possession of Molino's for you to use?'

'Not yet. They're trying his house In Madagascar and it's pretty well protected.'

'Well, I think we can be sure he won't be going back there until he knows I'm dead,' she said dryly.

'Frothing?' Renata repeated with a grin.

'As a mad dog.' She headed for her bedroom. 'With the emphasis on mad. I think he's slipped a few cogs.' She stopped at the door. 'I want to know about Finders, Renata, what to expect. Will you come in and tell me about them?'

Renata nodded. 'Though there's not much to know.' She followed her into the room and dropped down on the window seat. 'You said your mother was a Finder.'

'But I didn't know that until Grady told me. I didn't know anything about her talents.'

'That would feel… odd. I've always known about the family and that most of us have one talent or another, I knew I was a Finder by the time I was seven. I didn't develop any other talents until later.'

'You weren't frightened?'

'Mark wouldn't let me be frightened. My mother was pretty busy and had no time for training, but she sent me to Mark.' She smiled. 'I think he was impatient with dealing with me sometimes until Edmund told him that he'd chosen me as the Keeper for the Ledger. After that he never let me know if I was a bother to him. He knew he had to prepare me.'

And teaching the Keeper of the Ledger was more important than the needs of a little girl.

Renata was smiling at her and shaking her head. 'You're feeling sorry for me. Mark was very good to me. You don't understand.'

'No.' Megan said. 'But I'm trying to do that. Tell me about being a Finder.'

'I'm pretty good at it. Mark thought it was a valuable talent and worked with me.'

'How do you do it?'

'First, you have to have an object belonging to the person you're trying to find. You already know that. The object is generally called the anchor because it's the only thing that keeps you steady once you're on the trail. Then you concentrate and see if you can make a connection.'

'Connection?'

Renata frowned, trying to explain. 'It's kind of a… touching. But most of the time you have to get close enough for the tether to work before you make the connection. Then you reach out and connect and it's like a rope pulling you, leading you. A tether.'

'And that's all?'

She nodded. 'Unless the connection is strong enough to give you a viewing. Sometimes after you make the connection you get a picture of the subject. If you're lucky it can give you a clue and you won't have to entirely depend on the tether to find the subject.'

'But having something belonging to Molino is the key?'

Renata nodded. 'Give me a strong enough object to use as an anchor and I can find anyone.'

'Well, hopefully Venable will be able to deliver one to you soon.' She was silent a moment. 'It really works, Renata?'

'It really does.' Renata smiled. 'I give you my word. If I can go on the hunt right away, there's a chance we may be able to find Molino without dangling you over the fire.' She got to her feet. 'Have I reassured you?'

She nodded. 'Knowledge always helps. I feel as if I'm walking around in the dark.'

'At least, you have company.' She headed toward the door. 'You have the kind of personality that makes people want to share your dark days. Someone will always be there ready to help you, Megan. Grady, Harley, even me.'

She closed the bedroom door behind her.

Megan moved toward the window and stood looking out at the moonlit fields.

Molino was out there somewhere, eaten up with hatred, planning, moving.

How close?

THE PHOTO OF SIENNA AND MOLINO was under her door when she woke the next morning. She experienced a ripple of shock when she saw the picture. She had unconsciously expected a mug shot or passport photo, but this was a shot of the two men together at a bistro table in an outdoor restaurant. They were casually dressed and smiling, two ordinary-looking men in their fifties, relaxing, perhaps on vacation. Grady had arrowed and labeled each man on the fax. Molino was a little heavier, with a hooked nose and a thatch of thick brown hair, sprinkled with gray. He wore an orange-and-brown striped shirt and khakis. Sienna's hazel eyes were slanted and vaguely catlike in his triangular face and his hair was fair and thinning. His shirt and trousers were immaculately tailored and he gave the impression of being ultrafastidious.

She was still staring at the photo when Grady knocked on the door a few minutes later.

'I wanted to make sure you got them first thing,' he said. 'They came in late last night. Surprised?'

'Yes. I probably shouldn't have been. I don't believe it was the fact that they look so ordinary but the photo itself. They're sitting there in the sun, drinking wine, having a good time as if they deserved it. Yes.'

'They don't deserve it.' She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. 'They kill, they torture, they sell little children to beasts that destroy them. If there was justice in the world, they'd be writhing in hell.'

'Sometimes justice takes a long time coming.'

'Then let's hurry it along, dammit. Can't we do something more?'

'Venable is pulling every string he can with the FBI and local law enforcement in Tennessee to try to locate Molino. It takes time.'

'Meanwhile Molino and Sienna are sitting in the sun and living the good life,' she said bitterly.

'Not at the moment.' He smiled. 'I think you stirred him up enough last night to make sure he's not sitting on his duff.'

'Good.'

'And I did hear from ATLPD about the truck belonging to Phillip's attacker. The tires were purchased from National Car Service by credit card.'

'You have a name?' she asked eagerly.

'Tim Darnell. He's a student at Georgia State University. Twenty-two years old, bright, good-looking, no police record.'

'Then it might not be him,' she said, disappointed.

'And it might be. He grew up on a farm in South Georgia and he was crazy about guns and hunting. His parents