Iris Johansen - Stalemate

"What do we do?"

"What do you think? We toss dirt into this damned grave and then we go after that skull."

"At his compound? You said it was too well-armed to attack."

"I want that skull. I'll do whatever I have to do to get it."

"We'll have to get more men from Bogota."

"You fool. There's no time. Of course we'll send for more men but we have to move quickly now. He wouldn't have brought that woman down here to cool her heels after he got the skull. She'll be working on giving that skull a face now. We have to buy time." He strode toward the cemetery gates. "No more mistakes. We have to take out Eve Duncan."

Eve was just out of the shower when there was a knock. She threw on a robe and opened the door.

"Quinn knows," Galen said. "You blew it."

"Damn. How?"

"He says you paid him a late-night visit smelling of those alcohol towels you use when you're working on a reconstruction."

"Stupid," she said in self-disgust. "Lord, I was stupid. I should have known he'd recognize that smell. He wasn't that far out of it. He even commented on my body lotion earlier in the evening."

"It wasn't bright," Galen said. "Couldn't you wait until today to see him?"

"Of course I could." She grimaced. "But I didn't want to wait."

"Because you were feeling a little bit as if you'd betrayed him by doing the reconstruction?"

She stiffened. "I'm trying to save his life."

"Very laudable motive." His eyes were narrowed on her face. "But weren't there a few other reasons why you wanted to do the reconstruction?"

"All right, I wanted it for me too. Montalvo gave me hope and I ran with it. There's nothing wrong with that as long as no one else is hurt. I did everything I could to keep Joe out of it."

"I'll testify to that. But you should have been more devious if you wanted to fool Quinn. Now you've got damage control."

"I'm not good at devious." She nibbled at her lower lip. "How did he take it?"

"He's royally pissed off. What do you expect? He tried to get out of bed and go to see you. Then he got grim and quiet."

She knew that mood. Joe was at his most dangerous when that first anger ebbed away. "I'll go to see him before I go to the library." She turned away. "Thanks for warning me."

"I tried to take some of the flak but he still has plenty of ammunition left for you. I don't blame him. I'd probably feel the same way. You had your reasons and they may have been good ones. But he doesn't like the idea of being protected and he doesn't like being left out."

"Too bad. This is my problem and I won't have him suffering for it. He's already gone through too much."

"But now you have another problem. Keeping him from exploding like a live grenade and blitzing all of us." He started down the hall. "I've already had a little taste of that and I'm not willing to stand still for it again. I'm patient, I'm not a martyr. Fix it, Eve."

Fix it, she thought in exasperation as she tossed on her clothes and ran a brush through her hair. How was she supposed to fix anything when every minute of her time, every iota of her mind, was going to be absorbed by the reconstruction of Nalia Armandariz?

The only thing she could do was be honest with him. She didn't have some sort of magical sticky glue to bond together all the pieces that seemed to be splintering. If she couldn't make him see her point of view, then she had to blast right through the situation in the only way she knew.

Ten minutes later she was opening the door to Joe's room. He was sitting up in bed and his expression was not encouraging.

"I had to do it, Joe," she said quietly.

"That's what I hear from Galen." His tone was cold. "It would have been nice to hear it from you."

"You would have argued with me."

"Considering the length of time we've lived together I believe that's my privilege."

"Maybe." She wearily shook her head. "I'm tired of arguing, Joe. We haven't been doing anything else since this business began. You're not going to change my mind. And evidently I can't change yours either. Stalemate."

"I can't accept that. I won't accept it."

"Then you'll have to suck it up and deal with it," she said bluntly. "I'm going to do the reconstruction and turn it over to Montalvo. Then I'm going to go home to Atlanta and wait for Montalvo to pay me back. I can't do anything else. I need to see if he'll go through with his promise. I need him to do that, Joe."

"Do you also need Diaz to cut your throat? That's what you're setting yourself up for."

"I'll take the risk. It's worth it to me. I'm close, Joe. I haven't been this close to finding Bonnie for years."

"You're blind."

She smiled shakily. "Possibly. But you've known that for a long time." She turned and opened the door. "I'm not going to change."

"I won't sit back and let you do this. I'm going to get out of this bed and I'm going after Diaz. I don't care what Montalvo is planning for him. He's going down."

She didn't look back at him. "And I'll try to stop you." She tried to steady her voice. "I guess that makes the situation very clear."

"Eve."

She stopped in the act of closing the door. "What?"

"Why did you come to me last night?"

"Why not? I always come to you when I'm hurting." She drew a shaky breath. "But I guess I can't do that anymore."

She shut the door.

Jesus, her eyes were stinging. She wasn't accustomed to Joe being that hard and cold. Not with her. She felt… bereft.

"Not a happy visit?"

She looked up to see Montalvo coming down the hall.

"A lousy visit." She cleared her throat to ease it of aching tightness. "I hurt his pride. I hurt him. Sometimes I wonder why he stays with me."

"I don't." He smiled. "And I thought he was not that foolish either. It gives one hope."

"Don't play games, Montalvo. I'm not up to it right now."

"Games are for business, not the personal." He nudged her gently toward the stairs. "Go get something to eat. Miguel is waiting for you. I don't want you to go to the library until you have something in your stomach."

"I'd no intention of not eating. It's painstaking work right now. The end of a reconstruction is a different matter. That's all instinct and flow…"

He nodded and then said quietly, "Thank you for covering the reconstruction last night before you left. It made it easier to go in there this morning." His lips twisted. "I had no idea I was such a coward. I was actually dreading it."

"I know." She started down the stairs. "But you shouldn't. Come to peace with her." She stopped on the landing. "Any word about Diaz?"

"Ripples from my informants in Bogota. He's calling for reinforcements."

"Attack?"

"Probably."

"Can the CIA help you?"

"Why should they? The CIA considers me as troublesome as Diaz. I'll handle it. What do you want me to do about Quinn?"

She hesitated and then made the decision. "He's going after Diaz. I don't want you to let him do it. Stop him."

His brows rose. "He's not going to like you for asking this."

"Then he'll have to dislike me. I can't have him dead." She continued down the stairs. "If we're lucky, he may be too weak to make a move but I have to take measures in case he tries."

"And I'm the measure?"

"I can't watch him day and night. I'm going to be busy with your Nalia. You keep him safe."

"An exchange of caretaking of one significant other for another?"

"Yes, but my significant other is alive and I want to keep him that way." She saw Miguel hurrying toward her across the hall as she reached the bottom of the steps. "Will you bring me a sandwich and soup right away, please, Miguel? And another pot of black coffee in about two hours."

A few minutes later she was closing the door of the library behind her. The tears were gone but the sadness remained. She had a feeling that the rift that was widening between Joe and her was becoming more frightening with every spoken word.