Iris Johansen - Chasing the Night

“It’s still pouring,” Eve said as she leaned back in the porch swing and gazed out at the veil of rain enclosing them. “See, Catherine. You’re much better off here for the night.”

“If you say so.” Catherine lifted her cup of coffee to her lips. “I spent most of the last year in a tent in the jungle. I would have survived.” She smiled. “But just surviving isn’t macaroni casserole and a warm, cozy home. I enjoyed dinner. Thank you for having me. I should be grateful for the storm. I am grateful.”

“That’s saying something since I had to blast you away from that tent.” Joe was leaning against the porch rail a few yards away. “More coffee?”

“Yes.” Catherine jumped to her feet. “But I’ll get it. You’ve waited on me enough for one day. I’m not accustomed to it.” She headed for the door. “Joe? Eve?”

“Not for me,” Joe said.

“I’ll take another cup,” Eve said. “I need the caffeine. I want to work an hour or two more tonight.”

“Good. I’ll join you.” Catherine disappeared into the house.

“You’ll probably both be working until dawn.” Joe’s gaze had followed Catherine as she’d gone into the house. “And through no manipulation by Catherine. Amazing.”

“She’s trying to be fair,” Eve said. “It’s difficult for her. She wants so desperately to forge ahead.” She lifted her cup to her lips. “She didn’t mention Luke or Rakovac once this evening.” Catherine had spoken of her life growing up in Hong Kong, her years working for the CIA, her last job trying to rescue the Winters father and daughter. She had led a bizarre and colorful existence, and her recounting of it had been matter-of-fact and completely without self-pity. Eve had gotten an entirely different view of her. Tough, cynical, she certainly was, but there was a humanity that tempered that hardness. “It must have been difficult for her. I know that must be all that’s on her mind now.”

“But she’s smart enough to know that overwhelming melancholy is hard to live with. Instead, we’re seeing her as a complete, balanced person.” He paused. “And, therefore, worthy of any help she needs.”

“You’re thinking she’s that calculating?” She shook her head. “Bullshit. You’re fighting it, but you don’t believe she’s that cold. Admit it, you like her.”

He chuckled. “How could I help it? She made sure we both saw her tonight as warm and human, even vulnerable. Yes, I like her. But I won’t discount the fact that she’s clever as hell and has the potential for being a ticking time bomb.”

“Neither will I,” Eve said. “But you have to accept her as a complete package.”

“Remember that when you’re melting with sympathy. She’s…complicated.”

“Is that why you were watching her all through dinner? You’ve never appreciated the simple in anything.”

“I was staring at her because she’s very watchable. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s damn good-looking. She’s a cross between Lucy Liu and Angelina Jolie with megawattage thrown into the mix. It’s hard not to look at her.”

“I noticed.” But she felt a ripple of surprise that Joe had admitted to being conscious of that attractiveness when he was clearly so wary. “But I don’t think that she’s aware of it.”

“Oh, she’s aware of it.” His lips twisted. “It’s a weapon, and Catherine would know how to use it if it became necessary. She knows all about weapons. Perhaps it’s just not a weapon of choice.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right. She’s had to live in a man’s world, and that kind of weapon would end in a sexual battle. I can’t see her using sex to beat out an opponent. She’d regard it as beneath her.”

“You think you know her that well?”

She shrugged. “As well as I can under the circumstances. We all have instincts about people. My instincts say that she saw her mother as a sexual victim and she would never want to engage anyone on that particular battlefield. And growing up in the streets, she must have been exposed to all kinds of vice. It just shows how strong she is that she overcame that twisted background enough to marry and have a child.” She added softly, “A beautiful child, Joe. The older he gets, the more he looks like Catherine. I’ll show you the progressions if you like.”

“I’ll wait until you finish. You’re already besotted with the kid. That’s almost more dangerous than your liking for Catherine.”

“But you said you liked her, too.” She smiled. “And that logical, analytical mind of yours would like to take her apart and put her back together again to see how she ticks.”

“That leads to thoughts of ticking bombs.” He inclined his head. “I’m curious, and I don’t mind being the one to defuse her. Better me than you.”

“I’d mind. I don’t want either you or her to be hurt.”

He lifted his cup to her in a half salute. “As you command. Then I’ll try to restrain my curiosity…within limits.”

“Curiosity?” Catherine stood in the doorway with a carafe of coffee in her hand. “Have you been talking about me, Joe Quinn?”

“Yes. Though Eve and I do have other things to discuss than you.”

“But I’m the new comet on the scene.” She came toward them and filled Eve’s cup. “And I’m a very flashy comet. I’ve disturbed your lives, and naturally I’d be the center of attention.” She filled her own cup and set it on the swing before turning to Joe. “Go ahead. Ask your questions. I promised Eve I’d have no secrets from her.” She crossed to stand before him, and said challengingly, “Try me.”

He smiled faintly. “What bravado. Wouldn’t you be deflated if I said I just wasn’t interested?”

“But you are. I overheard the word ‘curious.’” She topped off the coffee in his cup and turned back to the swing and sat down beside Eve. “You’re a detective. You have an inquiring mind. It goes with the territory. I tried to be open with you at dinner. Not enough?”

“I found myself wondering about a few things.”

“What?”

“Your relationship with Venable and the CIA. Why are you still working with them? They wouldn’t help you search for your son. You should have been furious with them.”

“I was. I still am. They did try to find him, but when they couldn’t locate him, they refused to go any further. They wouldn’t go after Rakovac.” She took a drink of her coffee. “I resented it with all my being.”

“But you still continued to work for them.”

“Because I knew my time would come.” She gazed at him. “And, bitter as I feel, I understand who they are and where they’re coming from. When I’m able to think about it sanely, it’s exactly what I’d expect from them. Venable thinks that he recruited me all those years ago. He’s wrong. I went after that job with all the determination I put into everything I do. I had a choice. Either continue in the path I’d started or walk a different road. I was tired of fighting the scum on their level. I wanted to be one of the good guys.”

“There are those who would give you an argument about the CIA’s good-guy quotient.”

“Because they haven’t been on the other side. How do you keep to some idealistic set of rules when your opponent has no rules? It’s a complicated world, and someone is always trying to destroy it in one way or the other. The only thing we can do is try to keep it intact. That way it has a chance of building itself back into something worthwhile.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it gets dirty and ragged while we’re doing it. That’s too bad, but it happens. Sometimes, important, personal things get pushed aside.”

“Like your son,” Eve said.

She nodded. “But there’s no way in hell I can see past Luke to the big picture. He is the big picture.” She glanced at Joe. “You were FBI at one time. One of those white knights bound by law and rules and structure, but I’d bet there were times when you felt like breaking every one of them.” She leaned forward, her gaze fixed intently on his face. “Am I wrong?”