Part 17 (1/2)

Sure enough, there was a half-open door she hadn't noticed. They had toilets by 1884, didn't they? She hadn't seen any in Guatemala, but then again Liam hadn't paused in any populated area long enough for her to find out. And there would surely be a bathtuba”good Lord, a soak would be paradise after weeks on s.h.i.+pboard and traveling through the wilderness, s.n.a.t.c.hing quick and modest baths in rivers or settling for a hasty sponging.

”I trust you find the accommodations satisfactory?” Liam asked.

”It's beautiful. Thank you.”

”Then I must go.”

She was startled into full attention. This was happening too fast. If he was planning to leave her alreadya ”Where?” she demanded, pus.h.i.+ng forward on the bed. ”I thought you saida”” She broke off at the look on his face.

Whatever gentleness he'd shown her a few moments ago was gone. He was all grim determination again, from the stony bleakness of his gray eyes to the hard set of his jaw. ”I have business that's been awaiting my attention since we left Tikal.”

And she knew, then. She knew what business was so important that he wouldn't wait one minute longer than necessary to see to it. The business he'd never forgotten during their journey, no matter how little he'd revealed his preoccupation to his unwanted companion.

”Perry,” she said. ”You're going for Perry, aren't you?”

The full force of his attention fell on her like a physical blow. ”Worried, Mac? For me, or for him?”

She planted her feet on the floor and stood. ”You still have no proof that he tried toa””

”I'll have it, soon enough,” he said. He jammed on his hat and turned on his heel. ”Make yourself comfortable. A meal will be sent up to you shortly.”

Mac had sworn to herself that she wasn't going to beg, but all of a sudden her pride didn't seem quite so important anymore. ”Then you're just going to abandon me herea””

He stopped with his hand on the k.n.o.b. ”Don't worry. I'll be back soon enough. Oh, and I wouldn't advise that you think of leaving. It's a dangerous city out there.”

The door rattled as it slammed shut.

Mac stood very still long after he'd gone, listening to the echoing hollow of her thoughts. She walked carefully to the bed and sat down again. Thinking on her feet wasn't such a hot idea when her knees were shaking so much.

Okay, Mac. What now?

Liam was out of reach, undoubtedly on his way to do something rash and hazardous. And now she wasn't with him toa what? Stop him? Protect him?

She pushed to her feet and marched to the window. Old San Francisco spread out before her in an undulating surface of square rooftops, punctuated by the occasional church spire or belching smokestack. It ran northward from the flats of the Financial District, up and over the hills and all the way to the Bay. From here the view of sparkling water was unimpeded and magnificent and utterly terrifying.

As she'd done so many times before, Mac pulled the Maya pendant from beneath her s.h.i.+rt and held the cool stone in her hand. This was it. Either she'd collapse in a useless heap or take up the gauntlet and find a way to do what she had to do.

Somewhere out there Peregrine Sinclair, her own great-great-grandfather, was going about the business of courting Caroline Gresham. Was he a murderer who'd kill a good friend for the sake of a womana”or her fortune? It seemed too incredible, but Liam believed it. And so, it seemed, had Homer.

If it were true, Perry wouldn't be expecting Liam's return. There was no telling what he might do once he realized his attempt had faileda”or what Liam would do to him.

She turned from the window and went to the bathroom. It had a toilet and bathtub and sink, everything antique and fancy but recognizable and presumably functional. She turned on the faucet in the wood and marble washstand and splashed two palmfuls of cold water over her face.

Think, Mac. You've got to come up with somethinga A discreet tapping came at the main door. Mac s.n.a.t.c.hed a towel hung beside the sink and rushed across the room, remembering to a.s.sume a little dignity before she answered the knock.

But it wasn't Liam. It was a young man in a dark suit with a wheeled cart spread with covered platters, cut crystal goblets, and ornate silver. Room service of a degree Mac had never seen in her life.

As she was something the young man hadn't seen often. His gaze took in her jeans and s.h.i.+rt and traveled to her flushed skin and tousled hair.

”Your dinner, ma'am,” he said. ”As ordered. Will there be anything else?”

The young man's expression told Mac all she needed to know about her appearance. It was a shame she didn't have anything in her possession that resembled the local currency, but she doubted the banks of 1884 would accept traveler's checks so she could go out and buy herself a dress.

”Thanks,” she said slowly. ”As a matter of fact, I think there is something you could help me with. I need to find out where someone lives. My, uh, cousina”Peregrine Sinclair.”

Ah. The waiter obviously recognized the name, though his face didn't exactly light up at the mention of it. ”May I ask why, ma'am?”

Strange question from a hotel employee, but she'd have to play along. ”Well, I'm aa stranger in town, and I was hoping to pay him a visit this evening. I seem to have lost his address.”

Abruptly the young man pushed the food cart into the room and backed away, casting an uneasy glance over his shoulder. ”I'm sorry, ma'am,” he muttered. ”I can't help you.”

She squeezed past the cart and started to follow him out the door. ”Maybe you could find someone who cana””

But he was already retreating, and another person had stepped into his vacant place. Mac looked upa”and upa”at a rather large man in a gray suit who blocked her path as effectively as a locked door.

”Who are you?” she demanded.

The bruiser removed his hat. ”I'm sorry, miss,” he said. ”Mr. O'Shea said you were to remain in your room.”

Two and two came together fairly quickly in Mac's brain. ”There must be some mistake.”

He looked her up and down, much as the waiter had done, and his expression was just as dubious. ”I have orders. Mr. O'Shea said you'd be safer here, until he comes back.”

Mr. O'Shea said, and apparently his word was law. This was Liam's city, and she didn't have the slightest idea how far his wealtha”and his influencea”might reach.

Far enough, evidently, to hire a thug to guard her door and make sure she didn't escape. ”So Mr. O'Shea wants to keep me safe, does he?” she muttered.

The guard shrugged and replaced his hat. ”You're to be comfortable, miss. You can have anything else you want.”

Anything but freedom. So much for Liam's generous impulses. ”I don't suppose you have any c.o.ke machines, do you?”

But any petty satisfaction at the guard's momentary confusion didn't make her feel better. He stepped forward, herding her back into the room, and gripped the doork.n.o.b.

”If you need anything, miss, I'll be right outside. Enjoy your meal.” He closed the door firmly, if gently, in her face.

Mac turned from the door and b.u.mped into the food cart. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that her last meal had been scanty and many hours ago. Well, she had to eat, if only to keep up her strength.

The dishes under their silver covers were recognizable enough: some kind of meat in a rich sauce, a salad, soup, potatoes, vegetables, sh.e.l.lfish, and a small decanter of what smelled like wine. The latter was particularly tempting, but she pa.s.sed on it. A clear head was what she needed now.

The one thing she was sure of was that Liam was coming back. And when he did, there was going to be a reckoning.

Chapter Eleven.

The strongest of all warriors are these twoa”

Time and Patience.