Iris Johansen: Bonnie

“Too bad. I don’t give a damn about you, Quinn. It was all about finding out who killed Bonnie. That’s still what it’s all about.”

The two men were like two lions, arching, frozen in place, but ready to attack, Catherine thought. She took a step forward, then stopped. They’d have to work it out for themselves sometime. It might as well be now.

But Gallo had seen that movement from the corner of his eye. “Catherine says I have to be diplomatic since I’m the one who has been causing all the trouble. She’s about to step in and take me out.”

“I’d be glad to save her the bother.” Then Joe glanced at Eve. “But you may not be important enough for me to deal with right now, Gallo.”

Oh, shit. Catherine saw the flicker of recklessness appear in Gallo’s expression again.

He said, “Perhaps I could up the ante, and that would make you think I’m-”

“Stop it.” Eve stepped forward between the two men and faced Gallo. “Catherine said that Jacobs knows who killed Bonnie. That’s all I care about. If you love Bonnie as much as you say, then that’s all that you should care about, too.” She paused. “I thought it was you, John. I’m still not certain it’s not. Prove it to me.”

“Yes, prove it to her, Gallo,” Joe said. “I think we need to talk to Thomas Jacobs.”

“Fine,” Catherine said. It was time to end this standoff. Joe and Gallo had too many of the same aggressive instincts, and the situation could become explosive. “If you want to ask Jacobs questions, then come upstairs and do it. Maybe you’ll have more luck than we did. He wasn’t talking.”

Gallo hesitated and gestured toward the stairs. “By all means. I was looking forward to questioning the bastard again myself, but I’ll forgo the pleasure. Catherine has already pointed out that I need to be kind and diplomatic to guests.”

“And you’re doing what she wants.” Eve was gazing at him searchingly as she started up the stairs. “I find that curious.”

“Do you?” He smiled. “But can’t you see I’m terrified of your friend Catherine?”

Catherine made a rude sound. “Shut up, Gallo.” She turned to Joe. “Jacobs is going to cause us trouble. I hope he’ll be more cooperative now that he’s had time to think.”

“He’ll be cooperative,” Joe said grimly as he moved past her up the stairs. “Tell me what he’s told you so far. No, on second thought, let me start fresh.”

“Lord, it’s chilly up here.” Eve shuddered as they reached the bedroom door. “What are you doing, Catherine? Are you trying to freeze information out of him?”

Catherine frowned. “It wasn’t this chilly before.” She opened the door. “I don’t know why it would-”

“Dear God!” Eve took a step back, her gaze on the bed. “Catherine?”

Catherine’s gaze followed Eve’s. She went rigid. “No, Eve, no. We didn’t- Gallo!”

There was water on the floor around the bed.

Thomas Jacobs was still bound, spread-eagled on the bed, just as they had left him.

And there was a knife sticking upright in his chest.

“Shit!” Gallo pushed by them and ran to the bed. Jacobs’s mouth was still taped and his eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. Gallo checked the pulse in his throat, but they all knew it wasn’t necessary. “Dead. But how the hell-”

“The window.” The sheer white drapes were blowing from the open window, and Catherine was there in a heartbeat. “We were downstairs. He had to come in the window.”

Dammit, she could see nothing through the heavy fog.

But she could hear something.

The splash of water being moved, the sound of suction in the mud…

“He’s in the bayou.”

“Heading south.” Gallo had already swung his legs over the sill and was climbing hand over hand down the side of the house to the roof of the porch.

Gallo might think he was Spider-Man, but she’d make almost as good time going down to the front door and wouldn’t risk falling and breaking her neck, Catherine thought. She turned and was running out the room when Joe grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“One question,” he said.

“I don’t have time , Joe.”

“You have time for this one.” His glance shifted to Jacobs. “This isn’t some con you set up to convince us that Gallo was innocent? You didn’t get overenthusiastic with that knife in Jacobs?”

Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t do that, Joe.”

His expression didn’t lose its hardness. “I wouldn’t think that you would. But I wouldn’t think you’d be so dedicated to exonerating Gallo either. I don’t know what’s going on with you, Catherine.”

She tore herself away from him, her eyes blazing. “And you think because he once managed to convince Eve that he was the sun and the moon, that he’d dazzle me so that I’d lie for him. No way, Joe. He didn’t kill Jacobs, and neither did I. We were both downstairs waiting for you. Whoever did this must have followed us from the casino.” She turned on her heel. “And now I’m going to go into that bayou and try to catch the son of a bitch.”

“Go on,” Joe said quietly. “Eve and I will be right behind you as soon as I figure out which-”

But she didn’t hear the rest because she was already down the stairs and throwing open the front door.

Swirling fog.

Dampness.

And the sudden splash of movement in the bayou.

“Gallo!”

“Here.”

He was already in the water

She took off her boots and socks, left her gun on the bank, and made sure her knife was firmly in its holster on her thigh. Then she jumped off the mossy bank and moved in the direction in which she’d thought she’d heard his voice.

The water was only up to her waist that close to the bank, but she couldn’t be sure what was in the water with her. Everything from water moccasins to alligators frequented the bayous. Just be careful and look sharp. She couldn’t see anything at any distance, but she would be able to tell if one of those predators was within striking distance.

Hell, she hated being blind in this dense mist. And Gallo would also be blind. They’d be lucky if they didn’t attack each other. But she didn’t want to call out again and draw possible fire.

Or another wicked knife like the one in Jacobs’s chest.

Move slowly, as silently as possible in the water.

She listened.

She couldn’t hear Gallo moving through the water. Not even a whisper of sound.

Where was-

“Catherine.”

She jerked with shock. He was right beside her. His white shirt was plastered to his body, and his sheathed bowie knife was shoved into the waist of his black trousers.

His gaze was fixed on the south. “He’s heading in that direction. Every now and then, I can hear him brush against something. Or he’ll startle a bird, and I’ll hear the wings…”

Catherine started forward. “What are we waiting for?”

“He’s very good. Damn good. We go too fast and lose his sound, and he could circle and come up behind us. There are times I can’t hear him at all. The bayou is deeper once you get a distance from the bank. He’s probably swimming.” He was silent again. “Do you hear that?”

Birds moving from branch to branch.

“He’s going southwest now.” He started forward. “You circle and see if you can come at him from the west. I’ll track him on the direct route.”

“West,” she repeated as she started out. “You said Jacobs’s killer was so good. Yet we heard him plainly from Jacobs’s bedroom.”

“He was in a hurry. He’d probably just finished knifing Jacobs when we were coming up the stairs. He needed to get in the water and away from the bank.”

“And after those first few minutes, he felt safe and could take his time.”