Iris Johansen - Quinn

“Brilliantly?”

“Of course, it wouldn’t have given me any satisfaction if I hadn’t done it well.” He waited for the waiter to change out their salads for the sandwich plates. “My parents wanted me to go into politics. They thought a senator would be a nice addition to their circle. I took a look at Congress and decided that I’d probably be a zombie by the time I was thirty. So I joined the SEALs instead.”

“From what I’ve heard, they definitely don’t develop zombies.”

“No, I’ve never felt more alive in my life. They made me into the quintessential warrior, with all the skills and opportunities for battle. I’d found my niche in life.”

“Then why did you get out?”

“I liked it too much,” he said simply. “And I was too good at it. At first, I considered myself a patriot, and that was okay. Then there comes a point when you know you’re coming too close to the line between fighting for a reason and doing battle for the sheer heady love it. If you don’t stop before you cross that line, then you become what you’re fighting. I was tottering on the brink because I knew I was good enough to let loose all that violence and skill and probably never have to account to anyone. It was a hard decision for me to make.”

She studied him. “I can understand how it would be.”

Yes, she could sense that streak of wildness and violence in him, and he wouldn’t try to hide it from her. She wasn’t afraid of those qualities in him. If she was, then he’d have to handle that as it came to the forefront. He wasn’t going to lie to her about that side of his character. He hated deceit, and he was having to practice too much of it with her.

“Why the FBI?” she asked.

“It offered a certain amount of action, the technology interested me. I’d always been good at search and destroy. I’m insatiably curious, and I liked puzzles.” He nodded at the waiter, who was filling their coffee cups. “And it forced me to be the good guy.” He smiled. “You wanted frankness. Did I give you too much?”

She shook her head. “Because you’re no saint? I admire the fact that you know yourself and are setting up barricades to be the person you want to be. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone who had the discipline to do that.”

“Necessity. Everyone has a choice to make about the path they take.” He lifted his cup to his lips. “And I noticed that you have a great deal of discipline.”

“I thought I did.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m a mother and a daughter, and I worked two jobs and went to college. That kind of responsibility forces you to develop discipline, or you end up a basket case.” She looked down. “Particularly in this situation.”

He acted quickly to distract her. “You’re a student. What are you studying?”

“Electrical engineering.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that would be your forte.”

“Why not? I’ll be good at it.”

“I don’t doubt it. No offense. But you don’t impress me as…” He half shrugged. “I saw that sketch of your daughter in the upper hall of your house. It was very good. I can see you as an artist or a designer. But, then, I could be wrong. Am I?”

“You’re very perceptive. I’ve dabbled at drawing in my spare time. When I’m not waiting tables at Mac’s Diner, I work for a photographer part-time doing sketches of kids and dogs. Some parents prefer sketches to the realism of the camera. I like it, but I’ve never been tempted to try to earn a living at it. Engineering is more practical and secure. I have to support my Bonnie.” She looked him in the eyes. “If I still have my daughter. That woman tonight…”

“Has nothing to do with reality.”

“I keep telling myself that. But the reality is that hope might not be enough. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night screaming.” Her hand tightened on her cup. “I don’t have to tell you what I’m dreaming. There are monsters out there.”

“Yes, there are.”

“And you know about them, you’ve dealt with them. These last two weeks, you’ve been looking for the monster that might have killed my little girl.” She moistened her lips. “I knew that, but I didn’t want to admit it. I wanted to close my eyes.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Stop being so damn understanding. I can’t close my eyes after today. I can’t rely on hope.” She was beginning to tremble. “I have to accept that she might have been taken by one of those monsters. But maybe he didn’t kill her. Maybe she’s a prisoner somewhere. That could happen.” She shook her head and said through her teeth. “Stop looking at me like that. I know what the odds are that if she was taken by someone like that she’s probably dead. I made Slindak tell me, and he said that almost all children who were kidnapped by those kinds of monsters are killed within the first twenty-four hours. But there’s a chance you’re wrong.” She whispered, “There’s a chance I’m wrong.”

“Not a very good chance, Eve,” he said gently.

“It doesn’t have to be a good chance. I’ll take what I can get.” She drew a shaky breath. “But I didn’t bring this up because I wanted you to tell me it was likely that I’d get Bonnie back. I’ll follow every clue, every path that could lead me to my daughter alive and well. But I have go down that other ugly path, too. The one you and the police are almost sure that she’s taken. Maybe I’ll find her there.” She smiled with an effort. “But maybe I won’t, and then I’ll still be able to hope.”

“What are you saying, Eve?” he asked quietly.

“You’ve been searching for the man they think killed those other missing children, haven’t you?”

He nodded. “Among other leads. I’m not closing the door on anyone or anything.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer for a moment. “I’m looking through records on child molesters.” She flinched, and he swore softly. “It’s just routine.”

“Because the routine has proved valid.”

“Yes.”

“I want to help you.” She held up her hand. “No, not doing that. I’d do it if I had to, but I’ll skip that punishment if I can be useful somewhere else. And, I can be useful. I want you to give me copies of the cases of those children who have disappeared. I want to study them and see if I can see similarities or anything that might pop up in the way of a lead.”

“That’s my job, Eve.”

“No, it’s my job, too. My daughter may have been taken by the same man who killed that little boy who was found by the freeway. If I find him, I may find her.” Her jaw squared. “I have to try. If you don’t give me a copy, then I’ll go to the morgue or the newspaper and ask them to let me study past issues. It will be slower, but I’ll still be able to do it. But the police report would give me a head start. Will you do it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m putting you on the spot again, aren’t I?” She added wearily, “I don’t want to do that, Joe. I like you. Maybe I should go check out the newspapers.”

“Screw that. I’m not worried about being put on the spot. I’ll do what I want to do.” He said roughly, “I’ve gotten to know you. You’re going to get attached to those kids in the reports. You’re going to identify with the parents. It’s going to hurt you big-time.”

She just looked at him.

Yeah, what’s a snowball going to matter when it’s thrown at an avalanche, he thought.

“I can help, Joe,” she whispered. “No one would work harder or concentrate more on doing this than I would. Let me help find my daughter.”

“I’ll think about it,” he repeated. He signaled the waiter for the bill. “No promises.”