Berry, Steve - Cotton Malone 09 - The Lincoln Myth by Berry Steve

Author:Berry, Steve [Berry, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-345-52659-5
Publisher: Random House Inc.
Published: 2014-05-20T04:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-NINE

SALZBURG

11:50 P.M.

MALONE LAY ON THE BED IN HIS HOTEL ROOM, LEGS CROSSED, hands laced together behind his head. Fatigue had hit him like a wave, but sleep was elusive. He chided himself for his fears and worries. Hated the nagging ache of doubt in his gut. He could not remember being in a stranger situation. But he hadn’t allowed a woman into his life for some time. The final five years of his marriage to Pam had been anything but intimate. They were more like strangers living together, both realizing that the relationship was over, neither one of them wanting to do anything about it. Finally Pam had forced the issue by moving out. Eventually he ended the estrangement by divorcing her, retiring from the government, quitting his job, and leaving Georgia for Denmark.

He could work a mission with Swiss precision—plotting, planning, and executing exactly what needed to be done. Yet he faltered like an amateur when it came to emotions. He simply could not make the right call at the right time. He’d messed up with Pam. Now he wondered if he was repeating the mistake with Cassiopeia.

A light rap disturbed the silence.

He’d been hoping she’d visit.

He opened the door and Cassiopeia walked inside.

“Stephanie told me where you were,” she said. “I’m not happy with her or you right now.”

“Nice to see you, too.”

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Ran out of stuff to do. Thought I’d come and see what you were up to.” He could see she was not in the mood for sarcasm. Neither was he, actually. “You’re a long way from your castle.”

“I realize I lied to you. It was necessary.”

“Apparently so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can let it mean whatever you want it to.”

“I took a chance coming here,” she said. “But I thought we should talk.”

He sat on the edge of the bed.

She remained standing.

“Why did you buy that book?” she asked.

“The president of the United States told me to.” He could see she was unaware of Daniels’ involvement. “Stephanie left that tidbit out? Get used to it. You’re going to be told only what they want you to know.”

She wasn’t her usual self. Her eyes were elusive, her voice flat.

“Why are you here?” he asked her.

“I thought I was helping clear the name of an old friend. Now I’m not so sure.”

Time they lay all the cards on the table. “He’s more than an old friend.”

“He was my first love. We were supposed to marry. Our parents wanted that so much. But I ended it.”

“You never mentioned him. Or that you were Mormon.”

“Neither seemed relevant to anything between us. My parents were Mormon, and I was born one. Once they died, I left the religion. And Josepe.”

He wondered again how much she’d heard in the catacombs. “How long were you outside the chapel?”

Her eyes stayed cold. “Not long.”

“You didn’t hear him admit he killed our agent?”

“No, I didn’t. And it’s a lie. Stephanie said the same thing.”

Her denial sent through his mind the sight of her kissing Salazar.

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