Safe Harbor

by Christine Feehan

  Prakenskii never took his eyes off her face when Joley made her declaration. A long slow hiss escaped and he stood in one fluid movement, with all the grace and predatory menace and deadly threat of a fully grown tiger. "When one calls in a favor, you tell the truth. I demand the truth and the name of this man who had his hands and mouth all over you."

  "What difference does it make who he is?" Joley's chin was up, her eyes throwing off sparks.

  "I would not want to kill the wrong man."

  "Whoa. Stop right there." Jonas jumped up. "You can't make threats like that."

  "It is a matter of honor." There was no emotion in his voice whatsoever. Prakenskii shrugged as if a life didn't matter at all to him.

  The Drakes looked at one another, puzzled, and then at Joley. She sucked in her breath. "Ilya," she began and then stopped, looking helplessly at Libby.

  Ilya Prakenskii followed her gaze and frowned. "You owe me the truth and I've asked for it. One of you needs to provide it."

  Hannah looked around at her sisters. "I do owe you a tremendous debt, we all do, but this is not my secret to tell. If it was, I would give you the information that you ask for, but I'm sorry, I can't."

  Prakenskii looked around the room at their faces. "I have asked that a debt of honor be repaid. You are refusing me?"

  Libby shook her head. "No, we're not." Color swept into her face, but she kept her gaze locked with his. "I was with Tyson at his house and someone wanted to harm him--us. The man took pictures of the two of us. I'm a doctor and I'm not used to tabloids and the terrible things they do to a person's life. Joley dyed her hair and took the heat, pretending the pictures were of her, so my reputation wouldn't be damaged," Libby said. "It was a generous and loving thing for her to do."

  Prakenskii stood absolutely still in the middle of the room. His gaze rested on Joley's averted face. "It was dangerous. And she knows it was. Look at me." When she didn't, his voice hardened. "Look at me."

  Joley lifted her gaze to his.

  "You should have told me when I asked."

  "It wasn't your business."

  Hannah held up her hand. "Why does he keep saying you're doing something dangerous, Joley?"

  Joley shrugged. "I don't know. He thinks I'm drawing all the crazies to me."

  Hannah went pale and reached back for Jonas, unaware that she did so. "I know you have precog, Ilya. If Joley's in danger, come out and say so. Tell us where the danger is coming from."

  "I have said so. And if I knew where it was coming from, I'd eliminate it," Prakenskii said. "I know you don't trust me, Hannah, none of you do, and it doesn't really matter, but whoever arranged the attack on you was making a point. It was brutal and vicious and direct. They tried to destroy your face and your body and then take your life. They'll come after you again. And Joley is drawing the same kind of attention, but why? You'll have to ask her." He spread his hands out.

  He turned and headed toward the door. "I'm going to be in town awhile. I know you won't ask for my help, but you're going to get it anyway."

  "Is Nikitin in town?" Jonas asked.

  "Oh yes. Joley's here. The press is here. Nikitin is going to be right in the thick of things. He can do business from anywhere in the world, thanks to cell phones and computers."

  "Why do you work for him?" Jonas asked.

  Prakenskii shrugged. "Where else is a man like me going to find work?"

  Joley's breath hissed out between her teeth. "Yeah, go crawling back and protect that worthless jerk. It isn't like you can change who you are."

  Prakenskii paused at the door, his eyes glittering as they drifted over her furious face. "No, I can't. Any more than you can."

  Jonas followed him outside. "Is Nikitin involved in the attack on Hannah?"

  Prakenskii's eyes had gone as cold as ice. "If he was, he'd be dead. Despite what you think of me, the Drakes are under my protection. But I'm hearing rumors--whispers--and so far I haven't been able to find out who put out the hit, but there is one." He gestured toward the crowd of people around the fence. "You have a problem here. Whoever it is will strike again and they'll do it differently this time. They got their media attention and they made their statement. Now they want her dead."

  Jonas sent a long assessing look at the crush of people around the fence. Flowers, teddy bears and candles were everywhere. But he recognized a couple of the Reverend's close guardians and he spotted Rudy Venturi, a man who followed Hannah everywhere she went, right up front, clutching flowers in his hands.

  "If I didn't tell you before, Prakenskii, thanks for saving her life. She told me she never would have made it without you."

  Prakenskii stepped off the stairs and turned back, shaking his head, musing aloud. "It was a brutal attack, Harrington. Something's not right about it to me. That kind of hatred should be easy enough to spot." He paused and looked slowly around. "Whoever wants her dead--they're here. They're right here in her hometown and they're waiting for the chance to strike. I can feel them."

  "Thanks. I'll find them."

  "I don't doubt that you will--but will you be in time?"

  Jonas's face hardened. "Oh, yeah. I'll be in time." He watched Prakenskii stride off, wondering just what game the man was playing--and what Joley was up to. He needed to talk to her and fast. The last thing he wanted was to add another complication to this mess.

  He took a deep breath and let it out, Prakenskii's warning sinking in as he took another slow, careful look around the crowd. Jonas felt it, too. Prakenskii wasn't blowing smoke to make himself important, something evil lurked in the air.

  Down near the gate, Matt Granite, Kate's fiance, gestured for him. Matt was standing in front of Rudy Venturi. Rudy was small and slight, with bright, dyed hair pulled up into spikes, with a nondescript face. Without the hair it would be easy to miss him in a crowd. Jonas imagined most people did overlook him.

  He took his time, sauntering down toward the man, not wanting to spook him. The last time they'd talked hadn't been pleasant. Jonas had interrogated him for hours after Hannah had received a threatening letter from him, calling her a stuck-up bitch--and the man had money. Lots and lots of money--money enough to hire a brutal and soul-destroying attack on Hannah. Had he been that angry over a perceived slight? Had he been so enraged that he paid for someone to slash her face and body to ribbons before the man used her as a punching bag with a knife clutched in his fist?

  The images came back, vivid and sickening, so real he could count the splashes of blood spraying the room. His stomach twisted and heaved and he stumbled, his body breaking out in a sweat. He ruthlessly willed the images away and forced a smile when he stopped in front of Rudy, keeping his voice friendly.

  "Are you Rudy Venturi? Hannah told me you come to all of her events." To his knowledge Hannah had never directly spoken to Venturi. Jonas had made it very clear--ordered her--to stay away from him. The man had a sizable trust fund, due to a car accident that left him without family and slightly brain damaged. He traveled extensively, mostly following Hannah from shoot to shoot.

  Rudy nodded, clutching his flowers.

  "The doctors have said she can't see anyone right now. She needs to rest," Jonas said, holding his hands out for the flowers. "Were you there when she was attacked?"

  Rudy nodded as he reluctantly handed the huge bouquet to Jonas. "Sh-she should have h-had a bodyguard."

  "I agree. That's why I'm here now. I'm not going to let anything happen to her," he added. "Did you see the man who stabbed her?"

  Rudy pressed a hand to his mouth and nodded vigorously. "Th-there was so much b-blood. I thought she was d-dead and I wanted to d-die."

  "No, she's very much alive. Did you see the man who attacked her talking to anyone else before the attack?"

  Rudy slapped his hands on his thighs in agitation. "Yes! Yes. He kept sh-shaking his head back and forth. I saw him p-pull out the knife. The other man hit h-him on the back as he went up to the rope line. I t-tried to tell the policeman, but the
p-preacher was yelling and the policeman went to talk to h-him instead."

  "You really saw him, Rudy?" Jonas asked, working at keeping his voice calm and even. Rudy would never make a good witness, and he lived in an alternate world, but if he was telling the truth, it could be a big break for them. "You could really help Hannah if you could describe him for me."

  Deliberately he stepped closer to the man, creating a sense of urgency and camaraderie. "Here, come inside the fence and talk to me where no one else can hear you." He held the gate and watched as Rudy's chest expanded with importance and he walked onto the Drake property. "You do want to help her, don't you?"

  "She's so nice. She always smiles at me. Everyone else looks right through me, but she sees me--and she smiles."

  "I think she's nice, too," Jonas said. "It was good of you to bring her flowers." There were flowers all along the fence from well-wishers all over the world, but Jonas made a show of looking at the arrangement. "She really loves flowers."

  Half the freaking world was sending flowers and it still hadn't occurred to Jonas to do so. All he wanted to do was hold her. Feel her. Touch her. Know she was safe. A man like Rudy Venturi knew enough to bring her flowers, but Jonas hadn't even thought of it.

  "Rudy, you have to help her now. Try to remember everything you can about the man talking to Hannah's attacker."

  "I don't have a new signed picture of her. She always gives me one, but she didn't this time in New York."

  "Hannah gives you a picture?" He was going to shake her until her teeth rattled if that was true. She knew better than to get too close to the rope line. He'd warned her a year ago to stop signing autographs for people.

  "Signed to me," Rudy continued. "It says, 'Wishing you the best, Hannah.' Every show she brings me a new one and she didn't."

  Jonas clenched his teeth and bit back a curse. That was so like Hannah to smile and nod when he was discussing security and then do whatever the hell she wanted to do. "She probably had it with her and, when she was attacked, couldn't give it to you," he pointed out, keeping his voice even.

  Rudy nodded and frowned a little. "But if I tell you what he looks like, you'll get me her photograph signed? It has to say, 'Wishing you the best, Hannah.' It has to say that, because she always gives me one."

  He was going to do more than shake her. What the hell was she thinking? Rudy may have seemed harmless, but if she was going to single him out and make him feel special, she should have had a security guard do it for her. Jonas forced a smile. "I'll make certain it's signed, Rudy. Tell me what you remember."

  Rudy scrunched up his face and made small noises, like a computer trying to access information when it was old and tired. "He was big."

  Jonas waited, but Rudy looked happy with himself. "Big. Okay. I got that. What color of hair? Was it short or long?"

  "Blond and short. Very short. And he looked mean. He smiled, but it wasn't real. It was the same kind of smile you have."

  Jonas went still. Rudy might have suffered brain damage in the accident, and he appeared childlike, but he was still sharp, or maybe like a child, he could perceive the truth easier than an adult. "I'm sorry. I'm upset about what that man did to Hannah."

  Rudy nodded. "Me, too." His brows came together as he studied Jonas's face. "I know you. You talked to me before. You weren't nice."

  Jonas sighed. He'd been afraid Rudy would recognize him sooner or later. No, he hadn't been nice. He'd interrogated Rudy roughly, hammering away at him while the man became more and more confused and upset. "I'm careful of Hannah's safety and she had been getting some threatening letters."

  Rudy hung his head. "I wrote to her."

  "Yes, I read the letters. You wrote several." Rudy had called her some nasty names and the threat was more implied than stated. Jonas had wanted to come across the table and smash him until he realized the man was so fixated on getting Hannah's picture that it superseded actually talking with Hannah. Or was Rudy clever enough to just appear dim and bumbling? Jonas had discovered killers were very manipulative and deceptive.

  "I was angry because she didn't give me the picture. When she was in Australia, she didn't give me. She always gives me one."

  "Yes, I know she does," Jonas said with as much patience as he could muster. "I'll get you one from her, signed the way you like it. What else do you remember? Did you hear anything they said? Did the man have scars? A tattoo?"

  Rudy looked excited. "On his hand, right here." He rubbed his knuckles. "He had something on his hand. I'd never seen it before."

  Jonas tried for several more minutes to extract information, but Rudy clearly knew nothing else. He was willing to make it up if Jonas wanted him to, for the picture, but he really didn't remember anything else.

  "I'll see that she gets your flowers, Rudy, unless you want to leave them at the fence with everyone else's," Jonas offered.

  Rudy took the flowers back and put them in front of all the other arrangements, facing toward the windows of the Drake house. "She can see them here. Are you getting my picture now?"

  "Yes. Would you mind standing back behind the fence now, so the security people won't be worried?"

  Rudy walked back through the gate and pressed close. "You'll get it signed?"

  Jonas nodded and hurried away, snagging Matt, who was patrolling the fence-line with a couple of the other men in the family and the security they'd hired.

  "Have you seen Jackson around?"

  Matt indicated up the hill. "He thought he saw a couple of reporters climbing the fence and went in that direction to check it out."

  Jonas swore softly. "Why won't they all go home?"

  "I don't think it's going to happen for a while," Matt said. "But the businesses in Sea Haven are flourishing. Every hotel is filled and the stores and cafes are making out like bandits. I think the prices are tripled."

  "So I've heard." Jonas scraped his hand over his jaw. "Tell Jackson we need to review all the tapes again--the ones the stations shot of the crowd outside both the fashion show and the party."

  "You think you got some new information?"

  Jonas shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

  Chapter Twelve

  THE Drakes were waiting for him in the living room--all but Hannah. They knew he was angry by the line of his body. Sarah leapt up to intercept him as he started to the staircase, but he held up his hand to stop her, flashing her one, emotion-laden look.

  "Don't," he warned.

  She hesitated. "Tell us, Jonas."

  He glanced over her head to Joley. "You take care of that one." He jerked his head toward her. "And I'll take care of Hannah." He cast one more furious look at Joley and hurried up the stairs to Hannah's room.

  The door was closed and locked and this time he didn't bother knocking. The hell with it. He began working on the lock. Joley came up behind him with Sarah.

  "You have to leave her alone, Jonas. It was too much for her, facing Prakenskii like that," Sarah said. "She needs to rest."

  "And you need to mind your own business. Hannah's a grown woman. She's my woman." He made the declaration as he freed the lock, opened the door and stepped in, closing it on Sarah's furious face.

  Hannah was pulling clothes from her dresser, tears streaming down her face as she stuffed them into the small sports bag she had open on the bed. He could see the fatigue and the dark circles around her eyes. His heart twisted in spite of his anger. Hannah was a woman of such contrasts. She appeared fragile and delicate, yet had a core of steel. She had panic attacks, yet courageously defended her sisters. She was shy, but made herself into a public icon.

  He would never, as long as he lived, get over seeing her come into the room, head up, her face slashed deep and raw, but her eyes steady as she faced Prakenskii with such regal dignity. He knew it cost her pride. He knew she didn't want to be seen. But she had stood up to all of them and insisted on being treated as an adult. He had never been prouder of her. Yet here he was, about to chew her out. Again. He sighed.
>
  She looked up, her wet eyelashes spiky, nearly breaking his heart. Her hand went defensively to her throat--where three deliberate slashes had been made, damaging her vocal cords for all time. He wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her close.

  "Get out," she said. "You have to get out and leave me alone."

  Fury swept through him. So much for good intentions. He slammed the door closed again, this time against Joley as she attempted to enter, and turned the lock, crossing the room in three swift strides.

  "What the hell did you think you were doing, Hannah?" Jonas caught her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. "Do you like playing with fire? I told you to stay away from Rudy Venturi. He may seem harmless, but he's living a fantasy and you don't know what could happen if his fantasy is disrupted."

  "Jonas!" Sarah protested, from the other side of the door. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to beat her, that's what I'm doing," Jonas snapped. "Why can't you, just once, go along with something I say, Hannah? That man is loony tunes and you're bringing him a signed photograph personally! I know what I'm talking about when I tell you about security, but no, you just have to defy me." His eyes darkened, blazed down at her upturned face as he gave her another shake, anger sweeping through him, building and building as the images of a knife slashing at her while he was thousands of miles away played in his head. "You do whatever everyone else tells you like some damned puppet, but me, you have to argue and defy me at every turn. Even if you're taking a chance with your life."

  "Stop it, Jonas," Joley called, pounding on the door. "Stop it. You sound like you're going to hurt her."

  "I'd never hurt her," Jonas declared, abruptly letting Hannah go. "Get the hell away from here, Joley. You, too, Sarah. This is between Hannah and me."

  "I'm fine, Joley," Hannah assured her. "Leave us."

  "Are you sure, Hannah?" Sarah asked. "You don't have to put up with him yelling at you."

  "I don't interfere between you and Damon, Sarah," Jonas hissed. "Do us the same courtesy. Go away." He shoved both hands through his hair, waiting to hear the fading footsteps before he glared at Hannah. "Damn it. Why would you risk your safety like that?"