Ian felt the small hairs rise at the back of his neck. His hands tightened on the arm of the chair as he listened to what sounded like drums and chanting.

"What"s going on, Jamee?" Adam demanded.

"Sorry, Adam. They"re having some sort of ceremony here."

"No more walking on coals, I hope," William called.

"Is that you, William?" His sister laughed delightedly. "No, the firewalk was in India. By the way, William, how many alien droids have you demolished today?"

Williams eyes gleamed. "Sixty-one."

"So the boy genius is losing his touch, is he? Last month it was over two hundred."

As Jamee Night"s throaty laughter filled the room, touching every corner with sunlight, Ian felt his body tighten. He wanted to stand up and walk out, away from temptation.

Away from the sound of that vibrant, unforgettable laughter.

William leaned toward the phone. "No way. This is a new program I designed. The old one was too easy."

"Show-off. So send me a sample and I"ll test-rate it for you. You know I always beat you in the hard levels, where flexible thinking is required." Her voice rose against the constant drumming. "Adam, are you still there?"

"Right here."

"Is Bennett there?"

Adam slanted a glance at William. "No, Bennett ducked out of this business trip. He"s minding the store in San Francisco."

"I"ve got good news for him. I"ve found a place here in Bali that will manufacture those voice-synthesizer units he wanted. A long-term contract will give the village some economic stability. After the weather they"ve had, they desperately need any help they can get. They"ll need a turnkey operation and close initial guidance, but they"re skilled in general circuitry already. Send over the specs, will you?"

Ian frowned. The woman was smart, as well as having an amazing voice.

Not that either would influence him in the slightest.

Adam chuckled. "Can we skip the finder"s fee since it"s all in the family?"

"Dream on, big brother," Jamee said. "How else am I going to finance all this traveling in search of new fibers for my weaving?" Abruptly, the drumming rose in a roar, drowning out Jamee"s voice.

Against every inclination, Ian found himself sitting forward, straining for her next words.

There was only the sound of drums.

"Jamee, are you still there?" Adam demanded.

"I"m afraid I have to go, Adam. The chief is offering some kind of boar"s head."

"When will you be back?" Adam asked tightly.

"I"ll finish up next week. Did I tell you I found a county where they can make up silk cocoons to my special design? They were burning the broken cocoons in the fields to keep away the birds. Burning silkworm cocoons, can you imagine that? Now I"ve really got to go. The chief"s son is about to model one of my ikat sarongs. He"s got great teeth, did I tell you? And he has this amazing tattoo that runs across his back and all the way down to his-"

Adam shot a glance at Ian and hid a smile. "I can guess exactly where it runs. Just you be careful over there."

"Be careful of men with tattoos," William called out urgently. "You can"t trust them for a second."

"You have a tattoo, William," his sister answered.

"Yeah, that"s why I"m so worried."

"I love you idiots. Go find Bennett and play a game of touch football. While you do, think of me carving up a boar"s head. Heavens, now they"re bringing some kind of roasted insect that looks like an overgrown cockroach. I think I"m going to have to look honored with the gift.

Talk to you next week."

"From where?" William bent closer, frowning.

"Java."

"But you said-"

The line clicked off in a burst of static. Ian sat back slowly, aware of a strange letdown in the wake of Jamee Night"s call.No, McCall. Out of the bloody question.

"So she"s headed to Java." Scowling, Adam rubbed his jaw. "As I recall, that"s an island southeast of Sumatra. Population roughly sixty million with the major language group being- "

"Dammit, Adam, doesn"t itbother you?" William exploded. "She"s wandering around the world, taking risks we can"t even imagine and allyou can do is quote language groups and population figures!"

Adam"s sculpted features turned fierce. Ian realized this was a man he would not care to meet as an enemy.

"Yes, William, it bothers me deeply. As my friend Nicholas knows, I would cut off my right hand to have Jamee back, just as you would. But she must come back becauseshe chooses to- not because we want her to."

William sighed and ran his hands through his long hair. "You"re right, of course. You usually are. Okay, so why don"t we make her want to come back? Tell her you"re gettingmarried or something."

"Married?" Adam"s brow rose. "Me?"

"Okay, so make it something that"s believable."

"And lie to Jamee?" Adam shook his head. "She"d hate it and she"d hate us when she found out. We"ll just have to find someone to shadow her, someone who will see that she"s protected at all times in Scotland. Nicholson"s team is with her in Asia, but we"ll need someone different when she gets over here. I"m hoping that person is you, Mr. McCall. Sir George Rolland told me you"re the best man he has and I believe him."

Ian studied the woman smiling in the photo. "How long?" he asked, thinking he should have his sanity checked.

"Four weeks. No more than five," Adam said promptly. "She is expected back home in San Francisco by Christmas, and she"d never miss that."

"And during this time, your sister is not to know who I am and what I"m really doing?"

Adam nodded.

"How much?" Ian said flatly, using practicality to justify a totally irrational inclination based on nothing more than a pair of vibrant eyes and a laugh that could warm a subzero freezer.

"A quarter of a million pounds for four weeks. Extra for any time beyond that."

"Terence would have liked you. I"ll double that amount," William added calmly.

Ian gave a silent whistle. "A man could make a lot of plans with money like that." Abruptly, he stood up. "But it makes no difference. I can"t take this job."

Nicholas cursed softly. "Ian, is there something you want to tell me? Nothing you say will leave this room."

The hiss and pop of the fire suddenly seemed very loud.

Ian stiffened. Then he slowly shook his head.

Adam Night pulled a rectangular box from his briefcase. His gaze flickered to Nicholas as he moved to the television.

"Adam, no," William snapped. "Not that."

"Yes. I told you I"d do whatever was necessary to keep Jamee safe." Ignoring William"s outstretched hand, Adam pulled a videocassette from the box and pushed it into the VCR.

Ian closed his eyes, knowing he didn"t want to see the tape. He wasnot getting involved. These people needed a man who was sharp and confident.

A man at the peak of his form.

"This will change nothing," Ian muttered.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Adam pressed a button and the tape gears began to spin.

"I refuse to watch. I refuse to be a part ofany of this," William hissed. He strode angrily from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ian frowned as black-and-white images flickered across the screen. His eyes narrowed when he heard a faint feminine whimper coming from what appeared to be a hospital room with a bed and two chairs.

"If this doesn"t convince you, nothing can, Mr. McCall," Adam said bleakly.

The video zoomed in on the bed, where a figure lay motionless beneath white sheets.

"I meant what I said, Night. I cannot possibly..." Ian"s voice trailed off as he saw the face resting upon the pillow, the long hair that slid over one shoulder.

Jamee Night.

Something hard and cold clawed at Ian"s chest. Feeling like the worst kind of voyeur, he swung around toward Adam. "I"m beginning to agree with your brother. I"m leaving."

Adam"s eyes were pleading. "Stay. Just for a few moments. If you can forget what you see, so be it."

The woman in the picture began to move, slowly at first, then more urgently. One hand gripped the edge of the bed, her fingers raking the white sheets.

Sweat broke out on Ian"s forehead.It doesn"t matter, he told himself. He couldn"t allow himself to care.

The sleeping woman moaned softly and shoved away the top cover. The camera panned over the scene, leaving the dark circles under her eyes clearly visible.

"Where is she?" Ian asked.

"In the sleep-disorder clinic of a major New York hospital," Adam said quietly. "My sister wanted to be cured, Mr. McCall. She wanted to forget. So she checked in, hoping to get some answers. This is the tape of her first night there."

Ian watched Jamee Night grip the neck of her hospital pajamas. Her eyes squeezed shut in terror as she dug her fingers beneath the stiff cotton. With a ragged sob she twisted sideways, tore away the top button, and tried desperately to claw free of the garment.

"She"s smothering, Mr. McCall," Adam explained grimly. "She relives being locked in a closet. And she"ll have to confront worse things than these nightmares if this threat turns out to be real."

Ian cursed, unable to look away. His hands tightened on the arm of his chair. "Turn if off."

"Not yet. I want you to see how they left her. Then tell me no, Mr. McCall."

Jamee continued to tear at her pajama top. Wrenching her arms free, she tossed the garment onto the floor. Ian saw her strain against invisible walls.

"Dammit, Night, that"s enough. Turn the damn thing off."

"Jamee has these dreams at least once a month," Adam said, ignoring Ian"s protest. "More, if she"s under stress."

"I don"t care," Ian growled as Jamee pushed to her knees, huddled against the head of the bed.

For the first time, her eyes opened, wide and dilated, staring at a point just above the camera.

Ian realized she saw nothing but her dreams. He watched her struggle free of her pajama bottoms and throw them away. Her slender body was covered by a white cotton bodysuit. Ian felt a sick sense of fury as she struggled mechanically to stand, then tottered to the floor. She moved awkwardly, straining against invisible barriers like a mime in a horror show.

Ian strode to the VCR, slammed the tape to a halt, and ejected the cartridge. "What if I tell her you showed this to me?"

Adam flinched, but did not look away. "I"ll bear the consequences. You"re the best, McCall.

That"s why I want you to protect my sister."

"I told you it was impossible."

"But you didn"t say why."

"The reason is irrelevant." But though he"d stopped the tape, Ian continued to see Jamee"s pale face and jerky movements. He called himself a bloody fool as he fingered the file Adam had given him. "This file says that she was once engaged to be married. What happened?"

Adam shrugged. "Apparently they decided to stay friends instead. I got the impression that Jamee wasn"t ready for anything more...intense."

"Did her fiance feel the same way? Maybe he took the news a little harder."

"As in considering retaliation? No way. Noel Shipton-Jones is too busy with his limited partnerships and wholly owned subsidiaries to be bothered by a minor thing like being cut adrift by his fiancee."

"Where"s he now?"

"In France, pitching a huge contract for computerized maintenance services on the Channel tunnel. There"s no way he could be a suspect. Noel"s a junior partner with one of the biggest computer firms in the world."

"Have you checked for criminal background or drug use? Possible debts from an expensive mistress or a hidden gambling problem? Any of those might make him consider a quick fix for his problems. Given his prior contacts with Jamee, he"d have the opportunity. When you add motive to opportunity, generally you"ve got your man."

Adam frowned. "They still talk occasionally. I"ll look into it, but-"

"No buts. In a kidnapping, everyone"s a suspect. Even family." Ian laughed mirthlessly.

"Especiallyfamily."

"Not in this case," Nicholas interrupted. "I know Noel."