Iris Johansen - Quinn

Joe was dying, and they weren’t going to be able to save him. That was why they were going to let Eve go to him. To say good-bye.

She couldn’t say good-bye. He had to stay with her.

She leaned her head on the plate-glass window and closed her eyes. She felt the tears running down her cheeks as the agony flowed through her.

Look at him. Surely she’d be able to know, to sense some change. Maybe they were wrong. Doctors didn’t know everything.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She stiffened in shock.

Bonnie.

Through the years she had often had visions and dreams of her daughter. Then she had come to believe they weren’t visions at all. It didn’t matter. Real or not, having Bonnie come to her had made life worth living and let her come alive in so many ways.

But now something was different.

Bonnie, in her Bugs Bunny T-shirt, her red-brown hair shining in the lights of the ICU, as she stood by Joe’s bed, looking down at him.

Her expression… Love. Perfect love.

Why was she here?

The fear became terror.

To take him away, to ease the transition from this life to the next?

“No, Bonnie!”

Her daughter looked across the room at Eve standing behind the glass.

She smiled luminously. But then turned back again to gaze down at Joe with that same expression of love.

What did that smile mean? Could she help him to live?

Or could she only help him to die?

Eve’s palms pressed against the cold glass as tension and sorrow tore through her.

“Joe!”

SWIRLING darkness.

Someone calling.

“Joe!”

Calling him…

But he didn’t want to leave the darkness. There was comfort here and yet also a strange excitement and anticipation.

Was this death?

He had never been afraid of it. He wasn’t now.

But that voice calling…

Eve.

She was hurting, needing him. He should go back.

And there was someone else…

Bonnie.

She was there in the darkness. Always before she had been the stranger, the one apart; but now she was close, as familiar to him as Eve, and much of the comfort was coming from her. Did she want him to stay in the darkness?

But he could feel Eve’s terror and sadness.

He had to stop them both and try to make Eve happy.

As she made him happy…

He had known from the first moment he had seen her all those years ago that he could not be happy if he was not with her.

Strange… He had not believed that love could come out of nowhere and stay forever. He had been such a cynical son of a bitch. Smart, young FBI agent, sure of himself and everything around him, ready to take on the world.

He’d been certain the Bonnie Duncan kidnapping wasn’t going to be a problem. The local Atlanta police were sure that she was the victim of a serial killer, and the little girl would never show up alive. Sad story, but Joe had worked on other serial killings and had experience in profiling as well. He was well qualified to take on the case. He’d go down to Atlanta and dive in and show the locals how the FBI could handle a case like Bonnie’s.

But he wouldn’t get involved with the family of the victim no matter how sympathetic he was toward them. That was always a mistake. It was better to stand apart so that he could work without emotion. That would be far more efficient.

Yes, after all, it was just one more case. A few months in Atlanta, and he’d be coming back to start another job. There was nothing about this Duncan case in Atlanta to interfere with his career, certainly nothing to interfere with his life…

The Past

Federal Bureau of Investigation

Quantico, Virginia

“I HEAR PACKER GAVEyou the Duncan case.” Jenny Rudler smiled as she stopped by Joe’s desk. “I was hoping to get it. There’s been a lot of media attention since the kid was taken. I could use a high-profile case. It would help me break through the glass ceiling. But, no, the fair-haired boy was the chosen one.”

“Does the FBI have a glass ceiling?”

“You’re damn right it does.” She perched on the corner of his desk. “Why not tell Packer you need a partner?”

And Jenny would be stepping all over him trying to break that ceiling. He didn’t need that. “Maybe next time.”

Her smile faded. “Bastard. Damn, you’re cocky. You have it all, don’t you? Rich kid, Harvard grad, hero in the SEALs. Then you decide you want to be an FBI agent. So everyone is supposed to bow down and give you anything you want.”

He held on to his temper. “That’s right. But I’ll make an exception in your case. I’ll settle for you just staying out of my way. I worked for everything I’ve gotten here at the Bureau. Back off, Jenny.”

She hesitated, and suddenly the belligerence was gone. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Her smile was dazzling. “I was really upset. It seems as if I’m not getting anywhere, and I’m frustrated as hell. Forgive me?”

He shrugged.

“No, I mean it. Let me make it up to you. When do you leave for Atlanta?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Then come over tonight, and we’ll have a few drinks.”

Which meant that they’d end up in bed as they had a few times before. For a moment, he was tempted. She wasn’t bad in bed, and he required sex often and varied.

“You were real good,” Jenny murmured. “Maybe the best. We had a good time, didn’t we?”

But he didn’t need the strings that Jenny would attach to any relationship, even the most casual. He didn’t mind paying for sex, but not in the workplace. That could be a big-time headache.

“I’m busy. Sorry.”

Her smile disappeared. “I’m not. Who needs you?” She turned on her heel. “There are a lot of people here who resent you and are just waiting to stab you in the back. You’d be smart to keep the friends you have. Have a good time in Atlanta.”

Translated that meant go to hell, Joe thought, as he watched her walk away. She had a nice ass. Should he change his mind and go after her? He was always more attracted when there was a challenge involved. That was why he had come to work at the FBI. Life had been too flat after his service in the SEALs.

No, curb that recklessness for once. He’d find enough of a challenge in Atlanta. Probably not physical, but definitely mental.

He turned back to the folder on his desk and flipped it open.

Bonnie Duncan.

230 Morningside Drive

Atlanta, Georgia

IT WAS A NICE LITTLE HOUSEin a nice little neighborhood, Joe thought as he got out of the rental car. Inexpensive, but clean and freshly painted. It had a wide front porch, and red-orange geraniums were overflowing from a hanging straw basket.

A car was in the driveway, a gray Ford at least seven or eight years old. It appeared as clean and well taken care of as the house. Every detail of the house and automobile spoke of meager funds but a determination by the occupants to make the best of what they had.

But in Joe’s experience, the obvious didn’t always end up to be the truth.

He rang the doorbell.

No answer.

He waited and rang it again.

No answer.

There were reasons why Eve Duncan would not answer the bell, but he still felt a little annoyed. How the hell could he help her if she shut herself away from him like this? Overcome it. Do your job, he told himself. He had to do the interview before he could dismiss Eve Duncan from his mind and get down to the business of finding her daughter’s killer.