Countdown - Iris Johansen [101]
She watched him head toward the cockpit. In the last few moments she had found out more about Trevor than ever before. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Now that she could picture the boy he had been, she wasn’t sure she would be able to look at him without remembering. It made her heart ache for him.
“No.” Trevor was looking over his shoulder, reading her expression. “That’s not what I want from you. Sex, maybe even friendship. But not pity. I’m no Mike, who you had to nurture and protect. You asked a question and I answered because it’s not fair that I know more about you than you do about me. Now we’re even.” He disappeared into the cockpit.
Not exactly even, she thought. He knew a lot about her, but she had never confided anything as intimate and hurtful as the story he had just told her.
Stop it. He didn’t want pity, and she would have hated it herself. As Trevor had said, that was a long time ago and that boy had grown up and grown armor and fangs.
MacDuff met them at the helicopter when it landed at the Run. “A successful trip?”
“Yes and no,” Jane said. “We may have found Cira.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“There’s a reconstruction in a museum in Naples that resembles her. Her skeleton was found at the marina. Along with a pouch of gold coins.”
“Interesting.”
Interested wasn’t the description she’d give for his expression, Jane thought. He appeared wary, intent, and she could almost hear the thought processes clicking behind that face.
“How close a resemblance?” he asked.
“Close enough to mistake for Cira at first glance,” Trevor said. “Or so Jane said. I wasn’t privy to the viewing. The reconstruction on exhibition was the counterfeit done by Eve four years ago.”
“But according to the news stories and the photo taken of that reconstruction, it looked nothing like—” He stopped. “She faked it?”
“She thought it was for my own good,” Jane said defensively. “She would never have— Why am I explaining anything to you?”
“I have no idea,” MacDuff said. “I’m sure she had good reasons for what she did.” He paused. “How close a resemblance?”
“As Trevor said, at first glance . . .” She shrugged. “But the features are cruder; there are subtle differences. I’m not going to believe it’s Cira. Not yet.”
“It’s always best to take every new fact with a grain of salt,” MacDuff said. “Don’t just jump in with both feet until you’ve explored all possibilities.”
“And if the chest of gold was hidden in the marina, it’s going to make retrieval tough,” Trevor said.
MacDuff nodded. “Almost impossible, considering the time factor.” His gaze shifted back to Jane. “And you believe the gold might be there?”
“I don’t know. The gold coins . . . I don’t want to believe it, but I’m afraid not to. As you said, the time factor.
“How is Jock?” Jane asked.
“The same. Not good. But not worse.” He hesitated. “Or maybe not the same. I have a feeling something weird’s going on in his head.” He turned and headed for the stable. “At any rate, I’m keeping an eye on him.”
“He seems distinctly skeptical,” Jane said to Trevor as she started for the front door. “Since it’s the first solid clue we have to Cira, I’m a little surprised.”
“It’s probably not solid enough for him. He doesn’t want us to waste time on long shots. He wants Reilly.”
“No more than we do.” She opened the door. “I’m going to go up and check on Mario. I’ll see you later.”
“Where?”
She looked at him.
“Your bed or mine?”
“Pushy.”
“I’ve learned you never take a step back if you’ve made a successful advance. And last night was damn successful.”
Successful wasn’t the word. And just looking at him brought back the eroticism of those hours. “Maybe we should slow down.”
He shook his head.
Why was she being so hesitant? It wasn’t like her. She was usually bold and decisive.
Because it had been too good. There had been times when she had lost control, and that had frightened her. Get over it. She had slept with him because she had realized how fragile life could be and she didn’t want to miss one instant of