Iris Johansen - Quinn

“She told me her father was murdered. She saw it.”

“And she’s trying to learn from it. So maybe she’s the right person to talk to you about all of this.” She paused. “Unless you want to talk to me. You know I’m here for you, Luke.”

“I know.”

But he still couldn’t talk to her, she thought in pain. No matter how much she loved him, she was part of the problem. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “How are your studies going?”

“Okay. I finished Midsummer Night’s Dream . But I didn’t care much for it. I’ve started Julius Caesar, and I understand that better.”

“Yes, I can see you appreciating Julius Caesar. ” Ambition and murder and revenge. Luke would comprehend all of those nuances of character from his own experience. “ Midsummer Night’s Dream would have a little too much whimsy for you.”

“Maybe I’ll go back to it later and read it again if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to read it to please me. It doesn’t matter.”

“I… want to… please you.”

“That’s good, I want to please you, too. But let’s work on kindness and understanding instead of trying to shape each other’s tastes.”

“Okay.” Another pause. “Are you… well?”

“I’m fine. I should be able to get home soon.”

“I’d like… I know Kelly wants to see you.” He added, “Do you want to talk to her, should I go get her?”

“No, don’t bother her. Tell her I can’t wait to see her and give her my best. I’ll let you go now. I just wanted to check in and make sure you were all happy. I love you. Good-bye, Luke.”

“Good-bye.” He hesitated. “I want you to be happy, too, Catherine.” He hung up.

Someday, he would say he loved her. Someday it would happen.

“You said you were working your way through it,” Gallo said quietly. “It appears that sometimes it’s straight uphill.”

“You think that I mind that?” She swallowed hard to rid herself of the tightness of her throat. “We’re doing fine. Do you know what he went through? Every day that Luke was held by that son of a bitch, Rakovac, he was told that I was to blame. Every time he was whipped or thrown into a solitary cell, it was all my fault. It’s a miracle that he managed to realize that I wasn’t to blame. But there have to be residual effects from all that brainwashing. He can’t trust me even if he wants to.”

“What a bastard,” Gallo said grimly. “He’s dead, I assume?”

“Yes,” she said. “Slow and painful.”

“Good, then I won’t have to offer to do it for you.” He was studying her face. “You had to deal with finding him alone? Your husband?”

“He was murdered the night my son was kidnapped.”

“So you had to handle it by yourself. You might have had to do that anyway. He was in his sixties, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t know why people keep bringing that up,” she said impatiently. “Terry was a good man and great father. That’s all that matters.”

“If that was all that mattered to you.”

“Venable turned me over to him after I was recruited, and Terry taught me everything he knew about being an agent. We were good together.”

“As partners or as husband and wife?”

“Both. I wasn’t some romantic kid who didn’t know what was important. We had a good, solid marriage and had a beautiful child together. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” She defiantly met his gaze. “So it wasn’t anything like what you had with Eve. She said it was crazy and pure sex and nothing else. But in the end, it wasn’t about what you were together, it was about the child you had.”

“And was that what it was about with you and your husband? Your child, Luke?”

She was silent a moment. “I don’t know. We were together for such a short time. Terry wanted a child right away, and that was okay with me. But then, after Luke was born, my son was everything. I guess children change everything.”

“Yes.”

“You agree with me, but you never knew Bonnie,” she said. “I can’t believe all that ghost business, you know. You had me going for a little while, but I’m too hardheaded to really think that could happen.”

“Hardheaded.” He repeated the words reflectively. “What would happen if you’d lost your Luke, and he’d suddenly ‘returned’ to you? What if he was so real to you that all your doubts were crashing down around you? Would you reject him? Or would you let down the barriers and invite him back into your world?”

She shied away from even thinking about Luke taken from her in that most final way. Yet she’d had to face that possibility for the entire nine years of Luke’s captivity. It was clever of Gallo to bring the comparison with Luke into her rejection of the concept of the spirit Bonnie. “I don’t know what I’d do.” No, that wasn’t honest. “I can’t imagine a situation like that, but if it existed, I’d never shut Luke away from me even if it meant being locked up in the booby hatch.”

“The defense rests.”

“But the situation doesn’t exist, and what you and Eve are experiencing could be a hallucinogenic product of the emotional trauma that you’ve both suffered. Understandable, but with no basis in reality.”

“That sounds very slick,” Gallo said. “And not at all in keeping with what I’ve learned about you.”

“No, I’m not slick.” She wearily shook her head. “The opposite. I’m just trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, and I’m coming up short.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He pulled Jacobs’s Rolodex out of his jacket pocket. “We’ll try to put this puzzle together instead.”

She came toward him and watched as he flipped the pages of the Rolodex. “Anything?”

“Nate Queen’s address and phone. Several officers’ names who probably worked at Army Intelligence.” He flipped to the T. “No travel agency. I was hoping to save some time, but no luck. Evidently, he makes his own travel arrangements.” He flipped to C. He gave a low whistle. “An entire list of casinos.” His finger ran down the list. “Las Vegas, San Juan, Lima, Rio, New Orleans, Mobile, Rome, St. Louis, Monte Carlo…” He flipped the page. “And another entire page. Jacobs evidently traveled the world to satisfy his addiction.”

“Too many choices. No indication where he might have gone? No preferences?”

Gallo shook his head, still flipping pages. He reached a list of letters with telephone numbers beside them. “M. S. J. N. It seems that he didn’t want to be careless with these particular names.” He handed her the Rolodex. “Why don’t you give these numbers to Venable and see what he can come up with.”

She nodded and started dialing her phone. “No H for Humphrey.”

“Surprise. Surprise.” There was a knock on the door, and he stood up and moved to answer it. “That should be our food.” He checked the security view before opening the door. “I can use that coffee…”

Two hours later, Venable called back, and Catherine scribbled down the information.

She hung up and turned to Gallo. “He couldn’t trace the S, but they were able to pull up info on the others. Juan Martinez, hit man for the San Juan Mafia, Edward Nixon, no gang association but suspect in three murders in the U.S. and two in London, Randy Jason, former Army Ranger now suspected of two killings for hire in Jacksonville, Florida.”

“Martinez is Hispanic?”

She nodded. “And the name Humphrey doesn’t sound in the least Hispanic. It would catch attention and be remembered if Martinez didn’t look the part. So the gray Mercedes is probably Jason or Nixon.”

“Unless Jacobs found another errand boy.” Gallo went to the window again. “Still no Mercedes. Maybe he’s not ready to move yet.” He turned to face her. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep. I’ll stand watch.”