On The Run (4 page)

North nodded. “Martin Stiller was a complete charmer and he evidently loved her and was good to her.” He added sarcastically, “Not good enough to give her up and send her to live with her maternal grandfather in Melbourne, Australia. She spent her summers with him on his horse farm, but every fall Stiller was there, picking her up and taking her back to whatever hellhole he was living in at the time.”

“And how did he come to our attention?”

“He came to us and peddled us some information about Hussein. It turned out to be legitimate and we used him for the next few years. We suspected he was double-dealing but we couldn’t prove it. So we were just careful what information we gave him.”

“And the woman?”

“She wasn’t much more than a kid at the time. Agent Rader was the contact with Martin Stiller, and he said Stiller’s daughter was a pleasant enough kid. She took correspondence courses and was bright enough to be accepted at the Sorbonne.”

Crane was still scanning the dossier. “No criminal background on her. We accepted her for agent training when she was twenty-three years old.” He glanced up. “With a background like that, why the hell was she hired?”

“We justified it on a special-case basis. She spoke eight languages fluently, she was bright, psychologically sound, and seemed genuinely patriotic. She also had one valuable qualification we needed at the time. She was amazingly good with horses from the years spent with her grandfather. We needed her for one specific job and we figured we could get rid of her later if she didn’t work out.” He paused. “She did work out. Her marks on the initial training were some of the highest ever posted. But we needed to mature her fast for this job. So we sent her to Kilmer.”

“My assistant couldn’t find a dossier on this Kilmer.” He frowned. “But I found one of the old fogies in the office who’d heard of him. He was very vague.”

Old fogy? Jesus, North was only fifty and had just a few gray hairs. But he was also probably an old fogy to Crane, who was in his thirties and sleek and tanned as a tennis pro. He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Kilmer was a very valuable asset to the CIA, and everything he did was top secret. Some of his missions would have been considered questionable to the administration, and Foster decided that if there was no record of him, there’d be no leaks. The people who needed to know knew who he was and how he could be contacted.”

“That’s absurd. Foster must have been an idiot. It’s no wonder the agency was in such chaos before the shake-up. Operating like that could cause mass confusion.”

“Oh, I believe we managed to keep confusion to a minimum.” He added, “And Kilmer didn’t end up dead in the water.”

“Who is this Kilmer? The agent who knew about him spoke of him as if he was some freakin’ legend.”

“A legend?” North repeated as he drove out of the parking lot. “Yeah, I guess that’s as good a description as any.”

“Legends are fairy tales. Talk to me.”

He shrugged. “I’ll tell you what I know. He was born in Munich, Germany. His father was a colonel in the U.S. Army; his mother was a translator. His parents were divorced when he was ten, and his father got custody. He believed in the iron hand and raised Kilmer in that school. He went to West Point and did well but quit when he was in his third year. He was a brilliant strategist and his teachers were sorry to see him go. He batted around the world for a while and invariably ended up in a guerrilla unit of some sort wherever he was. He finally formed his own military unit and hired himself out for special jobs. He earned a fine reputation. Years after he formed his team we hired him for a number of tricky missions and found him invaluable.”

“Until the Marvot job.”

North nodded. “Until the Marvot job.”

W
ake up, baby.” Grace shook Frankie gently. “It’s time to get stirring.”

“It’s too early,” Frankie said drowsily. “Ten more minutes, Mom. I’ll do my—” Her lids flew open. “Charlie!” Her eyes filled with tears. “Charlie . . .”

Grace nodded. “It’s true. There’s nothing either one of us can do to change it.” She wiped her own eyes. “I wish there was. But we have to go on, Frankie.” She tossed the covers aside. “Go wash up and brush your teeth. There’s a change of clothes for you in my knapsack. We have to get going.”

Frankie gazed at her in bewilderment. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the farm. It’s almost ten now. We have livestock to feed and water. Charlie wouldn’t want them to suffer, would he?”

Frankie shook her head. “I forgot about them.”

“Charlie wouldn’t forget. We have to do what he would have wanted.” She brushed her lips across Frankie’s nose. “I know you want to ask questions, to talk, and we will. But there are chores to do first.”

Frankie nodded. “Chores. Darling.” She headed for the bathroom, and her movements held a hint of purpose. “I won’t be long, Mom.”

“I know you won’t. We’ll grab a muffin downstairs in the coffee shop and be on our way.”

The door slammed behind Frankie, and Grace drew a breath of relief. So far, so good. If she could keep Frankie busy, it wouldn’t heal the pain but it would keep her from remembering every single moment. It was the same remedy she should prescribe for herself. But there was no question that she was going to be busy. She was being sucked back into that horror she thought she’d escaped nine years ago. But she’d not really thought it was over. Why else had she prepared, packed the knapsack, scouted out those woods? She’d known it wasn’t finished.

She sat down in the chair to wait for Frankie to come out of the bathroom.

I
t’s . . . different.” Frankie’s eyes were fixed on the stable. “I keep expecting to see Charlie walking out of the barn or the stable and teasing me because I got up late.”

“Me too.” She got out of the car. “But he’s not going to be doing that, baby. So we have to get used to it. Why don’t you run and start your chores? I have to go in and do a few things inside the house.”

Frankie’s gaze shifted to her face. “What things? Something to do with Charlie?”

“Partly. I have to gather all his important papers together and send them to his lawyer.”

“And what else?”

“I have to pack our clothes.”

Frankie was silent a moment. “That’s right; we won’t be able to live here anymore. This was Charlie’s place. I’m going to miss it.”

“We’ll come back. Charlie would want us to come back.”

Frankie was shaking her head.

“Frankie, listen to me. Things are going to change for a while, but I promise you that you’ll still have this place and the animals. Do you believe me?”

Frankie nodded. “You don’t lie to me.” She headed for the stable. “I’ve got to go see Darling. He’s smart, but he won’t understand either.”

Either. Frankie didn’t understand, but she was trusting Grace to make things right. She couldn’t disappoint her. “I’ll be there in an hour and we’ll start exercising the horses.”

Frankie lifted her hand in acknowledgment before disappearing into the stable.

Grace stared after her for a moment before turning and going up the front steps. She’d promised her she’d be there in an hour, and it was going to be tight. But she didn’t want Frankie to be alone any longer than she had to be.

“Grace.”

She stiffened and turned to face Kilmer, who was walking down the road toward the house. “I don’t want you here.”

“But you need me.”

“The hell I do.”

“Then Frankie needs me.” He’d reached the porch. “You can be as independent as you like, but you won’t jeopardize Frankie.”

“Don’t you tell me how to take care of my daughter.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Christ, he was just the same. In character and appearance. He must be in his late thirties now, but the years had been kind to him. Tall, lean—deceptively lean, she knew, because no one was more aware than she of the strength and stamina that lay behind that slenderness. But it was his face that she had found so riveting nine years ago. His features weren’t actually good-looking. His dark eyes were deep-set, his cheekbones high, his lips thin, tight. It was his expression that she had always found fascinating. Or lack of it. There was a quietness, a wariness, a containment that had been a challenge from the moment she had first seen him.

“I wouldn’t presume.” He smiled. “Not when you’ve done such an excellent job. She’s quite wonderful, Grace.”

“Yes, she is.”

“I’m only suggesting that you take advantage of my help in getting her out of this predicament. After all, it’s your right to make a few demands on me.”

“She’s not in any predicament I can’t get her out of. And I’ve no intention of making any demands. I don’t want you involved in her life.”

“Then I’ll have to insist.” His voice was soft but there was a thread of hardness running through it. “I’ve left you alone as long as I could because it was safer for both of you. But the situation has changed. I have to step in.”

“Insist all you please. You’ve no right to—”

“I’m Frankie’s father. That gives me a hell of a lot of rights.”

The words struck her like a slap in the face. “You don’t know that. And I’ll swear in any court that you’re not her father.”

“DNA, Grace. The magic of DNA.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “And the timing is right. I don’t think you’d be capable of taking another lover and conceiving in the short time between the time you left me and the time she was born.”

“You’re
not
taking her away from me.”

“That’s not my intention.” He paused. “Look, I promise that I won’t try to take her away. I won’t even tell her that I’m her father. I only want to make sure you’re both safe.”

“Go to hell.” She turned on her heel and opened the front door. “We don’t need you. We have Robert and the CIA to protect us.”

“And they’ll protect you as long as you’re useful. But you’re soon going to prove an encumbrance.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve broken my deal with them.” He made an impatient gesture. “Look, the important thing is that Marvot’s turned his dogs loose. He’s put a five-million-dollar bounty on your head. And a three-million-dollar bounty on Frankie.”

“What?” she whispered.

“Dead or alive on Frankie. He prefers you alive because you could prove valuable, but he doesn’t care about Frankie.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “No.”

“Yes. You know he’s been looking for you since the raid. But when I came back on the scene and became a threat, he decided to pull out all the stops. He put the word out a month ago, and every bounty hunter and cheap hood in Europe and the U.S. is scrambling to find you. Kersoff must have paid off someone at the CIA and hit the jackpot. Donavan got word through one of his contacts that Kersoff had gotten lucky and was on his way to you.” His lips tightened. “I decided it was time to check out Tallanville.”

“Three million dollars on Frankie.” The horror of it was overpowering. “A little girl . . .”

“You know that wouldn’t make a difference to Marvot. You haven’t been away from the action that long.”

“Long enough.” She shuddered. “Why?”

“I stole something away from him that he valued. He knew it was only the opening foray and wanted to punish me. You know Marvot. He believes in a clean sweep. The Mafia has nothing on him.”

“Frankie . . .”

“I know it sucks. I didn’t know he’d find you or her,” he said roughly. “The Company was supposed to be protecting you. They screwed up.”

“And it’s not your fault,” she said sarcastically.

“I didn’t say that. I take the full blame. I’m just giving you my reasons for thinking it wouldn’t affect you. I was wrong and I have to correct it.”

“Tell that to Charlie. Correct that, Kilmer.”

“I can’t.” He paused. “But I can keep you both alive if you’ll let me.” He held her gaze. “And you know I’m your best bet, Grace. You may believe I’m a son of a bitch, but nobody’s better than me at what I do.”

She shook her head and opened the door.

“Don’t be scared if you run into Dillon inside,” Kilmer said.

She froze. “Dillon?”

“You’ve never met Cam Dillon, but he’s very efficient. I had him put a photo of ‘the Pair’ in Blockman’s truck while I hurried on here.”

“Why? How melodramatic. Wouldn’t it have been simpler to just have Dillon talk to him?”

“No, there wasn’t time and I knew Blockman would contact North when his truck was broken into. Orders from headquarters are quicker than long, drawn-out explanations. Anyway, Dillon’s been watching this place since last night, and when I saw you take off in this direction, I told him to start packing for you.”

“What?”

“You don’t have much time and you won’t want to spare the time from Frankie. I told him to pack up your and Frankie’s things. You’ll have to grab Charlie’s documents and any mementos. Dillon wouldn’t be able to decide what you’d value. He should be almost finished by now. If you want him to do anything else, just tell him.” He paused. “He’s only obeying orders, Grace. Go easy on him.” He turned away. “I called your neighbor, Rusty Baker, this morning and arranged for him to send two of his hands from his horse farm to take care of your horses and keep this place clean. They’ll start tomorrow.”

She started to open her lips to speak, but he was already walking away from her.

He glanced back. “Admit it, that’s what you’d do. That’s what would make Frankie happiest when she knows she has to leave here.”

It was what Grace would have done, what she’d been considering doing since she’d realized they couldn’t stay. He’d just beaten her to the punch. “Perhaps.”

He smiled faintly. “You know it. I’ll stick around and talk to you later. Consider what’s best for Frankie. Three million dollars is a lot of money, and there are a lot of money-hungry bastards out there. You need me, Grace.” He strode toward the paddock.

She didn’t need him, she thought as she went into the house. She didn’t want him in her life. He’d brought her nothing but trouble in the past, and now he’d brought her another tragedy. The CIA would relocate her and protect her. They owed her big-time and they wouldn’t let Marvot kill her.