Countdown - Iris Johansen [78]
“So you went after Reilly. Could Jock tell you anything about him?”
“Not much. Every time he’d start to remember he’d go into convulsions and start screaming with pain. A little posthypnotic gift from Reilly. He’s getting better, but I haven’t tried since that first month. I’m waiting for him to heal. If he ever does.”
“And you’re teaming up with Trevor instead. Why?”
“I’m one of the people who Dupoi notified when he was trying to double-cross Trevor. Everyone in Herculaneum knew I was interested, and he thought I might have enough money to make the bidding interesting.” He grimaced. “Wrong. But I learned enough about Trevor and his background from Dupoi to know that he could have the same goals I did—and the contacts to find Reilly.” He stared her directly in the eye. “Are you afraid to be around Jock now?”
She looked back at Jock. “A little.”
“Then I’ve blown it. I thought you might understand.”
“It’s hard to understand twenty-two murders.”
“If he’d been an assassin for your government, you’d accept it. In some circles he’d be a hero.”
“You know that argument doesn’t wash. I feel sorry for him, but there’s no way I can understand how Reilly could twist him like that.” She squared her shoulders. “So I won’t try. I’ll accept that it happened and go on from there.”
“But in what direction? Are you going to abandon him?”
“Damn you. He’s not my problem.” What was she going to do? Jock had touched and haunted her from the moment she had seen him. The story of horror had shocked her but had also made her heart ache for the boy. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” But whatever she decided to do, she had to confront it. She strode across the Run toward Jock.
His gaze was on her face as she went toward him. “He told you about me, didn’t he? You’re going to tell me you don’t want to draw me anymore.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m ugly,” he said simply. “You see it now, don’t you?”
Oh, hell. She could feel that aching pity begin again. “You’re not ugly. You just did ugly things. But you won’t do them again.”
“Maybe I will. He said it’s what I am. That I can’t do anything else.”
“Reilly?”
“Sometimes I’m sure he’s right. It’s so easy. I don’t have to think.”
“He’s not right. MacDuff will tell you that.”
He nodded. “He always does.”
“And I’m telling you too.” She looked him in the eye. “So stop talking foolish and get on to forgetting that bastard.” She turned away. “And meet me in the courtyard in an hour. I have to finish that sketch.”
It was only a small commitment and she could still back away. She glanced over her shoulder as she reached the path. MacDuff had come to sit beside Jock on the rock and he was frowning, talking fast and low to the boy. Jock was nodding, but his gaze was still fixed on Jane.
And then he smiled. A smile full of sadness and acceptance and, dammit, hope.
She sighed. Caught.
Were you followed?” Reilly asked Chad Norton when he delivered the package to him.
“No. I was careful, but there wasn’t anyone following and I checked the box out for tracking devices. It’s safe.” Norton was looking at him hopefully, waiting for praise.
Should he give it to him? Praise or condemnation. It was always a delicate balance with the subjects he kept close to him for daily labor. You would have thought it would be easier, but propinquity had a habit of dulling the command effect. Perhaps a mix in this case. “You took too long. You kept me waiting.”
Norton stiffened and Reilly could see the panic begin. “I tried to be quick. I was afraid to speed. You told me to be sure and not attract attention.”
“I didn’t tell you to take half the day.” It was enough, the sting of the whip; now rub in a soothing unguent. He smiled at Norton. “But I’m sure you were only being careful because you wanted to keep me secure. On the whole you did well.”
He could see the relief in Norton’s expression. “I tried. I always try.” He paused. “Better than Gavin?”
Reilly’s brows lifted. “Kim’s been talking.”
Norton shook his head. “She only said that I’d never be as good as— She