Iris Johansen - Eve

And if Gallo had gone on the run, there was no chance that he would have left the ledger at the house. He would have taken it with him. He could only hope that Black was on Gallo’s trail.

“What do we do now?”

It was probably too late to do more than cover all the bases. “Go to the library and take every file you find and load the computers in your vans and bring them back here.”

“Anything else?”

Queen had a sudden memory of Gallo sitting in that luxurious library, taunting him. He’d acted like some kind of snooty English lord of the manor instead of the vicious, murdering bastard Queen knew him to be. And Queen had been forced to listen and choke on his fury.

But the situation had changed, and that meant the rules had changed. Screw Gallo.

“Burn the damn house down to the ground.”

JOE, EVE, AND CATHERINE HAD reached their car and were on their way down the mountain when Catherine looked up at the rearview mirror. “My God.”

Eve glanced at the mirror, then quickly over her shoulder. Gallo’s beautiful mountain house was burning, the flames licking the surrounding trees and leaping for the sky. “Why?” she whispered. “It was such a lovely house.”

“Frustration,” Joe said. “Revenge. It was evident that Queen hates Gallo.”

Yet it seemed strange to Eve that Gallo, who had been the clear victim of Army Intelligence, would be so hated. “They wanted to hurt him. I wonder what they would have done if they’d found Hanks or Judy in that house.”

“Queen isn’t stupid. He’d be careful of any move that might draw attention.”

Eve shook her head. “And that fire doesn’t draw attention?”

“They’d find a way to do it so that it looked like an accident,” Catherine said. “It’s not difficult.”

And Catherine would be adept in those methods of destruction, Eve knew.

“You’re upset.” Joe’s gaze was on her face. “It’s just a house, Eve.”

“No, it was a home. I think it meant something to John. He told me he’d had it for ten years. How would you feel if someone burned down the lake cottage?”

“Mad as hell.”

“And I’d be sad.”

“And you think Gallo would feel as you do. You’re identifying with him.”

She shrugged. “I think it would mean something to him. I think he’s been hurt enough.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m a little lacking in sympathy. I went through hell imagining everything he could be doing to you. I can’t identify with him at all.”

That was very clear. The entire situation was complicated and barbed with emotion on both their sides. “I’m not saying it wasn’t wrong of him to do what he did. I’m saying that what he went through may have contributed to his making the mistake.” She changed the subject. “Where’s the plane waiting, Catherine?”

“At a private airport about thirty miles from here,” Catherine said. “You should be back in Georgia in about four hours.”

“That’s good.” She leaned back in the seat, her gaze once more on the flaming ruin in the rearview mirror. So much ugliness and destruction. It was beginning to touch everyone and everything around her. Tonight, Joe had been wounded, and it might have been horribly more serious.

And it had been her fault that he had been hurt. He had come to the rescue as he always did, as he would always do. Because Eve would not stop, could not stop, as long as Bonnie and her killer were out there.

And someday Joe’s selfless giving would end tragically. It was only a matter of time.

She could feel the tears sting her eyes as her every emotion vibrated in rejection of that thought.

No.

She couldn’t let it happen.

PAUL BLACK STOOD ON THEnorth slope and gazed at the flaming fury of the burning house.

Pity. It had been a nice house, and now Black would have no chance to go in and search it. It appeared that Queen, as usual, had been ruled by his emotions and not his head when he’d given the order to put it to the torch.

It annoyed him that Queen was getting in his way even before the hunt had begun.

He leaned back against a tree and watched Queen’s errand boys get into their trucks and start down the mountain. He was no longer in any hurry. He had missed Gallo but had watched all the other people pour out of the house. He had license numbers and photos of all of them. He’d e-mail them to Queen and have him identify them. Then he’d carefully choose who was to receive his attention.

Find a mate, find a cub, find a bait so succulent it was impossible to resist. There was always a way to trap the prey. Like the prey Black had just devoured. Pretty little Daniele, who had followed him from the airport as if he was the Pied Piper once he’d offered her the right bait.

The flames were burning hotter now. He felt as if he could feel them from where he watched. He liked fire. Everyone spoke of the fires of hell, and he had always thought he would have no problem there. If there was a hell, he was sure he would become the archdemon and rule it. If there was no hell, perhaps a man like him could live forever. Sometimes after a kill like tonight’s he felt as if he could take enough lives that they would give him the power he needed to carry on.

He should go soon. There would be police and firemen coming to put out the fire. But perhaps he would take a few more minutes to enjoy it. As he stared at the yellow-orange flames, he thought he could see the faces of all the prey he had taken through his life like a giant kaleidoscope, moving in and out in a blurring haze. He could not make out all the distinctive faces, but he recognized the Samoan teenager he had gutted only last week. And of course, the little Daniele from the airport. She was still fresh in his memory.

But the power she had given him was already fading, and the hunger was beginning anew. He needed a new kill, a strong kill.

Gallo?

Yes, Gallo would be strong.

Or perhaps, if Black was lucky, the road to Gallo would be paved with a river of blood.

“HOW ABOUT A COFFEE?” Catherine asked Eve as she unbuckled her seat belt after the plane had gained altitude. “I could use one. The adrenaline has seeped out of me, and I need a replacement.”

“No, thanks.” Eve was looking out the window. “I might try to sleep.”

“Whatever.” Catherine moved down the aisle to the coffee bar in the front of the plane. She had just poured coffee into the Styrofoam cup when Joe came out of the cockpit. She handed him the cup and reached for another for herself. “You don’t look like you want to sleep, either. How’s the arm?”

“Throbbing.” His gaze went to Eve. “She okay?”

“She’s very quiet, Joe.” Catherine poured herself coffee. “But I can’t blame her. We’re not on her wavelength right now. All she would get would be an argument, and after what she’s been through, that’s not what she needs.”

“He has her hypnotized,” he said grimly.

“No one hypnotizes Eve,” Catherine said flatly. “But I agree he must be clever as hell. He’s managed to tap into the one passion that could blind her to everything else.”

“Bonnie?” His lips tightened. “But maybe there could be another passion just as strong. She told me that she was different when she knew Gallo.”

Jealousy. Catherine had been afraid that demon would raise its head. Joe was one of the most confident men she had ever met, but an all-consuming passion like the one he had for Eve would have primitive roots. “But she’s grown up; that girl doesn’t exist any longer. No, it’s only Bonnie you have to worry about.”