Countdown - Iris Johansen [59]
Jock is going to meet us at the fountain,” MacDuff said as he crossed the courtyard toward Jane. “If that’s all right with you?”
“I don’t care.” She sat down on the rim of the fountain and opened her sketchbook. “When is he coming?”
“In a few minutes. He’s watering his plants.” He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Sketching you. I hate wasting time.” Her pencil was moving rapidly over the page. “You’ve got a very interesting face. All hard lines, except for the mouth. . . .” She added a few lines to the cheekbones. “I knew you reminded me of someone. Did you ever see that TV program Highlander?”
“No, I was spared that.”
“You look like the actor who plays the lead.”
“Oh, God.”
“He was very good.” She smiled slyly, wondering how far she could take this. “And pretty, very pretty.”
He didn’t rise to the bait. “Jock is the one who you’re supposed to be sketching.”
“I’m loosening up. It’s like stretching before you run.” She paused. “By the way, Trevor took me to the Run last night.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, of course, Trevor said you had your people all over the castle.” Her gaze fastened on the sketch. “It must be difficult having to lease out this place. I grew up in the streets, and there’s never been a place I could really call mine. But for a few minutes last night I could imagine what it must be like.” She raised her eyes from the pad. “I believe Trevor could too. That’s why he likes the Run so much.”
He shrugged. “Then he’d better enjoy it while he can. I’m taking it back.”
“How?”
“Any way I can.”
“But Trevor said your family couldn’t afford not to rent out the place.”
“Then that’s the way to get it back, isn’t it?”
“With Cira’s gold?”
“The gold seems to be the goal for all of us. Why should I be any different?”
“Then that’s why you’re concerned about Grozak?”
“What did Trevor say?”
“He said to ask you.”
He smiled faintly. “I’m glad he kept his word.”
“I’m not. I want to know how you’re involved. Is it just the gold?”
He didn’t answer directly. “The gold should be enough to motivate any man, especially a man who needs money as desperately as I do.” His gaze went beyond her shoulder. “Here comes Jock.” He made a face. “Try to refrain from calling me names while he’s around. It will be healthier for all of us.”
She turned to see the boy coming toward them. He was smiling and there was a hint of eagerness in his expression. Lord, that face . . . She automatically turned the page of her sketchbook. “Good morning, Jock. Did you sleep well?”
“No. I have dreams. Do you have dreams, Jane?”
“Sometimes.” She began to sketch. Could she catch the haunted expression that lingered behind that smile? And did she want to? The vulnerability of the boy was almost tangible, and capturing it seemed an intrusion. “Bad dreams?”
“Not as bad as they were.” He was looking at MacDuff, and the devotion in his expression made her shake her head in amazement. “They’re getting better, sir. Honestly.”
“They’d better be,” MacDuff said gruffly. “I told you it’s only a question of will. Use it.” He sat down on the rim of the fountain. “Now stop yammering at me and let the woman sketch you.”
“Yes, sir.” Jock looked at Jane. “What do I do?”
“Nothing.” She looked down at the pad. “Be natural. Talk to me. Tell me about your flowers. . . .”
Good morning,” Jane said as she carried a tray into Mario’s study. “How are you today?” She shook her head as she saw the pile of papers on his desk. “I’d say you either worked late or started early. Whichever it is, you can use a break for a cup of coffee and some toast.”
He nodded. “Thank you. Actually, I didn’t get much sleep last night and I’ve probably had too much coffee already.” He reached for the carafe. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have some more.”
She studied him. “You’re wired.”
“It’s getting interesting again.” He took a drink of his coffee. “There are hours and hours of just painstaking deciphering and then it starts to open up for me.” He smiled eagerly. “Like the curtain swinging open in a theater when the play