Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [77]
“I will.” Then Eve called after her resignedly, “Okay, dammit, I'll call him back right away.”
A radiant smile lit Jane's face. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome. But don't you dare think you're manipulating me.”
Jane shook her head. “Never.” The door slammed behind her and she plopped down on the top step. At last things were beginning to happen. Not fast enough. But there was movement and action that gave her hope. She'd be happier if she could participate in that action but she could wait.
Maybe.
“Have you heard from Trevor?” Bartlett called from the path.
“No, have you?”
Bartlett shook his head. “I didn't expect it. When he gets in motion he's like a whirlwind. It's easy for him to forget me.”
“Then why did you think he'd call me?”
“Because he thinks about you all the time. You don't forget what's always with you.”
Jane made a face. “He thinks about Aldo, not me.”
Bartlett smiled. “Perhaps you're right. I've been wrong before.” He moved down the path. “But do tell me when he calls, won't you?”
If he called, Jane thought crossly. He'd promised her a call every night and he'd already broken his promise. Okay, he'd been busy and that activity had yielded rich fruit. But a promise was a promise and she was feeling strangely lonely. She'd not realized how much she'd become accustomed to the sight of him moving around the grounds, bringing her the mail in the evening, waving casually at her while he was speaking to Singer or Joe. He'd become a part of the pattern of her life and the pattern was now broken.
And it was a good thing. She didn't need any patterns that contained an erratic force like Trevor. Face it, her body seemed to respond the moment he came into view. She wasn't ignorant. She knew it was only sexual attraction but it was new to her and she wasn't sure how to handle it. He was too disturbing.
But one side of her nature liked the disturbance. The conflict was a challenge and similar to the way she'd felt when she was training Toby. Every moment an adventure, full of laughter and minor catastrophes. She found herself smiling. Trevor wouldn't be flattered at the comparison with her dog, and there was no way he'd tolerate training. Not that she'd want to get close enough to him to make the—
Her phone rang.
“Did you see the insert?” Trevor asked.
Her heart leaped and she had to steady her voice. “Yes. Why wasn't it in the English paper?”
“God, you're tough.” His tone was testy. “Give me another twenty-four hours. I have to be more careful with the English press. Unless you want it in the Sun. They'd have no problem if the story was sensational enough.”
“Aldo reads the Times, not the Sun.”
“I was joking.”
“Oh.” She paused. “You did very well.”
“She said with faint praise.”
“You don't want my praise.”
“Who said? I like stroking as much as anyone else. And since I'm limited to verbal in your case, I might as well take advantage of it.” He continued on before she could answer, “Out of line. Forget I said it. Has Eve contacted Ted Carpenter?”
“Not yet. He's in Guyana and hasn't returned her call. She's placing another call.” She stood up. “She might be finished by now. I'll go in the house and check.”
“You're on the porch?”
“Yes, why do you want to know?”
“I'm a long way from there and surrounded by ruins and hucksters hawking their wares. It's nice to be able to picture you by the lake. Clean . . .”
She felt that sudden strange warmth that was becoming too familiar surge through her, and said quickly, “Eve's off the phone. Do you want to speak to her?”
“Yes.”
“Eve.” Jane handed her the phone. “Trevor.”
Eve gave her a curious glance before she spoke into the phone. “I just hung up from talking to Ted. He says the man we need to talk to is Professor Herbert Sontag. He's been excavating Herculaneum for the past fifteen years and is well-known and respected by the Italian government. He's got his own little kingdom going there and is probably the only man who could pull off what we need done. Ted's met him