Iris Johansen - Eve

“Oh, I do. But I guess he didn’t think her personal life would be of any interest to me.” He picked up his fork, and added casually, “Or maybe he was protecting her.”

She was abruptly jarred. The conversation had not been ordinary by any means, but it had possessed an odd, almost comfortable, familiarity. That last remark was not at all comfortable. “Why should he think her child should be protected from you?”

He warily looked up. “I said the wrong thing.”

“Did you? Nate Queen knows more about you than I do. Why should a child be threatened?”

“He shouldn’t be threatened.” His lips twisted. “But Nate Queen thinks I’m capable of any atrocity. I can’t blame him. I don’t have a great track record.”

“Against children?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I’ve never hurt a child to my knowledge.”

“You’d either know or not know.”

“I hope you’re right. I’d never do it deliberately.” He shook his head. “But there were missions when I was so messed up, I didn’t know what was going on. Sometimes I even blacked out, sometimes for days at a time. I just obeyed orders and got the job done.”

“And what if a child was in the way?”

“I don’t remember any-” He broke off. “What do you want me to say? Dammit, I can’t be sure. Maybe I don’t want to remember.” His eyes were glittering in his taut face, and the words spat like bullets. “You want to know for certain? Ask Queen if I ever murdered a kid. I’m sure he’s kept a tally going of all the sins I committed during those missions. But that’s all they did. They kept records. They didn’t try to stop me.” He stopped and drew a breath, obviously struggling for control. “But that’s not what you really want to know. You want to know about Bonnie. I don’t believe I’ve ever had one of those blackouts except on a mission. I’d remember Bonnie.”

“Why? You’ve never told me why you were in Atlanta. How did you even know you had a daughter?”

“I’ll get to it.” He looked away from her. “Eat your dinner. Judy will come stomping back in here and yell at both of us.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do.” He looked back at her. “And you’re in my world now. My world, my people. I’ll give you what you want, Eve. But it will be in my own time. This isn’t easy for me, either.”

She had known her questioning had been painful for him, but she had not been able to stop herself once she’d started. “Then, dammit, why did you bring me here?”

“I told you why.”

“Resolution? Bullshit.”

“Maybe for you.” His smile was slightly self-mocking. “But when you’re a touch unstable like me, it’s important.”

“When can we talk about Bonnie?”

“Soon.” He poured her a glass of wine. “But now we’ll talk about other things. Tell me about Joe Quinn, Eve.”

“I love him,” she said tersely. “He’s strong and straight and everything I could want. I don’t need phony movie stars to pamper my ego like you, John.”

He made a face. “That evidently stuck in your head. I admit sometimes I do have to reach to keep amused.” He added soberly, “I’m not on the attack about your lover. Life is rough and can be lonely. I’m glad that you found someone to make you happy. I’ve tried, but it never happens with me.”

She had not expected that response, and it caught her off guard. She went back to the original subject. “When can we talk about Bonnie?”

“Tell me about your reconstructions. How does it feel when you’re doing the sculpting? What kind of technique do you use to get such accuracy?”

She didn’t answer.

He smiled and lifted his glass to her. “My world, Eve,” he said softly.

And no amount of persuasion was going to move him until he wanted to be moved. But she couldn’t just abandon the subject. Go along with him. She’d come back to Bonnie later. She picked up her fork. “Forensic reconstruction isn’t exactly light dinner conversation.”

He followed through immediately. “Neither is stealing from corpses, prison, and starvation. In comparison I think you’re on the sunny side.” He handed her the glass of wine. “So tell me about your skulls.”

3:40 A.M.

COLONEL NATE QUEEN LIVED IN AN impressive condo in the trendy area of Alexandria, Virginia, outside Washington, D.C.

“Nice address,” Joe said. “You wouldn’t think the military would pay this well.”

“Private funds? Do you want me to go in and get him?” Catherine asked Joe, as they drew up before the building. “He’ll be surprised to see me, but he won’t go for the jugular.”

“Are you trying to protect me, Catherine?” Joe asked. “Or don’t you want me to take out one of your prize contacts?”

“Both.” She grinned at him. “You’re such a gentle soul that I wouldn’t want Queen to think that he’d have a chance with you. That could be fatal.” She got out of the car. “But you don’t seem amenable. Suppose I take out the lock, then disable the alarm while you go up and start the discussion with Queen. Good cop-bad cop?”

“Queen will probably be too savvy for that. We’ll see how it goes.” Joe moved toward the front door.

Catherine was able to unlock the door for him a few minutes later. “Give me a minute.” She went around the side of the building, traced the alarm wire, and disabled it.

When she came back around to the front, Joe had already gone inside and disappeared. It didn’t surprise her. She was right behind him, moving silently through the foyer and up the stairs.

She heard a curse, then a solid thump from one of the bedrooms on the second floor.

Silence was clearly no longer necessary.

She took the rest of the steps two at a time and reached the open door of the bedroom seconds later.

Nate Queen was naked, on the floor beside the bed, and Joe was straddling him, his hands around Queen’s throat. A stream of obscenities was issuing from Queen’s mouth.

“Shut up,” Joe said between his teeth. “I’m not ready for you to talk yet. You’re not saying the words I want to hear.”

Joe was mad as hell. Time to enter the scenario before Joe’s grip on Queen’s throat proved lethal. Catherine turned on the overhead light. “Let him up, Joe. We wouldn’t want him to catch cold.” Her gaze wandered farther down on Queen’s naked body. “Or suffer a serious inferiority complex.” She picked up a brown robe from the chair and dropped it down on Queen’s face. “Move very carefully, Queen. My friend’s not in a good mood.”

“Or don’t.” Joe released Queen and got off him. “I’d just as soon that you didn’t.” He glanced at Catherine. “He gave me a few problems. He was awake. You’d think he was expecting us.”

“Not you. Do you think I’d be scared of you?” Queen jerked the robe off his face and sat up. His heavy-jowled face was flushed with rage as he glared at Catherine. “What is this, bitch? Since when do you bring your scum to-”

“Careful,” Catherine said. “He brought me. I’m just here to try to keep you alive long enough to get the information we need. It’s not going to be easy for me. I’m almost as angry with you as he is.”

“We’re wasting time.” Joe dug his hand in Queen’s hair and pulled him toward the chair a few feet away. When Queen began to struggle, he punched him in the stomach, then heaved him into the chair. “John Gallo. Tell me where he is. Now.”

Queen’s expression changed, became wary. “Catherine, I told you that I couldn’t help you out. My source folded on me.”

“I heard what you told me,” Catherine said. “I didn’t believe you then. I sure as hell don’t believe you now. You’re dirty, Queen. You’re working hand in glove with Gallo. Talk.”