“But I can’t do that unless you are. What are you going to do after your shower?”

“I’m going to go down to the library and have a couple of drinks. Then I’m going to sit and plan how I’m going to kill Volkov in the most painful and humiliating way possible.”

“That sounds productive. Are you going to talk to Rennell?”

“Not tonight, maybe tomorrow.”

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?”

“Lord, no! He’d have you driving him out there to see for himself. And any plans I made would be literally shot to hell.” He shook his head again. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you? Why don’t you curl up on the couch in the library? I can meet you there in half an hour, and you can watch me either get stinking drunk or come up with a master plan.” He started back up the stairs. “Or go to bed, which would work better for you.”

“I’ll see you in half an hour, Tanner. And I promise I won’t be annoying.”

He looked back over his shoulder, and that rare smile lit his face. “I know you won’t.”

* * *

When he came into the library later, she’d already lit the fireplace and was curled up on the couch, waiting.

He stopped inside the door. “You’re a glutton for punishment.”

“No, I’m not. Or I’d have gone to bed and lain there worrying about you. I’m much better off sitting quietly and listening to you if you want to talk. You did say I was company.”

“In my usual complimentary fashion.” He headed for the bar. “You’re a hell of a lot more than that.” He poured himself a drink. “I’d offer you a drink, but you’d probably take it just to be accommodating.”

“Maybe. But I did make a pot of coffee, too.” She held up her cup. “I wasn’t sure what you’d need.”

“But you wanted to supply it.”

“You’re hurting. I know how that feels. But I’ve always had Maria.” She paused. “I think Sandrino was your Maria.”

“So now you want to mother me?”

She shook her head. “I just don’t want you to hurt anymore. That hurt me, too.” She added with a sad smile, “And that was not okay.”

“No, it wasn’t.” He poured himself another whiskey. “I don’t think I could take that at the moment.” He sat down in the desk chair. “So I’ll take one more drink and move on to phase two.”

“Volkov,” she said. “You were halfway there anyway, weren’t you?”

He nodded. “But I wasn’t entirely sure how deep a score I’d owe him. I knew he’d have to pay for what he’d done to you. I didn’t have proof about Sandrino.” He finished off his drink. “And I didn’t know about all those innocent people that he’d tortured and killed.”

“I didn’t, either. I knew that he enjoyed causing pain, but I didn’t know he’d made it a hobby.” She shivered. “Maybe I should have guessed.”