“Very good. But you won’t know it until I’m quite sure that I’m right. It might be a delicate situation.” He chuckled as Tanner cursed. “But I will tell you that you’re at least on the right continent. Good night, Tanner.” He cut the connection.

Bastard. Kaskov had enjoyed that a little too much. He jammed the phone into his pocket and poured himself another whiskey. Then he opened the French doors and went out on the veranda. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of the lilac bushes that Sandrino had Rennell plant along the edge of the veranda. He took a deep breath. How often had he sat out here with Sandrino and laughed and talked and played a hand or two of cards with him before he went up to bed…

Shit!

The memories had brought back all the raw pain he’d felt when Kaskov had casually mentioned the possibility of Sandrino’s death. Why had it hit him so hard when Kaskov had only stated what Tanner had already known had to be true? He’d accepted it long ago. But there had been the barest chance that somehow Sandrino had pulled a trick out of his hat and would be somewhere in the world for him to find. There was still that hope, but Kaskov had made him realize how slim it was.

“Mallory just assigned extra guards to the perimeter. Why?”

Tanner turned to see Sam Rennell coming down the path toward the house. That was all he needed right now, he thought impatiently as he automatically braced himself. “It was just a cautionary move. Probably not needed. I just got a bit of disturbing news and I thought it best.”

Rennell’s gaze went to the upper windows of the bedroom suites. “About the woman?”

“In a way.” Rennell wasn’t going to let him get away without knowing more. Why should he? Tanner would have felt the same way. “There was an attack at the Connecticut airport. I have to be sure that she’s still safe here.”

“You know she’s safe. We’ve always been safe here. It’s not like you to worry.” His gaze was searching Tanner’s face. “It’s something else. You’re upset. Talk to me. It’s about Sandrino?”

“Isn’t it always?” He lifted his glass. “That’s the only thing we’ve had in common since the day Sandrino dumped me into your life. Yes, it’s about Lara Balkon, and it’s about Sandrino. I made a deal to get the information I needed if I protected her. So you’ll have to excuse me if I take an extra step to keep her alive.” He took a sip of whiskey. “And I’m upset because I might get her killed for no good reason. We both know that Sandrino is probably dead.”