front door. After studying the dead bolt, he sized up the alarm panel, then the door mat. He added additional security devices for all to the mental list he was compiling. “Her only hope of survival was a transplant.”
“Transplants are performed in every state. Why did Ryker risk taking his wife and sick daughter overseas?”
“Emily had a rare blood type which narrowed the chance of finding a heart through legal channels almost to zero. I figure Ryker thought his only hope of saving his child was to buy a heart on the black market. The paperwork steered us to a Malaysian surgeon known to have ties to al Qaeda. He wouldn’t answer questions, but the theory is the black-market heart and surgery would have cost more than a million dollars. Which explains why Ryker sold out.”
Jackson felt his anger growing, a vicious heat that would bubble in his blood if he allowed it to. “Later, we found out Ryker had been selling blank U.S. passports to a terrorist named Hassan Kaddur. After an expert forger gets through with the blanks, it’ll be almost impossible to tell a fake from the real thing. That compromises unknown numbers of Americans on their own turf.”
Claire placed the vase in a display cabinet near a collection of salt cellars, then turned. “None of that explains why Ryker wants to kill me.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Jackson moved to the cabinet where she stood. He recognized the Chanel scent that pulsed off her in little waves and made his juices swim. Years of practice had taught him how to present a certain face and attitude to the world no matter how he was feeling. It was an ability he would put to good use as long as he stayed here.
“Last night I got a call from an informant in Hong Kong. Guy named Kim. He said that the night before he’d been at an outdoor market and spotted a man built like Ryker talking on a cell phone. His hair was black instead of blond and he wore thick, horn-rimmed glasses, so Kim didn’t think it was Ryker. But Kim’s always looking to buy and sell intel, so he eavesdropped on the call. When Kim heard the man’s voice, he was even more convinced the guy wasn’t Ryker.”
“But you think it was?”
“I know it was.”
“So, why aren’t you in Hong Kong instead of here?”
“Because Kim overheard the man say Claire and Oklahoma City. Ryker was talking about you.”
Watching her, Jackson saw her breathing turn fast and shallow. Knowing the blame for her fear lay on his shoulders tore him apart. It was all he could do not to pull her against him. Hold her. Comfort her.
“This is crazy,” she rasped, her fingers clenching the dust rag. “Why would Ryker come after me?”
“To get back at me. I’m the only person Ryker told about the safe house. So when the MSD team showed up there, he knew I’d survived the warehouse blast and sent SWAT to hit the house. In Ryker’s mind, I’m the reason his wife and daughter are dead. His coming after you is his way of leveling the playing field.”
“How?” Claire asked, staring up at him in confusion. “You and I haven’t seen each other in two years. We haven’t even talked. We’ve both moved on. Why would Ryker think he can get back at you through me?”
Jackson kept his gaze locked with hers. The huge flaw in Claire’s reasoning was her assumption they’d both moved on. Only she could claim that. He had given it his best shot, but it hadn’t worked. All he’d managed to do was stay away from her.
“When you spend hours on a stakeout, you have to talk about something. Ryker’s pet topic was his wife and Emily. When you and I were together, your name naturally came up. Ryker knows I haven’t been involved with anyone serious since you. He blames me for the death of his family and wants to even the score.”
“His family,” Claire repeated, her face taut with worry. “You lost your parents years ago, but what about Garrett? He’s your twin, Jackson. You should be wherever he is, making sure Ryker doesn’t get to him.”
In a wave, the still-raw grief Jackson had fought hard to hold at bay washed over him. “Garrett’s dead.”
Her face went white and stiff. “When? How?”
“A little more than two weeks ago. He was in a Barcelona restaurant when a bomb planted there in a backpack exploded.”
“Oh, God.” What Jackson had said was terrible enough, but hearing it recited in a flat, empty voice iced Claire’s blood. Whatever grief, whatever anger he felt was masked by a calm, unapproachable expression. But she knew he had loved his twin brother deeply, and the pain he felt must be brutal.
Pure reflex had her dropping the cleaning rag and stepping toward him. She felt Jackson’s pain as if it were her own. She settled her hand on his forearm and murmured, “I’m so sorry.” Beneath her palm she felt his heat, his hard-muscled strength. “I loved Garrett, too.”
“Yeah.” Instantly, he turned away, forcing her to drop her hand.
A dull throb settled in Claire’s belly. She had turned down his proposal and walked out on him. Why should she think he’d welcome her touch for any reason? After all, he hadn’t popped back into her life for old times’sake. He was there because she was in danger. She was his current assignment.
“Do you think Ryker was behind the bombing?” she asked.
“There’s no evidence to indicate that. Which doesn’t mean a damn thing.” He jabbed his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “If he was in on it and didn’t want me to find out, he’d make sure he didn’t leave a trail. All I know is that it’s the norm for whatever group is behind a bombing to claim responsibility. That hasn’t happened. But there’s a terrorist cell in Barcelona controlled by Hassan Kaddur. He might have had his extremists carry out the bombing to show Ryker his thanks for funneling all those blank U.S. passports his way.”
Claire picked up a brass microscope, set it back down. “So, with your family gone, you think Ryker has targeted me by default?”
“Something like that,” Jackson said carefully. He could still feel the warm press of her palm against his forearm. Knowing she shared his grief—and his love for his brother—he’d been seconds from dragging her into his arms and holding her. Just holding her until the suffocating pain inside him diminished.
But if he ever had her in his arms again he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go. That complication, at least, he could avoid by keeping his hands off her.
Turning back to face her, he said, “The bottom line is that Ryker’s got you in his cross-hairs. That’s why, before I caught the plane out of Barcelona, I called Tom Iverson at the Homeland Security Office here. I briefed him on Ryker and asked Tom to check on you. He came to Reunion Square this morning. The woman who owns the shop next door told him you’d gone out of town to an auction, but she didn’t know where. It stood to reason Ryker wouldn’t be able to find you, either, before I arrived. When I ran into you on the sidewalk and you said your handyman had been murdered, my first thought was that Ryker had shown up.”
Claire’s gaze dropped to the damp blotch on the floor while a sick feeling crept into her belly. “So, you think it should have been my throat that got slit, not Silas Smith’s.”
Jackson knew she felt guilty enough without telling her
