Well, maybe they needed unorthodox. He had no faith in any psychiatrist, but he'd do anything if it meant getting Cassie back.
And keeping her safe.
And to keep her safe he needed information, the information Michael Travis might be able to give him.
Where the devil was Travis?
Chapter Two
Amsterdam
Was he being followed?
Travis's heart jumped as he saw the shadowy figure in the darkness behind him.
He cut down Kerkstraat to Leidsestraat, went through an alley, and then ran two blocks north. His breath was labored as he ducked into an alcove and waited.
No one.
He moved quickly down the street. Ten minutes later he was climbing the steps to his flat. He checked the door for booby traps, then flung it open.
Darkness.
He always left the lights on. He whirled and tore down the stairs.
"Is that any way to treat an old friend?" Sean Galen was leaning over the banister. "You'd think you didn't want to see me."
"You turned the lights off, damn you." Travis started back up.
"I was resting my eyes. I've had a long day." He grinned. "Besides, I wanted to see how sharp you were. You're a little on edge."
"A little." He followed Galen into the flat and closed the door. "What are you doing in Amsterdam? I thought you were going back to California."
" I was about to take off from Paris when I happened on a bit of information. Since you've been on the fly and incommunicado since Vasaro, it took almost a week to locate you." His smile faded. "You have blood on your temple."
"Do I?" He went into the bathroom and washed his face. "Just a scrape."
"Maybe made by a bullet whistling a little too close?"
He didn't answer as he dabbed at his face with the towel. "How did you find me?"