"I don't sleep, Julie. I just think of you. Do you like boats?"

Julie drew in another shattered breath, trying to memorize each tender thing he said. "I love boats."

"What's your bedroom like?"

"Frilly. White ruffles on the bedspread and canopy and dressing table across the room. A picture of you on my night stand."

"Where did you get it?"

"From an old magazine at the library."

"You swiped a magazine from the library and cut a picture of me out of it?" he said, trying to sound shocked.

"Certainly not. I have scruples, you know. I explained I'd damaged it beyond repair and I paid the fine. Zack—" she said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, "the janitor is hanging around outside the glass wall. I don't think he can hear me, but he doesn't normally just loiter around like this."

"I'm going to hang up. Keep talking into the phone after I do. Try to mislead him with an innocuous conversation if you can."

"All right. Wait, he's walking away. He must have needed something from the cart."

"We'd better hang up anyway. If there's anything you need to take care of before you leave, do it in the next week."

She nodded, speechless with regret at the thought of letting him go.

"There's one more thing I need to say to you," he added quietly.

"What is it?"

"I meant every word I wrote in that letter."

"I know you did." She sensed he wanted to hang up, and she added quickly, "Before you go, what do you think of what Matt found out about Tony Austin? Even though Matt doesn't think there's anything we can do legally, there has to be some—"

"Stay out of that," Zack warned her, his voice turning icy. "And leave Austin to me. There are other ways to handle him without involving Matt."

"What sort of ways?"

"Don't ask. If you have problems with any of the arrangements I'm making for you, don't look to Matt for help. What we're doing is illegal and I can't let him get involved beyond what he's already done."

Julie suppressed a shiver at his ominous tone. "Say something sweet before you hang up."

"Something sweet," he repeated, his voice softening. "What did you have in mind?"

She was a little hurt when he seemed unable to think of something, and then he said with a smile in his husky voice, "I am going to bed in exactly three hours. Be there with me. And when you close your eyes, my arms will be around you."

Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper. "I love that."

"They've been around you every night since we parted. Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night."

He hung up and at the last minute, Julie remembered his instructions about carrying on an animated conversation. Rather than fake one, which she didn't think would be as convincing, she called Katherine and managed to talk to her for thirty minutes about anything and everything. She hung up and tore off the sheet of paper with Zack's instructions written on it, then she remembered seeing a mystery on television where the case was solved by the imprint of the handwriting on a tablet, so she took the tablet, too.

"Good night, Henry," she called cheerfully.

"Good night, Miss Julie," he said, shuffling off down the hall.

Julie left by the side door. Henry left by the same door three hours later, after he made a collect call to a phone number in Dallas.

Chapter 53

Julie tossed an overnight case in the back of her car, glanced at her watch to make certain she still had more than enough time to make her noon flight, and went back into the house. As she was loading her breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, the phone on the wall rang and she picked it up. "Hi, beautiful," Paul Richardson's voice was warm and crisp, an odd combination, Julie thought. "I know it's short notice, but I'd love to see you this weekend. I could fly in from Dallas and take you to dinner tomorrow night for Valentine's Day. Better yet, why don't I fly you here, and I'll cook?"

Julie had already decided that if she were actually being watched, an "innocent" trip like the one this weekend might actually fool her spies into letting down their guard. "I can't, Paul, I'm leaving for the airport in a half hour."

"Where are you going?"

"Is that an official question?" Julie asked, cradling the phone between her shoulder and chin and rinsing out a glass.

"If it was official, wouldn't I be asking it in person?"

Her instinctive liking and trust of him warred with the wariness Zack made her feel, but until she actually got into her car to leave Keaton for the last time, it seemed wisest and easiest to stick completely to the truth. "I don't know whether you would or not," she admitted.

"Julie, what can I do to make you trust me?"

"Quit your job?"

"There has to be an easier way."

"I still have some things to do before I leave. Let's talk about this when I get back."

"From where and when?"

"I'm going to visit a friend's grandmother in a little town in Pennsylvania—Ridgemont, to be exact. I'll be home late tomorrow."

He sighed. "Okay, then. I'll call you next week and we'll make a date?"

"Mmm. Fine," she said absently, pouring detergent into the dishwasher and shutting the door.

Paul Richardson hung up the phone in his office, placed a second call, and waited for the answer, drumming his fingers on his desk. He snatched the phone on the first ring, and a woman's voice said, "Mr. Richardson, Julie Mathison has reservations on a flight out of Dallas connecting through Philadelphia to Ridgemont, Pennsylvania, on a commuter flight. Will you need any further information?"

"No," he said with a relieved sigh. He got up, walked over to the windows, and frowned at the scanty weekend traffic moving down the Dallas boulevard. "Well?" Dave Ingram said, coming in from the adjoining office. "What did she tell you about the suitcase she put in her car?"

"The truth, damn it! She told me the truth, because she has nothing to hide."

"Bullshit. You're conveniently forgetting that phone call from South America she waited for at school the other night."

Paul swung around. "South America? Have you gotten a trace then?"

"Yep, five minutes ago. The call she got came through a hotel switchboard in San Lucia Del Mar."

"Benedict!" Paul said, his jaw tightening. "What name did he register under?"

"José Feliciano," Ingram said. "That arrogant son of a bitch actually registered as José Feliciano!"