you do. You remember everything, the bad and the good. And the bad doesn't hurt you where you are, does it? But it does hurt you when you go to sleep. If you'd come back to us, the dreams will stop, Cassie. It will take a little time, but they'll go away."
She could sense that Cassie was beginning to tense again.
"No one's going to make you come back until you want to do it. Someday you'll be ready and I'll be here to help you." She added softly, "I know the way, Cassie. Mellie and I traveled the same road. I wonder where you are. When Mellie came back, she said it was like being in a deep, dark forest with a canopy of trees overhead. But some other children who have gone away say they went to a nice cozy cave. Is that where you are?"
No response.
"Oh, well, you'll tell me when you come back. I'm a little tired, do you mind if I just rest a little until your daddy gets here?" Dear God, she was weary of questions. Answer me just once, sweetheart. She closed her eyes. "If you want to sleep, go ahead. I'm here. I'll wake you if the bad dreams come."
Paris
Gleaming emerald eyes, teeth bared to tear into him 1 .
Edward bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding. He was drenched with sweat.
Only a dream.
How ridiculous to become so upset that he was actually dreaming about the statue. It had to be the humiliation he had experienced at Vasaro.
Not his fault. The plan had been perfect. If it hadn't been for Michael Travis, he would have had the child. How had the son of a bitch known about the raid? There had to have been a leak. He would find it and then he would find Michael Travis and blow the bastard's brains out.
Wide awake now, he decided to go to the room. Just the thought of it was bringing him peace.
He got up and made his way downstairs. The intricately carved door gleamed richly in the soft light. And once inside the room he would be able to relegate the small failure at Vasaro to the back of his mind, where it belonged. There was no question that he would persevere and get what he wanted soon.
Including the death of Michael Travis.
Georgetown
"Where the hell is Michael Travis?" Andreas demanded when Ben Danley got into the limousine. "It's been eight months. How long does it take the CIA to find one man?"
"We're close." Danley sank down in the seat across from Andreas. "We've trailed him to Amsterdam. You don't understand, Mr. President. He's been mixing with the criminal underground since he was born. His father was a thief and a smuggler and he was brought up all over Europe and Asia. He has contacts that-"
"So you've told me." And Andreas didn't want to hear it again. He wanted Travis and no excuses.
"I'm only trying to explain that he moves in circles that leave few tracks. We expect to locate him within two days." He paused. "You haven't told us what to do when we do find him, sir."
Andreas turned to look at him.
"Do you wish him to have…an accident, Mr. President?"
Andreas smiled sardonically. "Why, Danley, you know the CIA no longer does sanctions. You've cleaned up your image."
"I didn't say we'd do it," Danley said. "I merely asked if that was your wish."
"Very cagey."
"It's a natural question. If Travis is the man behind Vasaro, I can see why-"
"Travis wasn't behind it. I don't want him hurt," Andreas interrupted. "And you don't know jack about what happened at Vasaro."
"Your pardon, sir, but naturally Keller at the Secret Service shared his files with us since the attempt on your life was made outside the U.S."
"It wasn't Travis."
"Then why have we spent eight months searching for him?"
"Because I told you to." He looked out the window at the darkness. "And I wanted you to have a damn good reason to find him. What did Keller tell you?"
"That there was an attempt on your life and the nurse and six men had been killed and three wounded. Fortunately, you and the First Lady had gone to Paris."
"Fortunately?" His tone was biting. "Do you realize that my daughter hasn't spoken a
She could sense that Cassie was beginning to tense again.
"No one's going to make you come back until you want to do it. Someday you'll be ready and I'll be here to help you." She added softly, "I know the way, Cassie. Mellie and I traveled the same road. I wonder where you are. When Mellie came back, she said it was like being in a deep, dark forest with a canopy of trees overhead. But some other children who have gone away say they went to a nice cozy cave. Is that where you are?"
No response.
"Oh, well, you'll tell me when you come back. I'm a little tired, do you mind if I just rest a little until your daddy gets here?" Dear God, she was weary of questions. Answer me just once, sweetheart. She closed her eyes. "If you want to sleep, go ahead. I'm here. I'll wake you if the bad dreams come."
Paris
Gleaming emerald eyes, teeth bared to tear into him 1 .
Edward bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding. He was drenched with sweat.
Only a dream.
How ridiculous to become so upset that he was actually dreaming about the statue. It had to be the humiliation he had experienced at Vasaro.
Not his fault. The plan had been perfect. If it hadn't been for Michael Travis, he would have had the child. How had the son of a bitch known about the raid? There had to have been a leak. He would find it and then he would find Michael Travis and blow the bastard's brains out.
Wide awake now, he decided to go to the room. Just the thought of it was bringing him peace.
He got up and made his way downstairs. The intricately carved door gleamed richly in the soft light. And once inside the room he would be able to relegate the small failure at Vasaro to the back of his mind, where it belonged. There was no question that he would persevere and get what he wanted soon.
Including the death of Michael Travis.
Georgetown
"Where the hell is Michael Travis?" Andreas demanded when Ben Danley got into the limousine. "It's been eight months. How long does it take the CIA to find one man?"
"We're close." Danley sank down in the seat across from Andreas. "We've trailed him to Amsterdam. You don't understand, Mr. President. He's been mixing with the criminal underground since he was born. His father was a thief and a smuggler and he was brought up all over Europe and Asia. He has contacts that-"
"So you've told me." And Andreas didn't want to hear it again. He wanted Travis and no excuses.
"I'm only trying to explain that he moves in circles that leave few tracks. We expect to locate him within two days." He paused. "You haven't told us what to do when we do find him, sir."
Andreas turned to look at him.
"Do you wish him to have…an accident, Mr. President?"
Andreas smiled sardonically. "Why, Danley, you know the CIA no longer does sanctions. You've cleaned up your image."
"I didn't say we'd do it," Danley said. "I merely asked if that was your wish."
"Very cagey."
"It's a natural question. If Travis is the man behind Vasaro, I can see why-"
"Travis wasn't behind it. I don't want him hurt," Andreas interrupted. "And you don't know jack about what happened at Vasaro."
"Your pardon, sir, but naturally Keller at the Secret Service shared his files with us since the attempt on your life was made outside the U.S."
"It wasn't Travis."
"Then why have we spent eight months searching for him?"
"Because I told you to." He looked out the window at the darkness. "And I wanted you to have a damn good reason to find him. What did Keller tell you?"
"That there was an attempt on your life and the nurse and six men had been killed and three wounded. Fortunately, you and the First Lady had gone to Paris."
"Fortunately?" His tone was biting. "Do you realize that my daughter hasn't spoken a
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