Iris Johansen - Quicksand

"How can you feel like that? She's innocent. She's the victim, Joe…"

"See, I'm hurting you again. God, I don't want to do that. I'm trying to work it out, but it's hard. I just hope to God it was Kistle who killed Bonnie. We have to put an end to this."

"You could put an end to it," she said unsteadily. "You're worried about hurting me? My God, how I'm hurting you. I told you once I was damaged and obsessed and you should leave me. Maybe you're beginning to realize that."

"No way." He headed for the door. "I can't leave you. You're my center. We just have to find a way to survive."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to my room, shower, and get a few hours' sleep. Then I'm going to go back to Clayborne Forest. I'd bet Montalvo's already there."

"He's supposed to be here tomorrow morning, you said."

He nodded. "But he won't be wasting time. He has his eye on the prize."

"You mean Kistle?"

"Kistle's no prize, he's the target." He opened the door. "I'll see you in the morning, Eve."

She had to blink back stinging tears as the door shut behind him. So much raw pain had been in his expression when he had spoken about Bonnie. She had never wanted to cause Joe pain. He had been her rock, her lover, and her friend. He didn't deserve to be unhappy. She had been shocked by his bitterness about Bonnie, but she couldn't condemn it. Of course he couldn't love a child he'd never known. It was a wonderful thing that he'd fought so hard with Eve all these years to find her.

Yet she felt a twinge of loneliness that she couldn't share with him the love she felt for Bonnie.

And a sudden fear that she would have to choose between them or watch him walk out of her life.

Panic surged through her and she instantly rejected the thought.

Not yet. They could still work their way through this. The only positive thing was that they had both been totally honest with each other. Joe had given her hints of what he was feeling, but she had never believed him to be this close to a blowup. It had been Kistle who had set him off. But it could also be Kistle who saved them.

If Kistle had killed Bonnie. If they could catch him. If he could be forced to tell where she was.

Too damn many ifs.

IT WAS QUINN STANDINGacross the little clearing, Kistle realized.

Quinn was in the shadow of the huge sweet gum tree. As soon as Kistle saw him, he was gone, vanished.

He had thought Joe Quinn would be coming after him, and he was glad that he hadn't been disappointed. Quinn knew what he was doing in the forest and would be an interesting challenge.

He could no longer see him and Quinn was making no sound. Silence and stealth. Kistle would have to be very careful. He knew Joe Quinn's background and respected it. It was good that he was going to be challenged by the best of the best. These other yokels would be a piece of cake and bore him in no time. But Quinn would not bore him.

And neither would the hunter who'd crossed his path earlier in the evening. He'd been bigger, more muscular, but just as silent. Kistle had barely caught a glimpse of him, but he'd had the same phantom elusiveness as Quinn.

A tracker they'd brought in to find him?

Possible. At any rate, someone to keep Kistle interested… until he chose to kill him.

Should he go after Quinn now? Excitement tingled through him at the thought. What a magnificently effective blow that would be to Eve. But devastation should be paced, build, until the final eruption.

He sighed as he reluctantly prepared to leave. No, he'd move away from the danger that was Joe Quinn and keep to his original plan.

What are you doing tonight, Eve? Are you waiting for me? You won't wait for long. I won't let you. You'll have to come after me yourself.

And then I'll wait for you.

"YOU'RE JANE? I'M LUISMontalvo." Montalvo smiled as she opened the door. "Of course you're Jane. Miguel told me how beautiful you are. He's very disappointed that you won't let him sweep you off your feet."

"He'll recover. I think you're the only one he takes seriously." She stepped aside to let him enter. "Eve will be right out. Sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Please. Black." He sat down on the couch. "Where is Quinn?"

"He'll be here. He was at the forest all night." She handed him the cup. "You were there too, weren't you? I'm surprised you didn't run into each other."

"It's a big area." His gaze went to the reconstruction on the desk. "Another child?"

"Yes. Eve calls her Carrie. She couldn't bear not to try to finish her if she got the chance."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I can see it. Food for the soul."

"What?"

"It keeps her going. Perhaps subconsciously she thinks of each child as a stepstone to get to her Bonnie. If she does enough good works, then someday she'll be rewarded by finding her daughter."

Oh, yes, Jane could see how Eve could have been drawn to Montalvo. Those high cheekbones and dark eyes were totally arresting and he radiated confidence and vitality. Looks, charisma, and what was more dangerous, intelligence.

"I never thought of it quite like that," she said slowly. "I think it's probably much simpler. She's a good woman trying to save others from pain."

He nodded. "You could be right. I have a tendency to overanalyze at times. Particularly when I need to know how someone is going to react. It's important to me to know how Eve thinks." He lifted his cup to his lips. "I bought a painting of yours a month ago."

Her brows lifted. "Why? You don't have to know how I think."

"I found it fascinating. I went to the gallery because I was curious about Eve's daughter and found myself caught."

"Which painting?"

"It's one of Quinn's lake cottage. Very serene. I tried to buy another one, but they told me it wasn't for sale. It was the portrait of a man. You titled it Guilty . There was a world of torment in that face. Guilty of what, Jane?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "He doesn't exist. I just started sketching his face one night. It wouldn't leave me alone, so I thought if I did a portrait it would be a catharsis. It didn't work. I still paint him."

"Interesting. Perhaps it's not a person; it's the face of guilt."

"It could be true. We all have reason to be guilty in some area." She met his gaze. "But some of us aren't tormented by it."

He chuckled. "You're talking about me. You're right, I've developed a thick skin over the years. But I don't believe you're talking about my past. You're more personally involved."

"Very personally. I love Joe. Eve has a right to do what she wants to do. I'll back her all the way. But don't you make trouble for her."

His smile faded. "That's the last thing I want to do. I want her to be happy and at peace. I'm the one who can do that for her, Jane."

He was almost making her believe it. She shook her head. "She's happy with Joe."

"Is she?" He finished his coffee and set the cup on the coffee table. "There are degrees of happiness, just as there are degrees of guilt. As you said, Eve should do what she wants."

And he would do everything he could to make sure what Eve wanted was what he wanted, Jane thought. Persuasive as Satan, and yet she believed he meant every word he said. What a lethal combination.

He shook his head as he studied her expression. "Don't worry," he said gently. "I only want to give her what she-"

"Hello, Montalvo," Eve said as she opened the door. "I've just been on the phone with Joe. He'll be right down."

"Oh, that's right. Miguel told me he had another room." Montalvo rose to his feet. "Very wise. He doesn't need distractions." He smiled. "Hello, Eve. I've been getting to know your Jane. I feel as if I've run a gauntlet. She's very like you."

"I take that as a compliment."