“What do you mean, gone?”
“I mean she left the hospital last night and switched off her phone. I haven’t heard from her since. I went to her hotel this morning but they told me she’d checked out.”
“I don’t believe you. Not even you would be so incompetent as to let a key asset like Whitney slip through your fingers.”
Jean Rizzo shrugged. “I really don’t care what you believe, Agent Buck. And for the record, Tracy isn’t an asset. She’s a friend. If it hadn’t been for her, Jeff Stevens would be dead and Daniel Cooper would still be out there killing women. Check her hotel yourself if you don’t believe me. It’s the Britannia, on—”
“I know where she’s staying, you moron! I’ve had her under surveillance for months.”
“Pity you didn’t pick her up earlier, then, isn’t it?”
Jean walked away, leaving the FBI agent spluttering in his wake.
A FEW MINUTES LATER Jean knocked on the door of Jeff Stevens’s room. When there was no answer, he went inside.
Stevens was heavily tranquilized and sleeping like a baby. He was out of the woods now, according to the doctors, and was expected to make a full recovery. But he hadn’t been fully conscious for more than a few seconds since he was brought in.
Tracy was asleep in a chair next to his bed. She looked so peaceful, Jean felt bad waking her up. But he knew he had to. Shaking her gently by the shoulders, he told her about his exchange with Agent Buck.
“You need to leave here. As soon as possible. Get a flight out of Bulgaria today.”
Tracy looked stricken. “What about Jeff? He hasn’t woken up yet, not truly. He doesn’t even know I was here.”
“I’ll tell him,” Jean said kindly. “When he comes to I’ll need to question him. I’ll tell him everything.”
Tracy hesitated. There were things she needed to tell Jeff. Many, many things. Although she still had no real idea where she should begin.
“If I write a note, will you give it to him?” she asked Jean.
“Of course. But you need to hurry, Tracy. Buck’s not kidding around. If he finds you here, he’ll arrest you.”
Tracy nodded. She had already started to write.
“Where will you go?” asked Jean.
Tracy seemed surprised by the question. “Home, of course. To Nicholas.”
“You can’t stay there, you know,” said Jean. “Buck will find you. He’ll force you to work for him. You need to grab your son and get out. Start again somewhere new, so
mewhere far away.”
Tracy shook her head. “I can’t do that. Colorado is Nick’s home. I can’t raise my son on the run.”
“But, Tracy . . .”
She smiled, kissing Jean Rizzo on the cheek. “I’ll take my chances. You worry too much, Jean, you know that?”
Three hours later, Tracy was on a plane.
Three days later, Jeff Stevens woke up and read Tracy’s letter.
Three months later, Jeff watched as Dr. Elena Dragova signed his release papers.
“We’ll miss you,” Dr. Dragova told him.
“I’ll miss you too. Especially Sister Katia. You will give her my love?”
The surgeon laughed. “You’re incorrigible. Where will you go? I hope you have someone prepared to take care of you. Or at least to put up with you.”