She touched the bandages on her face. "And these?"

"I did some minor surgery around the eyes, but those stitches will be ready to be removed any day now."

"What is this on my face? I talk funny."

"You have a brace to keep your jaws aligned. You'll soon be able to do without it. There's still bruising, but I could take the bandages off now and you'd get an idea what you'll look like."

"No, it doesn't matter. I'll wait. I just wanted to know how long before I'll be released. A month?"

"Maybe. If all goes well and you do what I tell you."

"I will." She paused, steeling herself. "I wonder if I could see a copy of the newspapers that came out the day after ... Medas."

His smile faded. "I don't think that would be wise. Wait awhile."

"I've waited too long already. I have to face it sometime. I promise I won't fall apart."

He studied her a moment. "I don't believe you will. All right, I'll dig one up and have it brought to you. Anything else?"

"No, you've been very kind, Dr. Lieber."

"Joel," he corrected her.

"I promise I won't trouble you much longer, Joel."

"You're troubling me now," he muttered. "I'm sorry." Her regret was genuine. He seemed a decent man and he had worked very hard to help her. Unfortunately, he was also perceptive and could sense the remoteness that pervaded every cell of her body. Well, she could do nothing about that. "But I'll be well soon, and then you won't have to bother with me."

"I hope so." He stared at her a moment before turning and leaving the room.

Terrorists.

Nell lowered the newspaper and stared at the cream and peach striped wall. It made sense. No one would want to kill Richard or the others mentioned in the article. They must have been after Kavinski.

But why seek her out? Why would one of the terrorists attack her, when she had not even been near Kavinski? Jill's death might have been done spur-of-the-moment, but that murderer must have come after Nell.

He never makes it easy.

Tanek had spoken as if he knew the man who had killed Jill.

And if he knew who he was, he might know where he could be found.

"Where the hell have you been?" Joel said as soon as Nicholas picked up the phone. "I've been trying to reach you for the last month."

"I've been out of the country." Nicholas reached down and stroked Sam's ears. The German shepherd rubbed against his thigh.

"She wants to see you," Joel said. "Right away."

"That's a surprise. How is she?"

"Making amazing progress. She's been eating, talking to Johnson. She even got him to get her some exercise bands and she's been working on her legs and her good arm."

"Then why do you sound so peevish?"

"Peevish? I'm not peevish. Great men are never peevish."

"Sorry. Why are you concerned?"

"She's too controlled. Too remote."

"Perhaps that's best during this period. At least her health is improving."

"By leaps and bounds, and so is her determination. She's like an arrow released from a bow. It won't go anywhere but toward the bull's-eye."

"And where's the bull's-eye?"

"You tell me." He paused. "What did you say to her?"

"I gave her a purpose."

"What purpose?"

"Revenge."

"Christ."

"I had to work with what I had. I assure you I wouldn't have managed to rouse her if I'd tried to inspire her to be a brain surgeon. Revenge was the only motive that would have worked."

"And what happens now?"

"Now you divert her. Perhaps you're exaggerating the problem. She's a nice, gentle woman. Find a way to appeal to her basic nature."

"I don't think you have any idea what her basic nature is. She's sure as hell not how you described her to me." He hesitated a moment. "The first day after you left, she asked for the newspaper account of Medas."

"Did it upset her?"

"Yes. Johnson said she was pale and shaking but she was still in control. That's when she asked to see you. She's asked to see you every day since then. I think, if you don't come to see her, she'll be on your doorstep the minute she's released."

"Then I suppose I'd better get back there. Sam doesn't like visitors."

"How's his leg?"

"Stronger than ever."

"Sometimes it happens like that. You break someone and put them back together and find you have a completely new person. I'll tell her you'll be here tomorrow."

Joel's warning wasn't necessary. Nicholas had known the risk he ran. There had just been no other option. You couldn't sear and not have scars. Nicholas replaced the phone and sat down in the leather mission chair. Sam promptly tried to crawl onto his lap. Nicholas absently patted his head before pushing him down. The dog gave him a resigned look and curled up at his feet.

And there was more searing to come if he couldn't ward her off, he thought wearily. He just hoped to God he wasn't the one who had to do it.

Here we go down, down, down ...

No!

Nell jerked upright in bed, her heart beating wildly.

It had been a dream. Only a dream.

Jill hadn't been there at the door, staring at her....

She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.

Please, don't let it come again. She couldn't bear it.

Don't let it come again.

Four.

"You wanted to see me?"

Nell looked up to see Tanek standing in the doorway. She felt a stirring of anger she had difficulty suppressing. She would suppress it. She said curtly, "Come in."

He came toward her. He was wearing jeans and a cream-colored sweatshirt, and they looked as natural on him as the tuxedo when she had first met him. You would always notice Tanek and not his clothes.

He dropped down in the chair beside her bed. "I thought you'd be rid of those bandages by now."

"Day after tomorrow. The brace is gone, but Joel wanted the stitches to be healed first." She went on the attack. "You know the man who killed Jill, don't you?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I thought you might pick up on that. Yes, I think I know who he is."

"Are you a terrorist?"

A smile tugged at his lips. "If I were, do you think I'd admit it?"

"No, but I thought I might get a response."

He nodded. "Very good."

She didn't want his approval, she wanted answers. "I don't think it was a terrorist attack at all."

"Really? Everyone else seems to think so."

"I wasn't in the ballroom. Why would a terrorist come after me?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why would anyone come after you?"

"I don't know." She gazed at him challengingly. "Do you?"

"Perhaps you offended Gardeaux."

She looked at him in bewilderment. "Gardeaux? Who's Gardeaux?"

She hadn't realized he was tense until she saw him relax. "A very unpleasant individual. I'm glad you don't know him."

He had thrown out the name to see her response, she realized. Gardeaux. She stored the name in her memory. "Why did you insist on going with me to my room that night? Was it to make sure that the murderer would know where I could be found?"

"No, I imagine he had a complete diagram of the house and knew who was in every room before he reached the island." He met her gaze. "And the last thing I wanted was to have you hurt or killed."

She had to tear her gaze away. He was willing her to believe him, and that will was very strong. But she shouldn't believe him. She should suspect everyone, particularly him. "Who killed my daughter?"

"I believe it was a man named Paul Maritz."

"Then why haven't you told the police?"

"They're satisfied that it was a terrorist attack aimed at Kavinski."

"And this Maritz isn't a terrorist?"

He shook his head. "He works for Philippe Gardeaux. But the police won't go after Maritz for killing your daughter."

Gardeaux again. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about, or are you going to make me pull it out of you?"

He smiled faintly. "You were doing so well, I thought I'd let you go for a while. Gardeaux is a distributor. He's the direct link between Europe and the Middle East, for a division of the Colombian drug cartel headed by Ramon Sandequez, Julio Paloma, and Miguel Juarez."

"Distributor?"

"He distributes drugs to dealers and money to smooth the way. Maritz is one of his people."

"And Gardeaux sent Maritz to kill me? Why Jill?"

"She got in his way."

Such a simple sentence. A child was in the way, so she was killed.

His gaze was on her face. "Are you okay?"

Her composure went up in flames. "No, I'm not okay." Her eyes blazed up at him. "I'm angry and sick and I want him dead."

"I thought you would."

"And you say the law won't even try to convict him?"