Countdown - Iris Johansen [13]
“Maybe he’s already found it.”
“Maybe.” Jane had often wondered that same thing, but she had still kept searching. “But I have a feeling . . . I don’t know. I have to keep looking. Dammit, I should be the one to find those scrolls. I deserve it. I’m the one who had that crazy after me trying to slice off my face because I looked like Cira.”
“Then why didn’t you tackle Trevor and get him to tell you where they were?”
“Persuading Trevor to do anything is never an option. He wants the gold, and he believes he deserves it after he lost his friend Pietro in that tunnel. Besides, how was I supposed to find him when Interpol couldn’t keep track of him?”
“I rather thought he might have contacted you when you were over there.”
“No.” On Jane’s first expedition she had fought that irrational thought for the entire time she was in Herculaneum. She had found herself looking over her shoulder, remembering Trevor’s voice, fighting the feeling that he was around the corner, in the next room, somewhere—near. “It’s not likely that he’d stay in touch. I was only seventeen and he thought I was too young to be interesting.”
“Seventeen going on thirty,” Eve said. “And Trevor was no fool.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Nothing Trevor would do would surprise me. He was one of a kind.”
Eve’s tone was almost affectionate, Jane realized. “You liked him.”
“He saved my life. He saved Joe. He saved you. It’s hard to dislike a man who’s stacked up that kind of credit. That doesn’t mean I approve of him. His intelligence may be off the charts, and he definitely has a way about him. But he’s a smuggler, a con man, and God knows what else.”
“What else indeed? He’s had four years to get into all kinds of nefarious pursuits.”
“At least you’re not defending him.”
“No way. He’s probably the most brilliant man I’ve ever met and could coax the birds from the trees. Other than that, he’s an enigma, he’s proficient in all manner of violence, and he has an addiction to walking a tightrope. None of those qualities tend to endear themselves to a hardheaded, practical woman like me.”
“Woman . . .” Eve sadly shook her head. “I still think of you as a girl.”
“Then that’s what I’ll stay.” Jane leaned her head against Eve’s shoulder. “Whatever you want me to be. You name it.”
“I just want you to be happy.” She brushed her lips against Jane’s forehead. “And not waste your life chasing after a woman who’s been dead two thousand years.”
“I won’t waste my life. I just have to have my questions answered before I can walk away.”
Eve was silent a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was wrong to want to bury the past. Maybe it would have been healthier to just let you go for it.”
“Stop blaming yourself. You never said a word to me when I went back to Herculaneum.”
Eve stared out at the lake. “No, I never said a word to you.”
“And it’s not as if I’m devoting all my time to Cira. I’ve won a couple art competitions, I’ve gone on several search-and-rescue missions with Sarah, and I’ve kept my grades up.” She looked up with a smile. “And I haven’t been toying with gorgeous ne’er-do-wells like Mark Trevor. I’m golden.”
“Yes, you are.” Eve straightened and rose to her feet. “And I want to keep you that way. We’ll talk more after this funeral is over.” She headed for the door. “We’d both better get some sleep. I told Sandra we’d pick her up at eleven.”
“I’ll come in soon. I want to stay out here with Toby for a while.” She gave the dog a hug. “Lord, I miss him when I’m at school.” She paused.