Quicksand (30 page)

"As I said, he may have buried her somewhere else on the island." He paused. "Or he may not have buried her here at all. There was no Bonnie trophy in that memory box. We think that box was only for the island. We have to find any other souvenir box he might have had."

"Or he may not have been the one who killed her," she whispered. "But I was so sure this time."

"So was I." He drew a harsh breath. "God, I don't know if I can go on with this—" He stopped. "It may not be the end of the trail with Kistle. I won't give up yet. Go on back to the cottage. I'm going to go back to my precinct to make a report there. We think most of the victims were from Atlanta, and bodies will be sent to our medical examiner for identification and DNA tests. We won't know what kind of records to check until we find out how long ago they were killed."

"Publish the names Kistle had on his labels and I'll bet you'll be flooded with calls from parents with missing children." Eve shook her head. "What am I thinking? That would be the worst way to find out your child has been murdered. Until the last minute they'll be hoping that their baby is alive and happy somewhere."

"I'll be back at the cottage as soon as I'm through and I'll call you if I find out anything more. Will you be all right?"

"Yes." She made an effort. "Don't worry about me, Joe. It's not as if I haven't been disappointed before. Do what you have to do."

He muttered a curse. "How can I help but worry? How long can you take this? How long can I take it? It's been going on for—" He was silent a moment, but she could sense the tension and despondency charging the stillness. "I'll call you." He hung up. She pressed the disconnect button. Yes, how long could Joe take it? she thought wearily. The desperation he was feeling was even more obvious than it had been before. She would go on forever because she could do nothing else. Bonnie was the beloved. She could no more stop searching than she could not draw breath.

But Joe may have reached the end of the line. Who could blame him? He could not share her love for Bonnie, only the pain connected with her death.

Don't think of it right now. Drive to the lake cottage and let the beauty soothe you as it has done for years.

Heal and think and hope.

Oh, yes, by all means hope.

IT WAS CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT
when Eve arrived back at the cottage. It was too late to pick up Toby at Patty's, but she wished she had him with her. She felt lonely and uncertain and wanted a warm body to press against her.

"I'm sorry about Bonnie," Montalvo said.

She whirled to the porch swing where he was sitting. "You startled me." She turned on the porch lights. "How did you know about Bonnie?"

"I was on the island. I thought they might need my digging prowess. I seem to have become an expert lately." He shook his head. "I could have done without that particular skill. It was enough to break my heart."

"Joe says she may still be somewhere on the island."

"But you don't believe it."

"I don't know. I want to believe it." She rubbed her temple. "What are you doing here, Montalvo?"

"I dropped Miguel off at the hospital and I came here to pack up our camp. I was afraid he'd try to do it himself if I brought him with me."

"That's right. I forgot about the camp. It seems a long time ago."

"And I wanted to see you before Joe, the conquering hero, appeared back on the stage." She stiffened. "No, Montalvo."

"Yes, Eve." He held out his hand. "Come and sit down. You promised me my time with you." That's right, she had promised him. That seemed a long time ago too. She slowly moved across the porch toward him. "I haven't changed my mind." She sat down on the swing beside him. "And I won't change it."

"You might. Time passes, life changes. But I'm not here to bulldoze you. Life has made another jog that changes the picture a little."

"What jog?"

He looked out at the lake. "Quinn saved me from a very nasty death. He didn't have to do it. God knows, he didn't want to do it. But the fact remains that he did do it. That puts me in a quandary."

"Why?"

"Because I find myself reluctant to be as ruthless toward him as I would ordinarily." He made a face. "Miguel tells me that he has to take care of me because I saved his neck. I laughed at him. It's absurd."

"Is it?"

"Yes. But I'm feeling a ridiculous sense of responsibility for Quinn. I'd never call myself an honorable man. Yet I have a code that I live by and it's getting in the way." She frowned. "What are you saying, Montalvo?"

"I'm saying I have to let you go for now."

"You never had me."

He smiled. "I did in my mind. It was only a matter of time until I made it into reality."

"Bull."

He chuckled. "I love that bluntness of yours." He took her hand. "No, don't pull away. I deserve this. Now I'll tell you how it's going to be. I can't let you go entirely. We're much too close. So I've decided to become your Joe's best friend."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"It won't be difficult. We have a good deal in common. I'm beginning to like him."

"I don't think it's mutual."

"Then that will be my new challenge." He was playing idly with her fingers. "I will be your friend. I will be Joe Quinn's friend. You'll both come to admire and rely on me. Isn't that a fine plan?"

"It's a fine fairy tale," Eve said dryly.

"And like all fairy tales it can have wicked twists," he said softly. "If I'm lucky enough to save Quinn's life at some point, then the story changes again. No more obligations. If he turns into a wife beater, then I kill him and we ride off into the sunset. You agree?"

"This is your fairy tale, not mine."

"But it's one that's going to make you happy." He paused. "Because you don't want me to go out of your life any more than I want to go. Some people are meant to be together. Sometimes things happen or go wrong to change the order of things, but then we have to fight to put them back where they should be."

"I should be with Joe."

"Perhaps. But I'd be a fool not to position myself for any change in the wind." She leaned back in the swing and looked at him. His dark eyes, the power of his body, the confidence that was sensual in itself. He was everything that was mature, charismatic, and seductive, and she felt the magnetism as she always did when she was with him. Dammit, it was forbidden and, therefore, all the more alluring. "It won't work."

"Yes, it will. I'm something of a chameleon and in six months you'll have forgotten I was anything but your staunchest ally and bosom friend."

She wouldn't forget. "It would be easier if you'd just go away, Montalvo."

"But neither one of us likes easy." He lifted her hand and pressed the palm to his lips. "You see how restrained I'm being?"

Restrained? She could feel the heat tingling in her palm and wrist. She jerked her hand away.

"Good-bye, Montalvo."

He chuckled and rose to his feet. "Good night, Eve. I'll be in touch. Probably not with you, because you're too wary right now."

"And Joe's not?"

"Quinn and I understand each other." He headed for the steps. "In time we can bridge our differences."

"You're dreaming." She paused. "Why are you doing this? Why go to such lengths?"

"Miguel once asked me if you were worth it. I told him yes." He stood there at the top of the steps looking back at her. He added simply, "And I'm lonely. I find it difficult to come close to many people. I'd miss you if you weren't in my life. So I'm going to arrange it so that you stay."

She shouldn't be this moved. No one was tougher or more able to take care of himself than Montalvo. Yet she couldn't doubt his sincerity. "You know, this may boomerang against you. You say you're going to be Joe's best friend and yet you're planning on standing apart." She smiled. "I know Joe. There's no standing apart from him. It's all or nothing. You say that you understand him. You may find that you develop as much affection for him as you have for Miguel. Wouldn't that be funny?"

"No, it would not be funny." He lifted his hand in farewell. "But I'll take my chances. What's life without a little uncertainty?"

She watched him walk down the stairs. What a difficult man. He was full of complexities and character shadings that could keep you guessing and probing into infinity. This latest development had taken her completely by surprise. Was it calculating? Yes, but there had been that moment of vulnerability too. It was better not to think of Montalvo as vulnerable. With any luck he would be out of her life before long. In spite of his confidence in his success, it would be like climbing a mountain to overcome Joe's antagonism. Montalvo did have a certain sense of honor and she believed him when he said that he wouldn't interfere between Joe and her. If there was no other access, then the door would close and he would go away. She felt again that unreasonable pang of sadness. It was natural, when a force like Montalvo moved out of your life, that you'd experience a sense of loss. It would go away. She got to her feet and moved toward the screen door. She would go take a shower and change. Then she'd go through her correspondence and wait for Joe to call her. And hope that there would be news of Bonnie.

EIGHTEEN

SHE STOOD WATCHING FROM
the porch as Joe's car drove up the road three hours later. He looked exhausted, she thought as he got out of the car. Why not? It had been almost thirtysix hours since either one of them had gotten any sleep.

"You shouldn't have stayed up. I would have woken you." He came up the steps. "I know what's important."

"I didn't want to go to bed." She tensed. "Tell me."

"No Bonnie. They're still searching the island, but they brought over some instruments from Jacksonville and there don't appear to be any buried bone fragments." He took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. "God, I'm sorry."

"Me too," she whispered.

"And Bonnie's favorite song? We found a story in a Macon, Georgia, paper about Bonnie that mentioned it."

"And Kistle could have read it and remembered." Her arms slid around him. He was warm and hard and blessedly comforting. She could feel the tears welling, but she blinked them back. "But I think I was expecting it. When I saw Kistle's expression when he started backing away from telling me where Bonnie was buried, I was afraid that he'd been lying to me about everything." Her voice was muffled against him. "God, it's going to be hard to keep on searching after this, Joe."

"Then don't do it."

She shook her head. "Kistle wasn't the only name Montalvo gave me. There were two others."

"And you're already thinking about the next man on the list. I knew it would be like this. I don't know if I can—" He was rocking her in an agony of pain. "It was too bad this time, Eve. It almost killed you. And part of me died a little too. I
can't
care about Bonnie. I'm sorry but that's the way it is. I'm not sure I can watch you go through— I feel you stiffening against me. Don't
do
that."

She hadn't known she had been pushing him away. It was instinctive rejection because of the panic his words were bringing. "I can't help it." She kissed him and then stepped back. It was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to stay in his arms, convince him to stay forever. She couldn't do it. She didn't know how many times she'd unconsciously tried to sway him, keep him close. It wasn't fair to him. If she was hurting him, then she should stand aside.

"And I can't help you with this, Joe." She added unsteadily, "It's got to be your decision." She moved toward the kitchen. "But don't make it exhausted and on edge. We'll talk about it tomorrow. I've made a pot of coffee. Let's just sit and talk and then go to bed." She poured coffee into a mug. "I made it decaf, but I don't think it would make a difference. We'll both sleep."

He nodded. "I saw that Montalvo's camp was gone when I drove in."

"Yes, he dropped Miguel off at the hospital and broke it down himself." Joe looked down at his coffee. "He came up to tell you about it?"

"Yes, and to tell me how grateful he was that you'd saved his life."

"I should have let that alligator eat the bastard."

She smiled. "He also told me that you hadn't done it willingly."

"Damn straight."

"But he said it didn't matter and he was going to make himself your new best friend."

"What an ass." He took a drink of his coffee. "We've identified fifteen of the victims so far. We'll try to find case reports on the others, but we may be asking your help for a couple of them."

She nodded. "Though I might be able to ask Megan if she remembered any of the names of her voices. It could help."

"We'll take any help we can get." He gazed across the table at her. "Even Megan Blair's."

"You believed her, Joe. Maybe you didn't want to believe her, but you did."

"I believed her." He grimaced. "That doesn't mean I'd believe her on another case. I'd step very carefully."

"I wouldn't expect anything else of you." She looked away from him. "But at least you're willing to accept that everything isn't exactly as it might seem to you. That's a small breakthrough."

"I don't know what I'd accept or not accept. My good sense is telling me that I shouldn't believe any of this. As I said, once I have time to analyze, she'd probably have a hard time convincing me."

"I doubt if it will come up. I don't think Megan's going to be involved in any other cases anytime soon. This one could have killed her if you hadn't kept her warm on the way back to the dock. She was in severe shock."

"What else could I do?" He downed the rest of his coffee. "Shower and then bed. Coming?" Conversation over coffee, shower, bed; the familiar routines that made up their lives. She could sense the edge of darkness in him that could cut them apart, but he wasn't letting it surface. Not yet. So hold those beloved routines close. There was no guessing how long they would exist.

She smiled and got to her feet. "Always."

JOE WAS ASLEEP WITHIN
minutes after he had hit the bed, but Eve lay awake. She should be as exhausted as Joe and she supposed she was. But the memories and sadness wouldn't go away. Memories and the worry about what was to come.