Eve (19 page)

“Black, change your mind.”

“I may. Or I may not. If you’re not dead in the next twelve hours, then you’ll know that I’ve decided to forgive you and gone after Gallo instead.” He hung up.

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze on the little girl. Such shining brown hair, such a pretty little girl.

Her flight wasn’t due to board for another fifty-five minutes. That was enough time to lure her out of the airport.

If the flight attendant was as careless and self-centered as she appeared.

If the little girl was as innocent and eager as he judged.

If Black could use all his skill and cleverness to persuade her to come with him.

It would be difficult. It would be a challenge …

So should he accept that challenge? Should he forget her and get on his flight to Washington? Or should he catch a later flight to Utah?

Let the little girl decide.

He got to his feet and strolled casually toward the window.

If it proved too awkward or dangerous a task to take what he wanted, then he’d return to his own gate and continue to Washington.

If he was able to lure the little girl from the airport, then he’d come back after he’d sated himself and take the flight to Utah.

He stopped a good five feet from the child and gazed out the window, ignoring her. Never too close at the start. In the crowded airport, it would be better to use words rather than actions. And they must be the right words. But he would have no problem. He was an expert, a master, at this game.

Queen or Gallo?

Sweet little girl, you choose who is to die.

CHAPTER

11

“YOU’RE PROBABLY GOING TO
be very angry with me, Eve.”

John’s voice. John Gallo’s dark eyes looking down at her.

She was lying on a couch. Red drapes at the window. Where were they? A motel…?

“It may help to know that I made sure that you wouldn’t have so much as a headache.”

Not a motel.

She was jarred wide-awake.

She sat bolt upright on the couch. “What the hell!”

“It’s fine,” John said quietly. “It may not have been the diplomatic way to go about it, but you’re so surrounded by people who would have gotten in my way that I decided this was the safest way to handle it.”

She had a sudden memory of the numbing sensation as she’d handled the pen. “A knockout sedative in that pen? No, it wasn’t diplomatic. How the hell could it be?” She looked around the huge room. A study. Walk-in stone fireplace, book-lined walls, four floor-to-ceiling windows. “And where the hell am I?”

“My place in Utah. It seemed to be the safest place for a get-together?”

“Utah? You knocked me out and bundled me off to Utah? You
are
crazy.”

“I told you.” He smiled. “And you’re not scared. How refreshing.”

“You want someone to be afraid of you? It won’t be me. Go screw yourself.”

“I don’t particularly want it. It just happens. So I use it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now be quiet so that I can look at you. When I was masquerading as your friendly FedEx deliveryman, I was trying hard to make sure that you wouldn’t look at me. Which meant I couldn’t really look at you.”

She glared at him. “You had plenty of time to look at me while you were bringing me here. How many hundreds of miles?”

“But you were unconscious all the way here on the plane, and there was no spirit to be seen. What I remembered most about you wasn’t on the surface. I want to see if it’s still there. Just give me a moment.”

She drew a deep breath and tried to rein in the anger. She needed a moment of recovery, too. Shock and anger had blurred everything in their wake. She had reacted as she would have done if he had been the John Gallo she had known at sixteen. He was not that boy. He was a man and one of whom she had to be wary. But she’d be damned if she would be afraid of him.

Though perhaps there was a reason why he inspired fear, she thought as she studied him. There was a chilling quietness, watchfulness, about him that she didn’t recognize as a quality in the boy she had known. His stunning good looks had survived the years, same olive skin, dark piercing eyes, slight indentation in his chin. Faint lines at the corners of his eyes told of time in the sun, a thin strand of white streaked the dark hair above his temple. His lips were the same except for a curve that was faintly reckless. Yes, he looked older, harder; the edge that she remembered had become dagger sharp. He weighed less, still muscular, but spare, whip-lean.

Her gaze shifted up to meet his eyes. “As you can see, I’m not the same person. Comparisons are impossible. We start new, John.”

“On the contrary, everything I saw in you is still there … and more.” He tilted his head. “You had wonderful potential, and I didn’t even recognize it. I was so dizzy about what was between us that I was blind to anything else.”

“Potential? Don’t be patronizing to me, John.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t think of it. You were always able to intimidate me.”

“Bullshit. Why?”

“Because you always knew what you wanted and could stay the course. I had problems in that direction.” He stood up and went over to the desk and picked up a silver carafe. “Coffee? I thought you’d probably need a shot of caffeine after you came back to me.”

“How do I know that there’s not another knockout drop in it?”

He smiled. “Because I have no reason. I had to get you here with a minimum of trouble from outsiders. So I put a trace of the fluid on the pen. Now there are no outsiders, and I’m willing to put up with any trouble I get from you.” His smile faded. “God knows, I deserve it.” He poured coffee into two cups. “You still take it black?”

“Yes.” How had he remembered that little detail?

“I do, too, these days. A strong dose of caffeine and a glass or two of wine are the only jolts I allow myself.”

“I don’t care about your taste in coffee. Why have you brought me here, John?”

“I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Resolution? Nothing needs to be resolved between us but the question of whether you killed my daughter.”

“Perhaps not for you.” He gave her a cup. “But you’re saner than I am. I need more structure.” He sat back down. “Structure is important when you’re tottering on the brink.”

“Brink of what?”

“Fill in the blank.” He lifted the other cup to his lips. “I’ve fallen into any number of abysses in my life. Some of them were hard to climb out of.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“No, you’ve had your own falls.” He leaned back wearily in the chair. “Who would have guessed, Eve? We tried so hard to avoid being trapped, yet it happened to both of us. Terrible traps.”

“Mine wasn’t terrible,” she said curtly. “Bonnie is—was the highlight of my life and always will be.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t feel trapped when you found you were pregnant?”

“No, I felt stupid and angry with myself, but I always knew that I could find a solution. Afterward, there was no question of traps or anything else that wasn’t founded in love.” She gazed directly in his eyes. “Bonnie was all love. She bridged gaps. She made me try to understand myself and everyone around me. Do you realize what a wonderful gift that can be?”

“And you’ve never regretted having her even after all the pain you’ve experienced?”

“Regret? She
lived.
She lit up my world.”

He looked down into the coffee in his cup. “And then she was taken away from you.”

“Was it you, John?”

He lifted his gaze. “No.”

She was believing him, she realized incredulously. No, she mustn’t trust him. “Then you know who did it?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t
tell
me that.” Her voice was shaking. “You have to know something. You have to tell me.”

“I’ll think about it.” He sat up straight in the chair. “Though it would probably be better if I just sent you back to your police detective. Did you tell him about me?”

“Of course.”

He gave her a shrewd glance. “Not everything.”

“Details? No, he wouldn’t be interested.”

“I bet he would.”

“How did you know about Joe?”

“I know everything about you, Eve.” He finished his coffee. “One of Nate Queen’s principal duties was to compile and update dossiers on you. I know about your lover, your work, and your adopted daughter, Jane MacGuire.” He smiled. “She’s a very good artist. You’ll recognize one of her paintings on the wall as you go down the hall.”

She tried to hide her shock. She had naturally assumed Jane was not involved at all with John Gallo. “Why would you want to go to a gallery to buy her painting?”

“Curiosity? I’m very inquisitive. It’s my nature, and while I was in prison, it was developed into a fine art form. She’s very beautiful. She resembles you. I found that odd since you’re not related.”

“Coincidence. But you didn’t talk to her? Ask her questions?”

He shook his head. “I just stayed in the background and watched and listened.” He paused. “Just as I did with you.”

“Why?” Her voice vibrated with intensity. “Were you ashamed? Was it guilt?”

“There’s always guilt.” He stood up. “We’re all flawed, some more than others.” He smiled down at her. “And I’m the most flawed man you’ll probably ever run across. I was starting down that path when we came together, and I went into overdrive after I left you.” He headed for the door. “Bill Hanks will take you to your room. I’ve confiscated your phone, and you’ll find the house phones won’t work without a code inserted.”

“I want my phone. I need to call Joe Quinn. I won’t have him worried. You can monitor the call if you like.”

“Oh, yes, Joe Quinn.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m very interested in that relationship. I think I need to explore it.”

“And does that mean I can’t call him?”

“It might complicate things. You can join me for dinner in an hour, and we’ll talk some more. Or you can stay in your room, and I’ll come to you.”

Another stone wall.

“Who is this Bill Hanks?”

“He’s my head of security, companion, chess partner, whatever. His job description is ‘as designated.’” He stopped at the door. “But he’s very loyal. You’ll not be able to convince him to help you leave until I give the order to let you go.”

“I’ll find a way when I’m ready.” She stared him in the eye. “And that’s not yet. You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“I answered the important one. You’re just not sure you believe me.”

“The only way I can start to do that is to know more about you. I didn’t have spies, peering behind bushes and invading my daughter’s gallery shows. We have to be even.”

“You always insisted on that.” He opened the door. “I’ll answer everything I can. Feel free to ask Bill anything you like. I’ll tell him that he’s not to feel he has to protect me. It goes with the territory with him. He’s been with me a long time.”

She hesitated. “In Korea?”

“Only the last part of my stay in that fine hotel. That’s why I trust him. He avoided the final indignity.” He smiled. “He’s not crazy like me.”

She stared at the door as it closed behind him. She was as confused and frustrated as she’d been when wakened a little while ago. She had to know
more,
dammit. He was holding out bits of information like carrots before a donkey.

But he had said that it had not been he who had killed her Bonnie. It might be foolish to follow her instincts and believe him, but it was happening.

And she was profoundly grateful. That would have been the ultimate horror.

But he might still have been involved in some way. She had to find out. She had to know what he knew.

“Ms. Duncan?” A short, stocky man was standing in the doorway. He was fiftyish, with short sandy hair and pale blue eyes. “I’m Bill Hanks.” His smile was warm and broad. “May I take you to your room? John said you’d like to freshen up.”

Eve got to her feet. No dizziness. No aftereffects from the sedative. John had spoken the truth. “Thank you. How courteous of him. After a kidnapping, it’s always nice to have TLC.”

Hanks chuckled. “I imagine it’s difficult to compare kidnappings, but this one is top-grade. John insisted that we do it right. It wasn’t easy. We knew from Queen’s reports that you were expecting the FedEx skull, but FedEx is a very efficient company. It was dicey stealing that truck from the lot when John decided he wanted to move quickly.”

“Queen was monitoring my activities that closely?”

“If he hadn’t been, John wouldn’t have been pleased. Queen doesn’t like to displease John.” He stepped aside and gestured for her to precede him into the hall. “It usually has repercussions.”

“What kind of repercussions?”

“Unpleasant,” Hanks said vaguely.

So Hanks wasn’t going to be entirely frank with her after all. She’d have to push until she hit a wall, then keep on pushing.

Hanks indicated a painting on the wall. “John said you’d want to see the painting. It’s pretty good, isn’t it?”

And it was definitely one of Jane’s. Though she recognized the brushstrokes and technique, it wasn’t a painting with which Eve was familiar. It was a forest wreathed thickly in mists, and it was both mysterious and terribly lonely. “Very good.”

“She called it
Lost,
” Hanks said. “John said that she got it right.” He was leading her down the shining cherrywood-paneled hall. “I think he would have bought it even if it hadn’t been painted by your daughter. He said you adopted her when she was ten?”

“Or she adopted me. We’ve never been entirely sure how it came about.”

“She’s very young to be so successful.”

“Yes.” She added deliberately, “But it’s not Jane I want to talk about.” She glanced around the hall. “This is quite a place. Luxurious. John Gallo has money now?”

Hanks nodded. “He always says that money has more power than an AK-47. He made sure that he was stocked with that particular ammunition.”

“And how did he get it?”

“He made the U.S. government pay generously for his six years in prison. Then he took the money and did a tour of gambling casinos around the world and ran up his cash reserve into the stratosphere by counting cards.”

She frowned. “How did he do that?”

“Card counting? He taught himself in prison. He was always smart, and he had a lot of time on his hands. It kept his brain sharp. It was real bad there.” He paused. “And it was one of the ways he kept himself from hanging himself in that cell.”