Quicksand (7 page)

"Why did you ask Venable to bring in the FBI if you wanted to go after Kistle yourself?" Montalvo turned to him and smiled. "Can't you guess? If I don't catch Kistle, I don't want you to be the one to do it. I'd much rather the FBI pick him up than you be the hero. You're an exSEAL and I'm sure you can be very impressive when you're on the hunt. I'd really hate to see you slaying the dragon for Eve."

"You may be disappointed. Cassidy doesn't want to be here and he's looking for excuses to go back to St. Louis."

Montalvo nodded. "I gathered that from talking to him earlier. I'll have to find a way to change his mind."

"Then I assume that we'll get no cooperation from you tracking down Kistle."

"Yes, you will. That would be stupid of me. I'll help you all I can." He pointed to the oak tree across the bog. "For instance, that's the tree that Kistle used. It's the only one that would have given him the right angle."

"He was being chased and he had to take time to spread those branches over the quicksand. He would have had to run an extra quarter of a mile to go around the bog to get to that tree."

"He didn't run." Montalvo pointed to the branches of the three trees that overhung the bog.

"He used the branches. He went hand over hand over the bog. It would have taken him practically no time to swing over the bog and settle himself in that oak tree."

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm not. But I saw two fresh scuff marks in the bark of that maple on this side of the bog. That has to be the one he used to climb and access the others. It makes sense." Yes, it made sense, Joe thought. It shouldn't have surprised him that Montalvo would be able to work out the scenario. He had been a colonel in the rebel army before he had become an arms dealer and he had lived in the jungle for years.

"He would have to be extraordinarily strong and agile."

"Not so extraordinary. I could do it." Montalvo's gaze shifted back to him. "You could do it."

"We've had training and experience."

"So has Kistle." Montalvo smiled. "He spent six months surviving in the jungles of Nicaragua."

Joe stiffened. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Do you think I've been twiddling my thumbs since I left Colombia? I had to stay with Miguel during his surgery, but I've had investigators working nonstop on digging for information. I don't have your police contacts, but money is very persuasive."

"What else did you find out?"

"Not enough. Kistle has been brilliant about covering his tracks. But some of it may give us a clearer picture of him."

"Us?" His lips twisted. "Don't tell me you're going to share?"

"Of course. Eve wouldn't understand me doing anything else."

Damn, the bastard was clever, Joe thought bitterly. And he had studied Eve enough to know exactly how she would react. "And when are we going to be privy to this information?"

"That's up to you. Whenever you and Eve decide to set up a meeting with me. I'm entirely at your disposal."

"I could probably find out the same information if I worked at it."

"I'm certain you could. If you took the time." He glanced at Cassidy, who was talking to the deputies. "Perhaps he could help you. Oh, that's right; you'd prefer the FBI to do a quick exit."

"I didn't say that."

"No, but you want to catch Kistle and wring the truth out of him. It could get very messy and the FBI could interfere."

"So could the sheriff's department."

"You'd have no trouble with them." He turned away. "Miguel is at the hotel guarding Eve. When you want to see me, ask Miguel to contact me."

"Don't hold your breath. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to join Cassidy and tell him we should go check out that tree. Who knows? We may find something interesting."

Joe doubted it. Kistle's moves so far had been smart and careful. His gaze returned to the overhanging branches of the trees. Yes, he could almost see Kistle moving across that bog. Joe had crossed a narrow river that way when he was on a mission in Libya. Hand over hand, hands gripping, moving, gripping again, muscles straining. His heart had beat fast, hard, but not with fear. Joy, fierce exhilaration in the celebration of his own strength and the conquering of the river below him. He could feel that same flow of heady exuberance now. He had a sudden urge to climb that tree and follow the—

"It brings it all back, doesn't it?" Montalvo said softly. Joe turned to see him standing a few yards away, staring at the branches as Joe himself had been doing. "Life was simpler then. A soldier has so few rules to live by. Kill or be killed. Survive the fires, the rivers, the bullets. Live for the moment and enjoy that moment. Sometimes I miss it."

So did Joe. Every now and then he welcomed the chance to break free and become that man again, to embrace the savagery. "It was a long time ago."

Montalvo nodded and turned away again. "Yes, for me, too. But today it seems like yesterday. Isn't that strange?"

Joe watched him walk away. Hell, for a moment he had actually felt a kind of bond with Montalvo. So they had a common military background and some of the same feelings and attitudes bred from those experiences. As he'd told Montalvo, those experiences had been a long time ago and the war they were now fighting was with each other.

Montalvo stopped again before he reached Cassidy. "I'll be waiting for you to contact me, Quinn." He smiled. "I'm sure that Eve would want to know everything I know. Don't you?" Bastard.

"I'VE BROUGHT WINE," MIGUEL
said when Eve opened the door at six that night. He handed her the bottle. "I'm assured it's much better than what is stored in the cellars of this hotel."

"And who assured you?"

"Mr. BlackJack Calahan. He owns the only liquor store in Bloomburg." He looked past her to Jane as he came into the room. "You are Jane MacGuire. I'm delighted to meet you. I'm sure Eve has told you what a fine, upstanding man I am."

"She told me you're interesting." Jane looked at the label of the wine. "But you have very bad taste in wine."

"That's because I grew up in the jungle and I have no social skills. BlackJack lied to me?"

"BlackJack must have seen you coming." Jane put the wine on the table. "Eve's already ordered dinner. It should be here soon."

"Too bad. I thought I'd have time to impress you with my stories of life in Colombia."

"I'd rather hear if you've had any news from Clayborne Forest," Eve said. "I know about your life in Colombia." She looked down at his bandaged hands. "And what you went through makes me sick."

"It wasn't bad. Montalvo made it challenging. He likes challenges." His gaze went to the reconstruction of Carrie on the desk. "Is she dining with us? Not that I'd object. But it's difficult to divide my attention between the two of you, and that would—"

"Have you heard anything?" Eve interrupted. "I haven't heard from Joe since this morning."

"Montalvo saw him and I assume he was well."

"Montalvo and Joe?" Eve said slowly.

"All is well. Montalvo didn't mention attempted murder or mayhem on either part." He was staring at Jane. "You're very beautiful. That red-brown hair and brown eyes are like Eve's, yet you're different. Same strength, same character in your face, but it's not the same."

"If we look alike it's pure coincidence. We're not related."

"I think you are in spirit. But you're a firecracker set to gloriously explode. She's a wonderful enigma that could take a man a lifetime to solve."

Jane shook her head in disgust. "Talk about saccharine. I believe I'm going to be sick." Miguel beamed. "And you have a tongue that's as sharp as a machete. I believe I may be in love."

Jane blinked. "What?"

"I can't be in love with Eve. That would cause too many complications. You're much safer. Do you have a man?"

"That's none of your business."

"Do you?"

"I have a relationship."

"Why isn't he with you?"

"Trevor has his own life. I have mine." Jane frowned. "Back off, Miguel." He sighed. "I'll try to contain myself. But it's difficult. I would really have liked to have been in love with you. It would have been beyond everything."

Eve was shaking her head. "Stop making Jane uncomfortable or I'll kick you out."

"She's not uncomfortable, she's tough like you." Miguel smiled. "And she likes me, or she would have kicked me out herself." There was a knock on the door and Miguel swung around to open it. "That must be dinner. I'll get—" He broke off as he opened the door. "Good evening, Quinn. Eve was just asking about you. I told her you'd met with Montalvo and survived." He stepped aside to let him in. "I've been looking forward to spending the evening with your two beautiful—" His smile faded. "You're very grim. Does that mean that you're not going to permit me to intrude?"

"I don't care what you do," Joe said. "I'm going to talk to Eve and I want you to call Montalvo and tell him to come here tomorrow morning at eight. Then I'll get back to Clayborne Forest."

"Ask him," Miguel corrected. "I don't tell Montalvo anything."

"Then ask him." He turned to Eve. "May I talk to you?" She nodded. "Hell, yes. That's what I've wanted you to do since we got here." She turned and headed toward her bedroom. "I'll eat later, Jane. You two go ahead."

"We're being thrown together," Miguel said as the door closed behind them. "It may be fate, Jane."

"I doubt it," Jane said dryly. "I believe in fate, but this was Joe in tornado mode. Why don't you call Montalvo to set up that meeting for tomorrow? I think that would be more beneficial than all this chitchat."

"You're right. Montalvo will want to know. Will you lock me out if I step outside in the hall to phone him?"

"Privacy?" She raised her brows. "From me? When I'm the love of your life?" He flinched. "Stung." He opened the door. "I'll make my call and then plead humbly to be permitted back in. You'll, of course, be impressed by my sincerity and—"

"Bullshit." She closed the door firmly behind him.

He was still smiling as he dialed Montalvo.

"Quinn is here. He wants you to come to the hotel at eight tomorrow morning."

"Good. I'll be there. I'm going back to see Cassidy again. I think he's been talking to his superiors about dropping the case."

"Are you going to be able to persuade him to stay?"

"I think I'll have to call Venable and see what he can do. Cassidy's right, technically the FBI isn't needed here."

"Then why don't you let him go back to St. Louis? We'd have much more fun without them getting in our way." He paused. "You want them here because Quinn does not?"

"Not entirely. The picture is much bigger. Is everything well there?"

"No sign of any trouble. Evidently Quinn also thought Eve should have protection. I was stopped in the hall by a deputy because I was a suspicious character."

"Obviously a man of perception."

"There's no need for me to be here. Why don't I meet you at—"

"No."

"Oh, very well. Enjoy yourself in the woods. I suppose I'll have to go have a fine dinner and be entertained by Jane MacGuire. You didn't tell me what a beautiful woman she is."

"I haven't met her yet."

"She's like Eve. Guarded. But you don't see it until you study her for a while. And she's very protective of Eve. She doesn't make a big deal of it, but it's always there."

"Eve adopted her when she was ten. It was a number of years after she lost her daughter, Bonnie. Jane was a street kid and probably as tough as you are, Miguel."

"I knew we were meant for each other. But she doesn't see it. She has other fish to fry." He heard the service elevator open. "Our dinner has arrived. I'll think of you in that damp hellhole of a bog while I drink fine wine and eat like a king. Good night, Colonel."

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO
you, Montalvo," Venable said curtly. "I've just spent fifteen minutes talking to the director of the FBI, who wants to know what the hell his agents are doing in those woods when evidently half the population of Illinois is already stumbling around there. You said they were needed."

Evidently Cassidy hadn't wasted any time, Montalvo thought. "What's it going to take to get them to stay?"

"A valid reason. Proof that the local police can't do the job. Since it's a simple search and pursuit, you're going to get an argument."

"What about bringing up the possibility of the child killing? The investigation of Bobby Joe Windlaw's disappearance might require sophisticated techniques and expertise."

"When even the sheriff's department won't commit to whether they're certain the boy wasn't accidentally drowned? Sorry, I'd like to help Eve Duncan, but there's no—"

"I'll give you the location of Nortano's weapons cache near Bogotá. You've been looking for it for the last four years."

There was silence at the other end of the connection. "You son of a bitch."

"That little boy was reported missing after Kistle showed up in Bloomburg."

"I know. I know. Bobby Joe Windlaw," Venable said. "No body. Cassidy says that everyone thought he drowned in the river. His shirt and shoes were found on the riverbank."

"Kistle shows up. The little boy disappears. I don't believe in coincidences."

"No body," Venable repeated. "Find the boy's body and then come back to me."

"No, you do it and come back to me. I'm not the one who wants Nortano's weapons." Venable muttered a curse. "I thought you'd walked away from that life."

"I have, but that doesn't mean I don't know the value of an ace in the hole. Stall Cassidy until you can find a way to locate Bobby Joe's body."

"Cassidy won't help until he's ordered to do it. He'll call it a wild-goose chase."

"Then that leaves it up to you, doesn't it?"

"I'm CIA, dammit. We're talking about jurisdiction. You know we're supposed to operate only outside the country."

"And the CIA never does anything but exactly what it's supposed to do, never steps on anyone's toes? I'm not asking you to join in the hunt for Kistle. But the boy's body has to be found and it has to be done quickly. If the FBI is called into the boy's case, then they'll have to go after Kistle as a possible suspect."