Stalemate (2 page)

Why was he even questioning it? Montalvo didn't bluff and he would carry out any threat he made in exactly the method he'd outlined.

He had four hours.

He'd hoped to find a way to stop Montalvo without involving Eve Duncan but time had run out. But was it to his advantage to make a trade for the woman? Why not let it go? He had to be sure it was worth it.

Four hours.

He reached for his phone and quickly dialed.

"Montalvo's given me four hours. Dammit, he'll do it. How the hell am I supposed to stop him?"

Venable was silent for a moment. "It's time you offered Eve Duncan a choice."

"Some choice. Okay, I'm on it. I'll call you back when I get through." He hung up and looked in his book for Eve Duncan's phone number.

"Jane called me," Joe said as he came into the cottage two hours later. "She tried to reach you but she couldn't do it. She said she'd made reservations for us at the Doubletree in Phoenix and that I was to remind you that the show was this Saturday." He smiled. "I told her that there was a fairly good chance that you'd remember."

"What?" She tried to shift her attention away from the skull. It was like fighting her way through a thick fog. "Of course I remembered." Eve managed to tear her gaze away from Marty. "It's a very important show for Jane. I wouldn't miss it. She should know that."

"Yeah." He went over to the phone and turned it back on. "She also knows that you've been working day and night to finish that reconstruction."

"Marty is difficult." She looked back at the reconstruction of the eight-year-old boy. At least, the forensic team's estimate was eight years. "I had to practically put his splintered facial bones back together before I could begin work."

"Do we have a clue who he is yet?"

She shrugged. "You know I never look at police files before I finish the reconstruction. The Macon police have photos of children who disappeared around the time that they estimate the boy was killed. We'll see if we have a resemblance."

"DNA?"

She grimaced. "Come on. The DNA labs are so backed up with current murders that they're not going to be in any hurry to process a five-year-old cold case." She pushed the hair back from her forehead. "But if I do a good enough job I have a chance to bring him home."

"You'll do a good job," Joe said. "But not if you get so tired you lose judgment." He headed for the kitchen. "Did you eat dinner?"

"I think so...I don't remember."

"Then we'll assume that you didn't. I'll warm up the beef stew in the refrigerator and put some garlic bread in the oven. That means you have fifteen minutes to clean up your studio and wash up."

"I can catch something later."

"Now." He opened the refrigerator. "Scoot."

She hesitated. Montalvo. She'd meant to tell him about the call from Montalvo as soon as he came in but it didn't seem important now. As she'd worked on the skull, everything had faded but the reality of the work itself. Marty was important. The other lost children were important. She'd tell Joe about Montalvo later. "I should finish tonight. I want to do the computer three-D image before we leave for Phoenix."

"According to forensics, the boy's been dead for five years. He can wait a little while longer." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "No arguments, Eve. I let you wear yourself into the ground because you give me no choice, but not this time. You'll have a fight on your hands. I'd bet you've lost five pounds this week."

"I don't think--" She wearily shook her head. Maybe he was right. She was exhausted and she probably had lost weight. This case had been particularly painful. She should be used to dealing with the cruelty of the monsters who killed innocent children after all these years of forensic sculpting. Yet the mindless brutality of the violence visited on this small boy had ripped aside the scar tissue. "I want to bring him home, Joe." Her lips tightened. "And I want to kill the son of a bitch who did that to him."

"I know," he said. "Give me a chance and I'll do the job for you. For that poor kid and for what his killer is doing to you." He slammed the refrigerator door. "I was hoping this damn obsession was lessening but along comes a nasty case and you're right back where you were."

She stiffened. "This is what I do. This is what I am. Why are you so angry about it now?"

He didn't speak for a moment. "Because I'm tired. Because sometimes I can't stand to see you in pain. Because the years pass and I think the miracle will happen and it never does."

He was talking about Bonnie. She felt a ripple of shock. She couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken about her daughter. Yet Bonnie was always there, a silent presence. "I'll find her someday."

"A miracle," he repeated. "After all these years that's what it would take." He turned his back on her and moved to the stove. "Go get cleaned up. If I upset you any more, you won't eat and I'll be defeating my purpose."

She studied him. Something was definitely wrong. His motions were jerky and that remark about Bonnie was an instant tip-off. She would have noticed earlier if she hadn't been distracted by both her work and the aftereffects of that call from Montalvo. "I'm not the only one who's upset. What the devil is wrong with you?" She crossed her arms over her chest to keep them from shaking. "And don't tell me that you're just fed up with living here with me. If you don't want to stay with me, no one is forcing you."

"Particularly not you."

"Shut up." She tried to steady her voice. "I don't have any right to ask you to stay. I'm an emotional cripple. As you said, I'm obsessed and I'll probably remain that way for the rest of my life. Sometimes I wonder why you haven't left me before this."

He didn't look at her. "You know why."

"Joe."

"I have my own obsession. Now get your ass in gear. We need to get some food down you." He shot her a glance. "It's okay. I'm over it. It just had to come out."

"Why now?"

"Why not?"

She hesitated, gazing at him. It wasn't over. She could sense the turbulence, the reckless energy whirling below the surface.

"You're down to ten minutes."

She tried to smile. "You used up five telling me what an obsessive wacko I am."

"Takes one to know one." He turned on the oven. "And you're my wacko."

She felt a sudden surge of warmth. He was the only man she'd ever known who could make her flit from emotion to emotion in the space of a heartbeat. She'd been angry, upset, defensive, and yet now she was feeling this powerful surge of affection. She turned away and headed down the hall. "Wackos of the world, unite."

"I only want to unite with one wacko and I fully intend to do it later tonight. After I feed you and stoke up your energy level."

"Promises, promises."

She was still smiling as she stepped into the shower a few minutes later. She could feel a tingle of sexual anticipation and excitement start within her. Jesus, you'd think after all these years with Joe that sex wouldn't be this urgent. Wasn't it supposed to become merely comfortable after a while? Their coming together was just as wild and passionate as that first time. Her body was tensing, readying at the thought.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as the water flowed over her. She'd tell Joe about Montalvo's call over dinner but right now she wanted to relax and forget about everything but Joe....

Joe was taking the garlic bread out of the oven when his cell phone rang.

Soldono.

He was tempted to let his voice mail pick up.

Shit.

He punched the button. "Quinn. Go away, Soldono. I'm not talking to you. We're done."

"If we were done, you wouldn't have answered the phone. Have you talked to her? It's almost nine-thirty, dammit. Time's running out."

"No, and I'm not going to."

"You will. You have a conscience."

"My conscience concerns Eve, Eve's physical safety, and Eve's mental well-being. Period. Bottom line."

"And what does her conscience dictate, Quinn? I've heard Eve Duncan's conscience is a little more encompassing. What would she say?"

"I'll never know. Neither will you, Soldono." He hung up the phone. Keep cool. He'd already let Soldono get under his skin or he wouldn't have answered the phone.

"Who's Soldono?"

He turned to see Eve, wrapped in a terry robe, standing in the doorway. "No one important."

She frowned. "If he weren't important to you, he wouldn't be able to make you this angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Who's Soldono? An officer at the precinct?"

"No." He placed the garlic bread on a plate. "We've got to both eat this to cancel the odor out. Maybe garlic wasn't such a good idea. Of course, it's supposed to keep away vampires."

"Is Soldono a vampire?"

"Drop it, Eve."

"Why?" She sat down at the table. "I've an idea he may be one of the reasons you were on the attack tonight. Who is he?"

He put her bowl of stew in front of her. "CIA. Satisfied?"

"No. Is that all I'm going to get?"

His lips lifted in a sardonic smile. "Soldono says that it's not. But it's all you're going to get now."

Her forehead wrinkled in thought as she remembered something. "When you came into the house, you turned the phone back on. No comment. You just turned it on."

"Jane couldn't get in touch with you."

"But you didn't ask me why I turned it off."

"You were working."

"Joe."

He didn't answer.

"Talk to me. You knew about my call from Montalvo, didn't you?"

"Yes." He poured some coffee. "Why didn't you phone me and tell me about it?"

"I thought it would wait until you got home." She grimaced. "Okay, I didn't want to think about him. It was interfering with Marty. It was just a kind of follow-up call to see if I'd changed my mind. And he didn't exactly issue any firm threats."

"You should have called me. I don't like being shut out."

"Neither do I. What does Soldono want with us?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "He doesn't want us. He wants you."

"What?"

"He wants you to go down to Colombia and do the reconstruction Montalvo is asking." His hand tightened on his cup. "He doesn't give a damn that once you're down there, your chances of getting out alive stink. If knowing the identity of that skull is important to Montalvo, he's not going to want anyone else alive and walking around to share that knowledge."

"You're preaching to the choir. I've no intention of going down there."

"Good. Then we'll forget both Montalvo and Soldono. Eat your stew."

"We won't forget it. Why is the CIA involved with Montalvo? You said he was a crook."

"The CIA sometimes has strange bedfellows."

"I want to know, Joe."

"Okay." His lips tightened. "Soldono called me because he couldn't reach you and he was on the hot seat. Montalvo called you because he expected Soldono or one of his superiors to have already put the screws to you."