what he wanted most to keep her out of harm’s way. In fact, at the moment, he looked like he’d do just about anything to keep her safe.
Her chest tightened, a reaction that threw her totally off guard. She shifted uncomfortably and swallowed back a jolt of panic. “Rafe, that’s not going to make a difference.” He rolled his eyes, and she reached out in response, wrapping her fingers around his forearm as she softened her voice. “Tell me what I’m missing here.”
His eyes slid closed for a brief second, opened. “James Kimbel was at the party.”
“I don’t recognize the name.”
“Elderly gardener. Rat-bastard grandson. Hates my guts with a passion. Ring a bell?”
“Your neighbor in the Keys?”
“Yeah. I think good ol’ Jimmy’s the one who shot at us last night, was one of the ones shooting at us to night. Which means someone hired him to follow me. Probably from Key West. Maybe even before. Someone who knows what we’re after.”
Before. Like Italy. Or Jamaica. The voices she and Simeon had heard in that cave rushed through her mind. Maybe they weren’t following him, but her. “I don’t understand. If he—”
“The black guy he was with? I’m pretty sure it was Terence Winters. Big-time player in the antiquities circuit. I heard his voice when I was upstairs. Winters is the kind of guy who will do what ever it takes to get what he wants. Including convincing some pansy-assed kid who’s never liked me the quickest way to the easy life is to take me out of the game.”
“Winters is what, a treasure hunter?”
“Yeah. You could say that. One who’s been implicated in a couple murders and is on several major wanted lists in a handful of countries. Always manages to stay under the radar though. He’s got connections. Everywhere. And if he’s working with Landau, then it means those connections are big. You saw the political power at that party.”
A chill ran down her back. “Nice.”
“No. Not nice. Dangerous. I had a run-in with Winters a few years ago. We were both after the same piece. He wouldn’t even think twice about popping me to get at the Furies.”
The honesty in his eyes sent her stomach churning. “If that’s true, then splitting up isn’t going to get me out of this. He’ll just come looking for me, too.”
He braced both hands on her arms. “Lisa, do me a favor and just disappear for a while, okay? When things settle down, I’ll get in touch with you. I won’t cut you out of it, I promise.”
She believed him. He might still be a thief, but he was telling her the truth. That fact cemented her decision.
“I’m not leaving.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his arms. “Fuck.”
A smile tugged at her mouth even though her stomach was jumping all over the place. “You know, you’ve been using that word in English a lot more lately. Acclimating to the north?”
He frowned. “I’m not gettin’ any, right? Might as well at least enjoy the word.”
She couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped from her lips. She liked him, really liked him, which only made this strange relationship of theirs harder to comprehend.
He rested his hands on his hips and looked up the empty track with a frown. “So tell me, smartass, does this train go all the way to O’Hare?”
At least he sounded seminormal again. The chill was gone from his words, even if he still looked ready to pound something. “Yeah. You have to switch trains at Jackson Station, but the Blue Line will take you all the way to the airport.”
“Okay. So we’ll catch a flight and head back to Miami to regroup. I need to call Pete.”
“Pete?”
“My business partner.”
She nodded, curious but not really sure she wanted to know the details of his shady dealings. “But we need to stop by Shane’s first.”
“I don’t want to risk going back there. We’ll buy you some more clothes when we get to the airport.”
“That’s fine, but I still need to stop by Shane’s.”
He glanced over with curious eyes. “Why?”
He hadn’t just saved her life for the second time, he’d been honest with her. That meant more to her than anything else. At some point she had to trust him if they were going to make this work and find Tisiphone before it was too late. “I need Doug’s journal.”
“His what?”
“His journal. I pulled it from the boxes and slipped it into my pack before we left my parents’ place last night. He kept