the window curtain drop and fully faced my crew. I looked them each in the eye.
Bergman, his thin shoulders hunched against every fear he’d ever felt or imagined, peered at me through the lenses of his glasses as if they could shield him from whatever reality I might throw at him. Cassandra, with her classic bone structure and clear dark skin, would never look more than twenty-eight. But the weight of centuries of pain and hardship had somehow given her the air of an ancient goddess. Cole gazed at me with a frank acceptance that could become addictive. Vayl stood at my shoulder, not touching me. And yet I felt the solid strength of his support. After having lost it, even briefly, I realized how much it meant to me. That scared me. But not enough to let it go.
I talked to Bergman, though my words were for everyone. “Yes, I’ll kill her if I think she’s a threat. I’d do the same if I thought anyone was a danger to any of you. I learned a hard lesson with my Helsingers. It’s not one I’m going to repeat. I won’t lose another crew member if there’s anything I can do to stop it. And I do mean anything.”
I suddenly imagined Raoul, waiting for me to dream as he lounged on his black leather recliner, overhearing my last words. “Hmm, anything?” He’d take a look at the list he’d made on the legal pad in his lap, jot a couple of notes, turn the page, and begin writing in earnest.
Oh boy
.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I
can’t believe I can’t sleep!” I wanted to punch something. The glass and brick facade of the business I currently walked past seemed a likely candidate, its broad, dirty windows revealing an enormous black machine that looked to have been attacked by men wielding baseball bats. It seemed like a helluva plan, but Vayl’s hand, cool on my neck, deterred me from adding to the destruction.
“This is not helping.”
“I’m just so pissed off!”
He nodded. It had been a god-awful hour. You think your plan is marching along like a band in the field, all the sections moving to their appointed places at the appropriate times. Then somebody falls on his ass and the next thing you know there’s a clarinet player stuck in the sousaphone.
I’d just settled into bed when Cole had come to me with a picture of Delir Kazimi, the house owner. He looked almost exactly like our Wizard photo. But there were differences. A sharpness to the nose and chin. An emptiness in the eyes. This guy I could believe was a three-headed god-worshipping terrorist. His address was in Saudi Arabia, so I went back to Vayl’s room and we called Pete to get the clearance to go after him. Since he couldn’t discuss the deal without his DOD cohorts chiming in, we hung up while he took fifteen minutes to find them. In the meantime I called Evie.
“Hello?” Well, she didn’t sound tearful.
“Evie?”
“Jaz? Where are you?”
“I’m in Germany. My company’s merging with a pharmaceutical firm over here. And when I had a chance to meet with some execs to explain our marketing techniques, I jumped at it. Dave’s on leave, so I’m actually hanging with him right now.”
“That’s wonderful! So you guys are getting along?”
“Pretty well. I mean, we haven’t talked about Jessie at all . . . ” I stopped. If Dave died with that matter still unsettled between us, I’d always regret it. I didn’t think I could ever make him understand I’d done what I had out of love for her. But maybe . . . “Evie, I’m so sorry you’re alone right now.”
“No, Tim and E.J. are here. It’s just, I was really worried about you when I couldn’t find you.” Now the tears. It seemed like every time I called my sister she ended up crying. How do you make up for that?
“I’m sorry.” Nope, that wouldn’t cut it. Try again. “Is there something I can do?”
“Come home.”
Oh crap
.
“Not now,” Evie said, before I could even formulate a decent lie. “As soon as you can. I’ll take care of Dad until then. But here’s when I really need you. Easter is April fourteenth this year, and that’s when Tim and I are getting E.J. baptized. Dad should be well enough to go . . . ”
Or dead
, we both thought, but neither one of us would say it.
“And I need you there with me.”
“Why?”
“You’re her godmother.”
“I am?”
“You said you would.”
“When?”
“When you were ten! Jaz, you promised!”
Oh my God, leave it to Evie to remember a vow I made fifteen years ago. It was probably during one of those rainy days when she’d forced me to play dolls. I could just see her, rocking her Betsy Burps Up while I sat on the floor beside her, looking longingly out the window at my limp and dripping basketball net.
“I’ll be the mommy and you’ll be the godmother just like when we’re grown-ups,” she would’ve said in her
