Judith McNaught (72 page)

"No," Zack's grandmother replied. "I have called to ask you, to plead with you, to turn him in if you know where he is before another innocent human is murdered."

"His name is Zack!" Julie choked fiercely. "Stop calling your own grandson 'him'!"

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The other woman drew in a sharp breath and when she spoke again, she sounded almost as tormented as Julie felt. "If you know where
Zack
is," she pleaded, "if you know where
my grandson
is," she added,

"please, for the love of God, stop him,"

Julie's animosity dissolved when she heard the anguish in that proud voice. "I will," she whispered.

"
O
n behalf of the crew of flight 614, thank you for flying Aero-Mexico," the flight attendant said.

"Remember," she added cheerfully, "we're the airline that got you to your destination twenty minutes ahead of schedule." Her voice becoming businesslike, she continued, "Please remain in your seats with

your seat belt securely fastened until the aircraft has come to a full stop at the gate."

Seated near the back row of the crowded plane between Ted and Paul Richardson, Julie clutched her brother's hand in a death grip, her stomach churning as the plane lurched to a stop and the jetway swung out to meet it from the terminal. Her heart was beginning to scream that this was wrong, her conscience

shouted it was right and she was trapped helplessly in the crossfire. Beside her, Paul Richardson noticed her chest beginning to rise and fall in fast shallow breaths, and he took her other hand in his. "Take it easy, honey," he said in a low, reassuring voice. "It's almost over. The airport is secured at every exit."

Julie jerked her gaze from the passengers who were beginning to stand up and gather their belongings from the overhead racks. "I can't do it. I can't. I'm going to be sick!"

He tightened his grip on her clammy fingers. "You're hyperventilating. Take slow deep breaths."

Julie made herself obey. "Don't let anyone hurt him!" she warned in a fierce whisper. "You promised you

wouldn't let anyone hurt him."

Paul stood up along with the passengers in front of them, and with his hand on her arm, gently urged Julie

to stand, too. She yanked her arm away. "Promise me again that you won't let anyone hurt him!"

"No one wants to hurt him, Julie," he said as if he was speaking to a terrified child, "That's why you came

along. You wanted to be sure no one would hurt him, and I told you there'd be less chance of violence if Benedict sees you and believes you'll get caught in the middle. Remember?"

When she nodded jerkily, he began moving forward with his hand beneath her elbow. "Okay, this is it,"

he said. "Ted and I will stay just a few paces behind you from now on. Don't be afraid. My people are spread all over the terminal and outside it, and your safety is their first priority. If Benedict starts shooting,

they'll put their lives on the line to protect you."

"Zack wouldn't hurt me!" she said scornfully.

"He's not sane. You don't know what he'll do if he realizes you tricked him. That's why, no matter what happens, you're going to pretend to be on his side until he's safely in custody. Remember, we talked about all this before?" He drew back as they were about to reach the attractive brunette flight attendant standing at the front door of the plane. "Do you have it all clear?"

Julie wanted to start screaming that nothing was clear, but she dug her fingernails into her palms and
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somehow made herself nod.

"Okay, you're on your own now," he said, stopping in the doorway and carefully taking her coat off her shoulders and draping it over her arm. "In five minutes, this will all be over. Keep thinking of that

—just

five more minutes. And remember, don't look for him, let him find you."

He stopped, watching as she walked slowly ahead of them down the jetway, letting her gain several yards on him, then he stepped forward with Ted at his side. The moment they were out of hearing of the flight crew, Ted said in a low, furious whisper, "You had no right to put her through this. You said yourself the whole airport is swarming with FBI and Mexican police. You don't need her here to draw him out!"

Paul unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie—a casually dressed businessman coming to Mexico City

with a friend for a few days' business and pleasure.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he said with a tight smile, "She insisted on coming to make certain Benedict isn't hurt, and you know it. I had the pilot radio

ahead for a doctor; he'll be on hand to give her a sedative as soon as this is over."

"If you were half as clever as you think you are, your people would already have him in custody, and they don't, do they? You found that out when you went up into the cockpit to use the radio, didn't you?"

Paul's smile widened, but his words were ominous.

"Right. He's slipped past them somehow, or else he didn't come. The FBI has no jurisdiction in Mexico.

Until we get Benedict across the border we can only

'assist' the Mexican police in this operation, and they aren't very good with this sort of thing."

Shaking from the tips of her feet to the ends of her fingers, Julie walked unsteadily into the noisy gate area, where passengers were being met by family and friends, her gaze searching wildly for a tall, dark-haired man loitering at the edge of some cheerful group, and when she didn't see him, she took a

few steps beyond the gate into the terminal and faltered, paralyzed with a conflicting mixture of relief and

panic.

"Pardon, señorita!" a Mexican called, jostling past her, running for his flight with a boy in one hand and a

suitcase in the other.

"Pardon!" another man said, shoving her rudely—he was very tall and dark, and his face was turned away. "Zack!" she whispered in terror, whirling around, watching in confusion as he ran toward a gate

where passengers were swarming off their plane.

Three Mexicans leaning against a post stared at her, then at the man, then at her, and she noticed them at the same time she saw the dark man's face. Not Zack's face.

The public address system seemed to blare in her ears:
Flight 620 from Los Angeles is now arriving
at Gate A-64. Flight 1152 from Phoenix is arriving
at Gate A-23. Flight 134…"

Shaking harder, Julie reached a trembling hand up, shoved her hair off her forehead and began walking swiftly and blindly down the terminal, wanting it to happen without her seeing it now. Four more minutes.

If she walked fast, she thought, if she didn't look right or left, Zack would move out from behind a post

or a pillar, materialize in a doorway, and they'd take him and it would be over.

Please, God, let it happen quickly,she prayed in a chant that matched her long, quick strides after she passed unchallenged through customs.
Don't let
them hurt him. Let it happen quickly. Don't let them
hurt him. Let it happen quickly.

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Walking swiftly, she shoved past the passengers emerging from the crowded security check gate, and without breaking stride, she glanced at the overhead sign with an arrow pointing to the terminal exit, turned in that direction, and kept right on going.

Don't let them hurt him
…
Don't let them hurt him

…
Don't let him be here,
she chanted hysterically as she walked. Two more minutes. Ahead were the doors leading out to the brightly lit area where taxis and cars were waiting with their headlights on.
Don't
let him be here. Don't let him be here. Don't let him
be here. Don't let him be—here.

He wasn't here.

Julie stopped dead, oblivious to the fact that she was being shoved and jostled by streams of laughing, talking people trying to get around her to leave the terminal. Slowly she turned, her gaze drifting past Paul

Richardson, who'd halted and seemed to be chatting with Ted … past the group of laughing Mexicans rushing toward her … past the tall, stooped, elderly man with graying hair, who was carrying a suitcase, his head bent … past the mother with— The old man! Julie's gaze shot back to him just as he slowly lifted his head and raised his eyes to her … his warm, smiling, golden eyes.

Screaming a silent warning to him, Julie stepped forward once, twice, and started running, shoving through the crowd, trying to throw herself between him and danger at the same time a male voice boomed."HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, BENEDICT!"

Zack froze, men grabbed him, throwing him against the wall, but his eyes stayed riveted on Julie, warning

her fiercely to stay away. Pandemonium erupted with the shouts of passengers scrambling to get out of the way of Mexican Federales, who were running forward drawing guns, and Julie heard herself screaming at all of them, "Don't hurt him! Don't hurt him!"

Paul Richardson grabbed her, jerking her back.

"They're hurting him!" she cried, struggling in his grip to see around the bodies of the men crowded around him. "They're
hurting
him!"

"It's all over!" Paul shouted in her ear, trying to restrain and calm her. "It's all right! It's over!"

The words finally registered and Julie froze. Unable to pull free or look away, she watched in paralyzed anguish as Zack was surrounded and searched under the supervision of a short, impeccably dressed man with thinning hair who suddenly seemed to be in charge. He was smiling as he watched Zack being frisked by the Mexican Federales, and she heard him say, "We're going home, Benedict, and we're going to be together for a long, long time—" He broke off as one of the Federales pulled something out of Zack's pocket, and he held out his hand. "What's that?" he snapped.

The Federale dropped the object into his palm and Julie felt her body go cold at the evil in his smile as he looked from the object in his hand to Zack's expressionless profile. "How sweet!" he sneered, then he

turned suddenly toward Julie, striding forward.

"I'm Warden Hadley," he said, holding out his hand.

"I'll bet this was meant for you."

Julie didn't react, she couldn't move, because Zack was looking at her now, and the expression in his eyes made her want to die. He was silently telling her he loved her. Telling her he was sorry. Telling her

good-bye.

Because he still thought she'd led them to him by accident.

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"Take it!" Hadley snapped in an awful voice.

Jolted by his tone, Julie automatically reached out her hand.

The object he dropped into it was a slender diamond wedding band.

"Oh, no—" she moaned, squeezing it to her chest as tears raced down her cheeks. "No, no, no—"

Ignoring her, Hadley turned to the Mexican police.

"Get him out of here," he ordered, jerking his head toward the doors where dozens of squad cars with whirling lights had silently appeared. But as the Federales shoved Zack forward, Hadley seemed to think something was wrong. "Wait a minute," he snapped, then he turned to Julie as Zack was yanked to a stop beside her, and he said with an oily, malicious smile. "Miss Mathison, I've been very rude. I haven't thanked you yet for your cooperation.

If

you hadn't helped us set this whole scheme up, Benedict might never have been caught."

Zack's head jerked up, his gaze raking Julie's guilt-stricken face, and she watched in agony as his eyes registered first disbelief. And then hatred. A hatred so deep that all the muscles in his face tightened into a

mask of rage. In a burst of fury, he twisted against his captors and lunged toward the door.

"Hold the sonofabitch!" Hadley shouted, and the alarm in his voice made the panicked Federales lash out with billy clubs.

Julie heard the crack of wood on bone and sinew, she saw Zack hit the floor on his knees, and she went wild when they raised their clubs to hit him again.

Tearing free of Paul's grip, she launched herself at Hadley. Whimpering with maddened pain for the man on the floor, she clawed the side of Hadley's face

and kicked at him in a mindless frenzy while Paul was trying to restrain her. Hadley doubled up his fist to

strike her but halted at Paul's enraged warning: "You sadistic bastard, touch her and I'll tear your larynx out!" Lifting his head, he shouted to one of his men,

"Get the goddamned doctor over here!" Then he jerked his head toward Hadley and added, "And get him out of here!"

But he needn't have worried about breaking up another uneven fight … Julie was slowly sliding down in

his arms in a dead faint.

Dr. Delorik walked out of Julie's bedroom carrying his black bag and smiled reassuringly at Julie's worried family and Katherine who were gathered in the living room, waiting for his prognosis. "She's a sturdy thing. She'll be fine physically in twenty-four hours," he promised. "You can go in and tell her good

night if you like. She's sedated so she won't know it's actually morning, not night, and she may not respond or even remember you were here, but it may help her rest easier anyway. It'll be a couple of days before she feels like going back to work."

"I'll call her principal and explain," Mrs. Mathison said quickly, standing up, her anxious gaze on the open door to Julie's room.

"You won't have to explain much to him or anyone else," Dr. Delorik said flatly. "In case you haven't had

a television set on yet, you may as well know that what happened in Mexico last night is all over every news program on the air this morning, complete with videotapes of the whole thing provided by
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vacationers who had minicams with them in the airport. The good news is that, despite the beating Benedict got from the Mexican police on those videotapes, the press is making Julie sound like a heroine

who collaborated in a clever scheme to trap a murderer."

Six faces looked at him without a trace of pleasure in his "good news," so he continued as he shrugged into his coat, "Someone should stay with her for the next twenty-four hours—just to keep an eye on her and to be sure someone is here when she wakes up."