Iris Johansen - Quicksand

"You mean he wanted to learn how to kill in the most efficient way possible," Eve said.

"And he liked proving he could survive when no one else could. He was superb during the survival tests in the jungle. He was strong and smart and never quit. His reports were glowing when he went on missions. He was polite and obedient and lethal. What else could the Army want?"

"He made it through his hitch?" Joe asked.

Montalvo nodded. "Honorably discharged." His lips twisted. "But curiously enough, three weeks later an Apache helicopter blew up carrying his commanding officer and two of the men Kistle served with. No evidence of anything but an accident, of course. Kistle was an expert by that time. I'd judge that he was releasing some pent-up malice. Maybe one of them was a little too good. As I said, Kistle had to be best."

"No other killings during that period?" Eve asked.

"Not at or near the base. Perhaps he was getting enough killing on his missions."

"Where did he go from there?"

"He disappeared from view again for a few years." He paused. "The next time he surfaced he was running drugs in Atlanta. He was on drugs himself for a while and I doubt if he would have boasted about killing Bonnie if he'd been clean. At first, Murdock thought he was just fascinated by the case. He read everything he could, talked about it a lot. His attitude was… weird. Feverish, bitter, obsessed. Bonnie was such an appealing little girl that the media wouldn't drop the story. Every time a mention came up, Kistle was glued to the TV set. He kept telling Murdock that everyone in the country knew about the man who killed Bonnie Duncan, recognized his power, and they'd made him a superstar. Then one night when he was stoned, he told Murdock he'd been the one who'd killed her."

Eve moistened her lips. "How? Where?"

Montalvo shook his head. "Do you think I wouldn't have told you? Murdock said he didn't tell him any more, and after he came down from the drugs he never mentioned it again. He might not even remember he told him."

"Murdock probably wouldn't be alive if he had," Joe said.

"I agree," Montalvo said. "Unless Kistle wanted Murdock to tell someone about Bonnie. Murdock said Kistle was totally fascinated by the case. Maybe he wanted to go back in time and revisit it."

"He said Bonnie was his inspiration," Eve said numbly. "A burning arrow in the dark."

"Anything else?" Joe asked Montalvo curtly. "She's been through enough."

Montalvo shook his head. "She can take it." He rose to his feet. "But that's it. I'll leave the reports and photos here with you, Eve."

"No bodies," she said slowly. "All those years and no bodies. And no hint of a crime except those officers here in Bloomburg. It seems incredible."

"He may not have been as tidy about cleaning up in other parts of the country," Joe said. "But we can concentrate on that later. Now we've got him in our sights."

"Not yet," Montalvo said. "And considering his experience, it won't be easy." He turned to Eve and said quietly, "But we'll get him this time." He didn't wait for an answer but headed for the door. "I'll be in touch."

Joe turned to her when the door shut behind him. "Don't get your hopes up. It still might not be Kistle, Eve."

"Don't tell me that," she said with sudden fierceness. "I'm going to keep on hoping. I have to hope." She sat down on the couch. "And right now I'm going through these reports and see if I can find anything to use against the bastard. All we know is that he has to be the best and he was some kind of Rambo." She looked down at the picture of Kistle. "And that he's been alive and laughing and killing all these years my Bonnie's been dead." She tried to steady her voice. "Can you get that FBI agent to check under the Hathaway name and see if he can come up with anything else? He might have used that name again later."

"Cassidy's bowing out of the case." He lifted his hand as he saw her open her lips. "It's okay. We don't need him. He could get in the way. I can still request the information from the national database at Quantico." He moved toward the door. "I'll get right on it." He paused to look back at her. "How are you? Should I stay?"

She shook her head. "This is no real surprise. I knew he was a monster. I just didn't know he was such a clever one." She looked back down at the report. "Go on. Talk to Quantico."

JANE CAME OUT OF THEbedroom ten minutes later. "How did it go?" she asked as she saw the reports and photos spread out on the coffee table. "I gather Montalvo came through for you?"

"Yes." She couldn't look at these reports and newspapers stories anymore right now. They hurt too much. "He did what he promised. Joe's going to see if he can use them to get any more information."

"Cooperation between them?" Jane raised her brows. "Really?

"Really." Eve began to stack the information and put it back in the portfolio. "What did your agent want?"

"Nothing much."

"Jane."

She made a face. "He wanted me to go to Paris. A gallery there wants to exhibit the six paintings that didn't sell from the last show. He thinks it would open doors. I told him that a U.S. audience is just fine."

"Bullshit," Eve said. "Go. You don't have to sit here and hold my hand."

"I want to do it."

"Too bad. I'm feeling bad enough without guilt thrown into the mix. All I'm doing is sitting here while everyone else is trying to catch that bastard. You don't have to sit with me. One of us should do something productive." She got to her feet. "In fact, I'm going to start working on Carrie right now. You pack your bag and get out of here."

"No."

"Yes." Eve stared her in the eye. "I won't have Kistle spoil one more moment of my life. Everything around me is dirty and sad right now. You and your paintings are bright and full of beauty. I want to think of you in Paris. I want you to call and tell me what's happening in that world."

Jane gazed at her searchingly. "You mean it." She hesitated. "Will you call me when they catch Kistle? I'll fly back to be with you."

"The minute I hear." Eve gave her a quick hug. "Now get out of here so I can concentrate on Carrie." She moved toward the table. "Call and get me another pot of coffee before you leave, will you?"

Jane was still standing there. "I don't give a damn about Paris or the show, Eve. You're the only one who's important to me."

"The coffee," Eve said as she took off the drop cloth. "And Paris is important to me. Get out of here, Jane."

"Okay, I'm on my way." Jane went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Damn, she was going to miss her, Eve thought. But it was better for Jane to leave. She wouldn't have let her come with her to Bloomburg if she hadn't been so shaken. As she'd told Jane, it was ugly here and it was going to get uglier. After what Montalvo had told her about Kistle, it was clear that his behavior in contacting her was unusual for him. And those two poor deputies he had killed in her name were a message sent to frighten her. Kistle wasn't going to be content to keep his distance. He wanted to touch her, scare her, hurt her.

And Jane mustn't be here and get in his way.

She began to check the clay tissue depth beneath Carrie's cheekbone. "It's just you and me, Carrie," she whispered. "I have to work fast and finish you as quickly as possible. I don't think he's going to give me much time…"

"YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING, Venable," Montalvo said. "If you think I'm going to give you any information for a harebrained scheme like that, you're mistaken."

"It's my best bet." Venable said. "I can't keep Cassidy on the hook for more than another day. Hell, I know it's a long shot. But I'm going with it. I've called that Sheriff Dodsworth and asked for his permission and cooperation and he gave it reluctantly."