Countdown - Iris Johansen [1]
“Perhaps.” He glanced through the drawers. “No, some of the clothes have been moved.”
“How can you tell? It looks neat to me.”
“I can tell.” He moved toward the bathroom. The grooming kit was in almost the same position as he’d left it.
Almost.
Shit.
He unzipped the kit. The leather case was still there. It was the same black as the bottom of the kit and might not have been noticed.
“Trevor?”
“I’ll be with you in a minute.” He slowly opened the case and looked down at the articles and then the photo. She was looking up at him from the photo with the challenging stare he knew so well. Perhaps Grozak hadn’t seen it. Perhaps he wouldn’t think it important even if he had.
But could he afford to risk her life on that chance?
He moved quickly to the closet and jerked out the duffel and tore up the support board.
It was gone.
Shit!
Harvard University
Hey, I thought you were going to study for that final.”
Jane glanced up from her sketchbook to see her roommate, Pat Hershey, bounding into the room. “I had to take a break. I was getting too intense to keep a clear head. Sketching relaxes me.”
“So would sleep.” Pat smiled. “And you wouldn’t have had to study so hard if you hadn’t been out half of last night playing nursemaid.”
“Mike needed someone to talk to.” Jane made a face. “He’s scared to death that he’s going to flunk out and disappoint everyone.”
“Then he should be studying instead of crying on your shoulder.”
Jane knew Pat was right, and she’d had moments of exasperation and impatience last night. “He’s used to coming to me with problems. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
“And you’re too soft to send him away now.”
“I’m not soft.”
“Except about people you care about. Look at me. You’ve gotten me out of quite a few jams since we started to room together.”
“Nothing serious.”
“They were serious to me.” She strolled over and glanced at the sketch. “Good God, you’re drawing him again.”
Jane ignored the comment. “Did you have a good run?”
“Upped my distance a mile.” Pat flopped down in the chair and began untying her running shoes. “You should have come with me. It’s no fun for me running alone. I wanted the satisfaction of leaving you in the dust.”
“No time.” Jane finished the sketch in three bold strokes. “I told you, I had to study for my chemistry final.”
“Yeah, that’s what you told me.” Pat grinned as she kicked off her shoes. “But here you are drawing Mr. Wonderful again.”
“Believe me, he’s not wonderful.” She snapped the sketchbook shut. “And he’s definitely not the type of man you’d take home to meet your mom and dad.”
“A black sheep? Exciting.”
“Only on soap operas. In real life they’re big trouble.”
Pat made a face. “You sound like a jaded woman of the world. You’re twenty-one, for God’s sake.”
“I’m not jaded. Jaded is for people who don’t have enough imagination to keep life interesting. But I’ve learned to tell the difference between intriguing and troublesome.”
“I could learn to live with that kind of trouble when it’s packaged so nicely. He’s gorgeous. Sort of a cross between Brad Pitt and Russell Crowe. You must think so too or you wouldn’t keep drawing his face.”
Jane shrugged. “He’s interesting. I find something new in his face every time I draw it. That’s why I use him as a distraction.”
“You know, I really like those sketches. I don’t know why you haven’t done a full portrait of him. It would be much better than the one you did of the old lady that won that prize.”
Jane smiled. “I don’t believe the judges would have agreed with you.”
“Oh, I’m not knocking you. The other portrait was brilliant. But then, you’re always brilliant. You’ll be famous someday.”
Jane made a rude sound. “Maybe if I live to be as old as Grandma Moses. I’m far too practical. I have no artistic temperament.”
“You always make fun of yourself, but I’ve seen you when you’re working. You get lost. . . .” She tilted her head. “I’ve