Sidney Sheldon's Chasing Tomorrow (Tracy Whitney #2)(108)

“You spoke to Cooper!” Milton Buck glared at him accusingly.

“Early yesterday, yes. There was a brief window when he was still lucid. He was quite forthcoming about the Bible killings.” Jean smiled. “Of course, that was before the second stroke.”

“Why wasn’t I informed! I heard about Cooper’s arrest on the goddamn Bulgarian radio news! My case—”

“—is not important,” said Rizzo. “Not compared to what’s gone on here. Not compared to thirteen lives lost. Besides, you’ve got Elizabeth Kennedy, haven’t you?”

“Elizabeth only took half the money. Daniel Cooper had the other half. If we don’t recover those assets—”

“What? You won’t get your promotion?” Jean gave Milton a conciliatory pat on the shoulders. “That’s too bad, man.”

“The case isn’t closed!” Milton Buck said furiously. “If Daniel Cooper can’t help me trace the missing McMenemy Pissarro, or the Neil Lane jewels he stole from the Chicago store, then your little girlfriend Tracy Whitney’s going to have to fill in the gaps.”

Rizzo’s eyes narrowed. “Leave Tracy out of this. She knows nothing.”

“She knows how these scumbags think.”

“You made a deal,” said Jean, “when Tracy delivered Elizabeth Kennedy to you on a platter. She had immunity. Remember?”

“ ‘Had’ is the operative word, I’m afraid. You didn’t seriously think the federal government was going to wave good-bye to hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of stolen goods just to stay in the good graces of a wanted con artist, did you?”

Jean Rizzo glared at Milton Buck but said nothing.

“Speaking of Tracy, where is she?” Buck asked, smiling. “Perhaps you’d like to go and tell your little girlfriend that I’d like a word? Right now, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“She’s gone.”

The smile died on Buck’s lips.

“What do you mean, gone?”

“I mean she left the hospital last night and switched off her phone. I haven’t heard from her since. I went to her hotel this morning but they told me she’d checked out.”

“I don’t believe you. Not even you would be so incompetent as to let a key asset like Whitney slip through your fingers.”

Jean Rizzo shrugged. “I really don’t care what you believe, Agent Buck. And for the record, Tracy isn’t an asset. She’s a friend. If it hadn’t been for her, Jeff Stevens would be dead and Daniel Cooper would still be out there killing women. Check her hotel yourself if you don’t believe me. It’s the Britannia, on—”

“I know where she’s staying, you moron! I’ve had her under surveillance for months.”

“Pity you didn’t pick her up earlier, then, isn’t it?”

Jean walked away, leaving the FBI agent spluttering in his wake.

A FEW MINUTES LATER Jean knocked on the door of Jeff Stevens’s room. When there was no answer, he went inside.

Stevens was heavily tranquilized and sleeping like a baby. He was out of the woods now, according to the doctors, and was expected to make a full recovery. But he hadn’t been fully conscious for more than a few seconds since he was brought in.

Tracy was asleep in a chair next to his bed. She looked so peaceful, Jean felt bad waking her up. But he knew he had to. Shaking her gently by the shoulders, he told her about his exchange with Agent Buck.


“You need to leave here. As soon as possible. Get a flight out of Bulgaria today.”

Tracy looked stricken. “What about Jeff? He hasn’t woken up yet, not truly. He doesn’t even know I was here.”

“I’ll tell him,” Jean said kindly. “When he comes to I’ll need to question him. I’ll tell him everything.”

Tracy hesitated. There were things she needed to tell Jeff. Many, many things. Although she still had no real idea where she should begin.

“If I write a note, will you give it to him?” she asked Jean.

“Of course. But you need to hurry, Tracy. Buck’s not kidding around. If he finds you here, he’ll arrest you.”

Tracy nodded. She had already started to write.

“Where will you go?” asked Jean.

Tracy seemed surprised by the question. “Home, of course. To Nicholas.”

“You can’t stay there, you know,” said Jean. “Buck will find you. He’ll force you to work for him. You need to grab your son and get out. Start again somewhere new, somewhere far away.”

Tracy shook her head. “I can’t do that. Colorado is Nick’s home. I can’t raise my son on the run.”

“But, Tracy . . .”

She smiled, kissing Jean Rizzo on the cheek. “I’ll take my chances. You worry too much, Jean, you know that?”

Three hours later, Tracy was on a plane.

Three days later, Jeff Stevens woke up and read Tracy’s letter.

Three months later, Jeff watched as Dr. Elena Dragova signed his release papers.

“We’ll miss you,” Dr. Dragova told him.

“I’ll miss you too. Especially Sister Katia. You will give her my love?”

The surgeon laughed. “You’re incorrigible. Where will you go? I hope you have someone prepared to take care of you. Or at least to put up with you.”