The Killing Game (22 page)

He smiled sardonically. “You're actually letting me in?”

“Shut up. I'm mad as hell at you. There was no call for hurting Juan.”

“He had a gun.”

“And you nearly killed him.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I was annoyed.”

“Well, so am I.” She got back in the car. “No one invited you here.”

“Oh, I'm well aware of that.” He turned and strode through the gates.

“
Who
is that?” Sarah asked Eve. “Herb was right. He reminded me of Rambo too.”

“Joe Quinn.” She drove up the driveway. “An old friend.”

“Are you sure? The vibes he's giving off are more explosive than friendly.”

“He's upset with me.” Her lips tightened. “But no more upset than I am with him.”

“He was at Fay's,” Jane said from the backseat. “He jumped on me.”

“You jumped on him first. With a baseball bat.”

“You're defending him,” Sarah noticed.

“It's habit.” She parked and got out of the car. “You all go on to bed. I'll deal with him.”

“He'll take some dealing,” Sarah murmured. “But Monty and I are too tired to volunteer, and Jane doesn't have her baseball bat.”

Jane chuckled. “Can Monty sleep with me tonight, Sarah?”

“Not tonight. You know that's only on special occasions.” Sarah nodded at Joe, who was waiting by the door. “Be nice to Eve, or I'll sic my dog on you.”

She didn't wait for an answer as she ushered Jane and Monty inside.

“Who is she?” Joe asked Eve.

“Sarah Patrick. Monty is her dog. If you knew where I was staying, I'm surprised you didn't know about Sarah. Didn't Logan tell you what was going on?”

“You've got to be kidding.” He followed her into the house. “Logan told me no more than he had to, just that you were safe, he had two men guarding you, and that I should go jump in the lake.”

“Then how did you find me?”

“Mark told me you were heading for Phoenix and that he thought you had an ace in the hole. I immediately thought of Logan. I started looking for him and learned that he'd left Monterey and was staying at the Camelback Inn. I'd also discovered that he owned this house, and I thought it logical that he'd provide you and Jane with a place to stay.”

“How astute of you.”

“I wouldn't be sarcastic if I were you.” His tone was thick. “I've gone through hell trying to find you and not knowing if I'd get here before Dom did. I don't know how much control I have left.”

“Not very much judging by that display you put on outside.”

“Did it upset you? Too bad. But then, I've always known that violence upset you. You've had too much of it in your life. So I kept that part of me turned low. I'm tired of it, Eve. Accept me as I am.” He looked around the foyer. “Very nice. Very cozy. Logan did you proud.”

“He's been a great help.”

His eyes narrowed. “Oh? How great a help? Lots of sympathy and intimate little chats?”

“Of course I talk to him. I call him whenever I get a chance, to tell him how things are going. Was I supposed to just drop him after he helped me get Sarah and all the other— Why am I defending myself? It's none of your—”

“There's only one thing I want to know. Has Dom contacted you since you've been here?”

“Yes.”

He muttered a curse. “How does the bastard do it? He must be sticking as close as molasses to you.”

“Why are you surprised? He's had decades of experience in stalking, and he must know every trick in the book. It wouldn't be any fun for him if he couldn't check my pulse.” She walked into the living room and turned to face him. “I'm tired, Joe. Say what you've got to say to me and let me go to bed. We've got to get up at dawn and start searching again.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” She lost patience with him. “Dammit, Joe, do you expect me to apologize to you for trying to save your job? I'd do it again. This is my concern, not yours.”

“Your concerns have been mine since the day I first met you. They'll be mine until the day I—” He shook his head. “You're backing off, closing me out. I can feel it, dammit. How long do you think I can—” He took two steps forward and grasped her shoulders. “Look at me. For God's sake, look at me and see me as I am, not what you want me to be.”

His eyes . . .

Her chest was so tight, she couldn't breathe.

“
Yes
.” His voice vibrated with intensity.

“Let me go.” Her voice sounded faint even to her ears.

His grasp tightened and then he slowly released her. “I'm not stupid. After all these years, I'm not going to rush it. But you've kept me chained too long by pity. I can't take it anymore.”

“Pity? I've never wanted your pity.”

“How could I not feel pity? I ached with it. I ate and slept with it. It was dry as dust, but it was all I had. And every time I thought I couldn't take one more minute of it, you made me bleed again and I was caught.” He held her gaze. “No more pity, Eve.”

“I'm going to bed.” She backed away from him. “We'll talk in the morning.”

He shook his head. “No, we don't have to. I can wait now.” He glanced at the couch. “I'll bunk down here.”

“There's another spare bedroom.”

“You can show me tomorrow. Go escape now.”

She needed to escape. She was confused and panicky and there was a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. And Joe, damn him, knew her so well, he was probably aware of exactly what she was feeling. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“It will be okay, Eve.” he said quietly. For the first time, a faint smile lit his face. “Don't think about it. Ride with it, live with it for a while. I'm the same man you've known for the past ten years.”

But he'd been almost a stranger during those moments when he was looking down at her.

When he was touching her . . .

How many times had he held her in the last ten years? In friendship, in sympathy, quieting the pain, helping her through nights of torment and loneliness.

Never like this.

“Good night,” she murmured, then fled the room.

It was crazy, she thought as she took off her clothes and slipped into bed. It shouldn't be happening. Damn you, Joe. You shouldn't be feeling like this.

She
shouldn't be feeling like this.

Her breasts were taut, aching against the coolness of the sheet, and there was an unmistakable tingling between her thighs.

Oh, shit.

Not for Joe. She didn't want to feel this animalistic lust for Joe. It didn't have any place in the compartment she'd given him in her life.

Compartment
. Where had that thought come from? Because she couldn't bear to let him go, had she kept Joe in the one area of her mind and heart where she could accept closeness? How incredibly selfish.

It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true. Yet that night at the motel in Ellijay, hadn't she known there was something else between them, something she wouldn't permit to come to the surface?

Perhaps tonight was only a temporary aberration on Joe's part. Maybe tomorrow he'd be back to normal.

But what about her? Could she ever look at Joe again in the same way? When he'd touched her and stared down at her with such intensity, he seemed to have changed before her eyes. She'd suddenly become
aware
of him. The physical, sexual Joe Quinn. The broadness of his shoulders, the slimness of his hips, his mouth . . .

She'd wanted to reach out and touch that mouth.

Heat. Tingling. Hunger.

Stop thinking of him that way. She had to regain her balance so she could convince Joe how destructive going in a new direction could be. Be logical, be cool. . . .

She was so upset, there wasn't any way she could be logical or cool.

Damn you, Joe.

JOE, DRESSED IN
jeans and sweatshirt, his hair wet from the shower, met her in the hall when she came downstairs the following morning. “Coffee's made. Sarah, Jane, and Monty are in the kitchen. You're late.” He smiled. “Didn't sleep well?”

She stiffened. “I slept fine.”

“Liar.” He started toward the kitchen. “Sarah filled me in on your progress, or lack of it.”

His manner was casual, she noticed with relief. This was the Joe she knew. It was almost as if last night had never happened. “We still have a chance.”

“If Dom didn't lie to you. Don't bank too much on there being evidence even if we find Debby Jordan. Spiro says nothing of value has been uncovered at the graves at Talladega.”

“What about the cardboard box in the alley?”

“The same. The blood belonged to the security guard at the welfare house.”

“And the two graves in Phoenix?”

“Spiro sent Charlie here to help look into that. Nothing yet.”

“That doesn't mean we won't find something.”

“He wouldn't have told you about Debby Jordan if it had a chance of incriminating him.”

“Yes, he would. He's tired of being safe. He needs—I don't know what he needs, but I'm part of it. And he's made at least one mistake since I came here.”

“Sarah's dog.”

She nodded. “If he made one mistake, he may have made another.”

“And if he didn't?”

“Then we'll find a way to get him. I can't let this go on indefinitely. I won't be made to hide and I won't be taunted by that bastard.” She grimaced. “I can't
stand
it. He's feeding on me, Joe.”

“Maybe you're right. Maybe Debby Jordan will be the key.” He paused. “So let's get breakfast and hit the road.”

“You're going with us?”

“You let the kid go. Why not me?”

“Jane has to stay with me.”

He started to open the kitchen door, but she stopped him. “I don't want you to go with us, Joe.”

“I'm going. You're not going to get rid of me again.”

“Look, I've been careful. I've stayed out of sight. I've let Sarah handle the people who've come up and questioned us while we were searching, but there's always the possibility the police might find me. I don't want you to be with me if that happens.”

He grinned. “Then I'd make a quick arrest myself. Did I forget to tell you that I persuaded my department chief that it was his idea to send me here as the Atlanta liaison on the interstate task force? So my job you're so worried about is safe.”

“The hell it is. You're walking a tight line, and I don't want you to go with—”

“You're repeating yourself.”

“And you're not listening. I don't need your help.”

He looked at her pointedly. “You let Logan help you.”

“I didn't want his help.”

“But you still let him help you.”

“That was different.”

“Yes, it was different. I wanted to strangle you when you left me and went to him for help.” He smiled. “But now I believe it's an encouraging sign. Think about it.”

She didn't want to think about it. Suddenly she was feeling the same tightness in her chest, the same awareness she'd experienced the night before. Dammit, she didn't want to feel this way around Joe. He was her best friend, almost her brother. “It's all wrong. You're spoiling everything.”

He went past her into the kitchen. “Adjust.”

“
EASY, BOY. YOU
'
RE
going too fast.” Sarah tightened her grip on the leash. Monty had been tense and moving at top speed since he'd reached this field at the rear of Dawn's Light Elementary School.

Instinct or impatience? He'd gone through days of search with nothing to show. God knows Sarah was tired and impatient.

It had to be nearly six. It was getting dark and the scraggly trees were casting longer shadows on the sparsely covered ground.

“How much longer?” Joe called from the car, which was parked at the edge of the field.

“Another fifteen minutes.” She paused a moment, giving both herself and Monty a chance to catch their breath, her gaze fixed on Joe and Eve. It was odd watching them together. It was clear they were old friends; they had the comfortable habit of almost finishing each other's sentences. Yet there was something disquieting about the tension between them. People were too complicated. Dogs were much easier . . . most of the time.

“Are we almost done?” Jane asked.

“Soon.” She started moving again. “Why don't you go to the car and get a sandwich? You must be hungry.”

Jane shook her head. “I'll wait until you go back.” She smiled eagerly. “Monty's going faster, isn't he? Why do you suppose he's doing that?”

“How should I know? I'm just along for the ride.”

Jane frowned. “What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Her stride lengthened. “Go back to the car. You can't keep up.”

“I always keep up.”

“I told you to go back,” she said sharply. “We don't need you.”

Jane stopped, stared at her for a moment, and then turned on her heel and walked away.

She'd hurt the kid's feelings. But it couldn't be helped. She couldn't afford to concentrate on anything but Monty just then.

Faster.

To the left.

Faster.

Monty was straining at the leash.

Close.

Eagerness.

Hope.

Found!

Monty started to dig.

“No, Monty.”

Found.

She didn't try to stop him again. He'd find out soon enough.

He froze into stillness.

Gone?

“Yes.”

He backed away.
Gone
.

He was whimpering.

Christ, he was hurting.

She fell to her knees and put her arms around his neck.

Child?

“I don't think so.”

But gone
.

She felt tears sting her eyes as she rocked him gently. “Shh.”

“What's wrong? Is he hurt?” Eve was standing beside her.

“Yes.” And it was her fault. She had tried not to think about this moment, but she had known it would come. “He's hurt.”

“Should we take him to a vet?”

Sarah shook her head. “It wouldn't do any good.” Please stop whimpering. You're breaking my heart.

Gone
.

“What happened?” Joe knelt beside the dog. “Does he need first aid? I've had training in—”

“He found her.”

“Here? Debby Jordan?”