Stalemate, Page 3

  Joe stared into the darkness. He wanted to touch her, wake her, make love to her. He needed to do it.

  Christ, how insecure could he get? Sex should be pleasure, not a frantic effort to bring her back to him. They were so fantastic together physically that it was always a temptation to use it when he was frustrated in any other aspect of their relationship.

  And he’d use it again if he had to do it. He’d use anything he had or could dredge up from heaven or hell. She’d been the center of his universe for years and he didn’t know if he could survive without her.

  He wouldn’t have to do that. All he had to do was get past this remoteness he’d sensed in her during the last months. He’d blamed it on weariness. She always worked herself into exhaustion if he didn’t watch out for her. Then he’d blamed it on the fact that Jane was grown and on her own. It might have been a period of adjustment. It might be that—

  He was losing her.

  No! He instantly rejected the thought. He would not lose her.

  And he wouldn’t let her be killed by Montalvo or be drawn into the machinations of Soldono.

  Why the devil hadn’t Soldono answered his voice mail?

  In the morning he’d try again and then get on the phone and contact a few people he knew in the CIA in Washington.

  He turned over and looked at Eve.

  Lord, she was beautiful. She always told him he was crazy and that she wasn’t even pretty. Her features were more interesting than attractive. Her red-brown hair was clean and shiny but she always kept it short and simply coiffed. When she worked, she wore horn-rimmed glasses.

  But there was a world of intelligence and strength in those brown eyes and her lips were beautifully formed and sensitive. He loved to watch her expressions and try to bring a smile to those lips. Hell, he loved to watch her, period.

  He started to reach out to touch her.

  He stopped. No, this wasn’t the time to be impulsive. She was very delicately balanced right now.

  And their relationship was even more fragilely balanced. She’d probably deny it, but he sometimes believed he knew her better than she knew herself. He’d studied her, agonized with her, watched her with pride as she slowly healed and grew to be the woman she was.

  No, he’d be patient, he’d watch and wait.

  They had to get past this business with that bastard Montalvo before he could concentrate on clearing away any obstacles between them.

  Sleep. Don’t touch her. Don’t reach out and grab because you’re beginning to feel desperate….

  Joe was on the phone when Eve walked out on the porch after nine the next morning. He looked at her as he hung up. “No answer from Soldono.”

  “What the devil is going on? Do you suppose something’s happened to him?”

  “Do you mean do I think Montalvo got pissed off at him and killed him?” Joe shrugged. “We’ll find out. I’m going to make some calls. I’ll see if Venable in the CIA can track him down.”

  Venable. She vaguely remembered the name. “Will he talk to us about CIA business?”

  Joe’s lips tightened. “Oh, yes, he’ll talk to me. Go get yourself some breakfast. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “I just want some orange juice.” She turned toward the door. “I have to get back to work on Marty. I should have worked last night instead of fretting over something I couldn’t help.”

  “You’re allowed to be distracted occasionally.”

  “No, I’m not. Not when I have a job to do.” She moved toward the easel where Marty waited.

  Concentrate. Think about the boy who was lost. Forget everything else. Her fingers moved searchingly, delicately molding the clay over the cheekbones. It was the last stage of the reconstruction and the most definitive one.

  Let her hands work without thought.

  Smooth.

  Mold.

  Smooth.

  Help me, Marty….

  It took Joe almost an hour to get hold of Venable, and when the agent came on the line, his tone was reserved and unencouraging.

  “I can’t talk about Soldono, Quinn. He’s an agent on assignment. You were FBI at one time and you know that it puts our man at risk to discuss that assignment.”

  “We didn’t go to Soldono. He came to us. Now tell me what’s happening.”

  “Same answer.”

  “Venable.” Joe’s words spat out hard and fast with bullet velocity. “I don’t know what this is all about, but your man screwed up handling Montalvo. I don’t like having Eve put on the spot to correct that screwup. I don’t like it so much that if Soldono is still alive and kicking, I’m tempted to go down there and strangle the bastard. But Eve isn’t like me. She’s going to worry until she knows that Soldono is okay and that he reached Montalvo in time to stop him from executing a man. So you tell me what’s happening, dammit.”

  Venable was silent a moment. “I don’t know what’s happening. I haven’t heard from Soldono since he called me and told me that Eve had consented to deal with Montalvo. He was going to contact him immediately after he hung up and check back with me.”

  “He didn’t call?”

  “He didn’t call. I’ve been trying to reach him all night.”

  “Shit.”

  “I’ve sent a man to Montalvo’s compound to try to check on Soldono, but I won’t chance losing another man unless I’m sure Soldono is in danger.”

  “You ran a risk for that mole in Montalvo’s camp.”

  “Gonzales was valuable. Most of Montalvo’s men are loyal to him and the chances of getting another informant in his camp are practically nil. We have to know what he’s doing.”

  “Why? A two-bit weapons dealer?”

  “There’s nothing two-bit about Montalvo. You didn’t check deep enough. He’s the big man to go to for weapons in South America. He supplies drug dealers, rebels, militias, anyone with the money to pay. If we can’t stop him, we need to know where those weapons are going.”

  “And Gonzales was telling you.”

  “Until Montalvo caught him last week. He contacted Soldono and invited him to the compound for a discussion. You know the rest.”

  “A screwup.”

  “If it was, I have to bear the brunt of the blame. I told Soldono to stall, to find a way that wouldn’t involve pushing an American citizen into jeopardy.” He paused. “Actually, I was surprised that Montalvo thought Gonzales’s life or death would even matter to her.”

  “It would matter. When you work with death as much as Eve does, life takes on a very special value. But it worries the hell out of me that Montalvo would realize that about her. You wouldn’t think he’d—I want to know more about Montalvo.”

  “He’s smart, he’s deadly, and not always predictable. I don’t have time to fill you in on anything else about him right now. As you can see, I have a problem. I’ll phone you when I find out anything about Soldono.” He hung up.

  Joe slowly pressed the disconnect. His uneasiness was growing. Montalvo’s insight into Eve’s character was chilling. No threats to her family, she had said. Nothing that would trigger instant antagonism. But he’d still played on the sensitivity that was Eve’s core.

  He rose to his feet and went into the house. Eve was totally absorbed, her fingers flying over the features of her reconstruction. She didn’t look up as he came into the room. She had forgotten everything but her Marty and the task of bringing him home.

  For once he was grateful for that single-minded dedication that was a key quality of Eve’s. She wouldn’t even realize that time was passing if Venable didn’t get back to him right away.

  Eve carefully set the brown glass eyes into the sockets of the reconstruction and took a step back. It was the best she could do. She only hoped it would be good enough. “What about it, Marty?” she whispered. “You were a very handsome little boy, you know. Lord, I hope you have a safe haven somewhere now. I’ll do the computer work and then we’ll see if we can bring you home.”

  “Fini
shed?”

  She turned to see Joe sitting on the couch. She nodded and reached for the towel to wipe her hands. “Finished. It took a long time. It wasn’t coming.” She arched her back to ease the ache. “It’s almost dark.”

  “It was dark an hour ago.”

  “Oh.” She shook her head to clear it. It was always like this after she’d finished a reconstruction. Exhaustion, disorientation, and sadness. “Longer than I thought.”

  But the world was coming back to her now. “Did you get through to Soldono? No, that’s right, you were calling Venable.”

  “Venable hasn’t called me back yet. He doesn’t know anything about why Soldono isn’t answering his phone. Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll put a pizza in the oven and we’ll—” Joe’s cell phone rang. “Quinn.” He listened for a moment. “Okay, call you back.”

  “Something wrong?” Eve asked.

  “I don’t know. Venable got an anonymous message on his voice mail.”

  “What’s that to do with us?”

  “It was only two words. ‘Duncan. Porch.’ ”

  Her gaze flew to the screen door. “Porch.” She was across the room in a heartbeat.

  Joe beat her to the door. “Get the hell away from there.” His shove was not gentle. He opened the window to the right of the door, jerked the slender flashlight out of his pocket, and shone the beam out onto the shadowy porch. “Nothing. No one.” He swung over the windowsill onto the porch and crouched low. The beam played over every inch of the porch. A moment later he straightened. “No one’s here.”

  “False alarm?”

  “I didn’t say that.” The beam of his flashlight was focused over a rectangular Styrofoam box before the front door. “But at least the delivery boy is gone.”

  Eve jerked open the door and looked down at the box. Jesus, she was shaking. “What is it?”

  “No wires. That doesn’t mean that it’s not explosive.”

  She bent down and touched the top of the box. “It’s…cold.”

  “Keep your hands off it. Evidence.”

  “I don’t care. Dammit, Montalvo wouldn’t want to blow me up. Open it. If you have to preserve your damn evidence, do it. But open the box.”

  “The two actions don’t coincide. Oh, shit.” He took his penknife and carefully cut the tape binding and slowly opened the lid. “Step back while I—”

  Blood.

  “Oh, my God,” Eve whispered.

  Joe slammed the lid of the box shut.

  “No.” Her voice was shaking. “I’m okay. Open it again.”

  “You’ve seen it. It’s a man’s head.”

  “Open it.”

  He hesitated and then opened the box again. Brown eyes stared blindly up at her from the man’s head lying in the box.

  “Gonzales?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know. We have no idea what he looks like. It could be Soldono.”

  She felt sick. “Why? I told him we’d talk.”

  “He might be nuts. He might have recognized it as a stall. Who the hell knows?” He took out his phone. “But I do know I’m going to get a forensic team out here to examine this box.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to—” She stopped, gazing down at the head. “Wait. There’s something wrong.”

  “Tell me about it. Very wrong. The bastard beheaded him.”

  “No. The eyes…” She extended her hand toward the head.

  “Don’t touch him.”

  “I don’t think…” She moistened her lips. “At least, the eyes…” Her fingertips touched the left eye. She drew a deep breath. “Bring the box inside.”

  “I’m not moving it.”

  “I want more light.” She picked up the box herself. “If you won’t help, get out of my way.” She could hear Joe cursing as she set the box down on the floor inside the door. “It’s not what we thought.”

  He’s not what you think. He’s not what anyone thinks.

  Bonnie had said that about Montalvo, she thought absently. Or maybe Eve had sensed it from her conversations with Montalvo.

  “What do you mean?” Joe asked.

  “The eyes. They’re glass.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I wasn’t until I touched it. It just struck an off note when I was looking at him. I’ve put thousands of glass eyes in reconstructions over the years. And if he has phony eyes, he could—” She turned on the top light and looked at the bloody head. “That son of a bitch.”

  Joe muttered a curse. “It’s a fake.”

  “Not even a good fake. If it hadn’t been so dim on the porch, we would have been able to tell. And the blood didn’t help. It was immediate shock value.” She was shifting the model from side to side in the box, examining it. “Dry ice to make us believe it had to be refrigerated. Everything done very elaborately just to scare the hell out of me. It’s like a bratty kid’s practical joke. I want to—” She stopped as she caught sight of something lying in the pool of blood in the bottom of the box. An envelope. She picked it up and tore it open.

  “A letter?” Joe asked.

  “No letter. A photograph.” It was a photograph of a young, good-looking, dark-haired man with his arm around a smiling woman. Two children, a boy of about four and a girl who looked to be eight or nine, were standing before them. The little girl wore a stiff white dress and the boy was wearing a white shirt and tie. They looked like they were dressed up to go to church, Eve thought. “What the devil is this?” She turned the photo over and brushed a smear of blood that had leaked through the envelope to obscure the writing on the back. The ink had also smeared but she could read it. “Pedro and Maria Gonzales. Manuel and Rosa on her First Communion.” Her hands were bloody from handling the photo, she noticed dully as she dropped it. “The head definitely resembles the man in the photo. I suppose Montalvo wanted us to know who he was. It’s absolutely bizarre.” She whispered, “I hope that’s what he wanted to do.”

  “We’ve got to call Venable.”

  “Wait.”

  “Why?”

  “Montalvo’s going to phone me.” She sat back on her heels. “Any time now. He must have known we’d find out fairly quickly that his surprise package was a fake. He’s going to do a follow-up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybe.” Her gaze was fastened on the head. “He’s going to do it. I couldn’t be more certain.”

  The house phone rang.

  She jumped to her feet and ran toward the phone.

  “Did you get it?” Montalvo asked.

  “What kind of sadistic bastard are you? What did you think to accomplish by that macabre joke?”

  “You did get it. Then my timing is impeccable. I couldn’t have my courier stick around to make sure. There was always the chance Quinn might set out on his trail, and the man is valuable to me.”

  “I got it. And it didn’t fool me for more than a minute. Whoever did it was no expert.”

  “I didn’t have a lot of time to have it done properly.” He paused. “I had to examine my options. I was going to send you Gonzales’s head, but I liked this alternate better. I figured it would get your attention.”

  “Is Gonzales still alive?”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

  “Tell me.”

  He didn’t speak.

  “I told you I’d talk to you about the reconstruction.”

  “You were stalling me. I knew that would be your first reaction. Since I couldn’t get a commitment from you, I thought I’d take our negotiations a step further.”

  “Did you kill Gonzales? Soldono thought you would.”

  “And Soldono believes he knows me very well.”

  “What about Soldono? We couldn’t reach him.”

  He didn’t answer her. “Did you like the photo? I took it from Gonzales’s wallet. It’s a good likeness of him. Much better than that exhibit I sent you.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “And his wife an
d children? A handsome family, aren’t they? His wife and the boy and girl live in a village near the compound. He got a note from them yesterday. They don’t understand why he didn’t come to see them this weekend.”

  “Then let him go.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Because he’s dead?”

  “Why don’t you come here and see for yourself?”

  “Tell me.”

  He didn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t like playing these games with you. He’s not dead…yet. Neither are his wife and children.”

  “His family? You were going to kill his family?”

  “Ask Soldono what the punishment is for traitors among we savages here in the hills. One must have a deterrent to keep men from stepping over the line. Examples must be set.”

  “Children?”

  “No one knows better than you that children are far from sacred.”

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “I’ll make you a bargain. You come and do my reconstruction and I’ll forget about setting examples. I’ll send Gonzales and his family away and forget they exist.”

  “I couldn’t trust you.”

  “You can, you know. I keep my word.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You’re quite right. You don’t know me. I’ll have to give you something you want enough to take the risk. Let me see…Ah, I have it.” He was silent a moment. “I hear a faint echo. Am I on speaker phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you wanted Quinn to hear every word. Turn it off. This is just between you and me.”

  “I’d only tell him what you said after you hang up.”

  “It’s possible. Why don’t we see? Turn it off.”

  Joe motioned for her to turn it off.

  She picked up the phone and pressed the switch button. “Talk. What are you going to offer me that I can’t refuse?”

  “What do you want most in the world? What drives you and haunts you?”

  She found herself stiffening. “I want answers, not questions.”

  “You want one answer.” He paused and then said softly, “Bonnie. It’s all about Bonnie, isn’t it?”

  “I’m going to hang up.”

  “No, you won’t. Because there’s no road you won’t go down to find your Bonnie. Even one as murky as the one where I live. I’ll be very brief. You want to find the remains of your daughter. You want to find her killer. The pervert they executed didn’t kill her. You thought you’d found the true killer years ago but you’re not sure. You couldn’t prove it. I’ll find your Bonnie for you. I’ll find her killer. And if you want me to do it, I’ll dispose of him for you so that you don’t have to rely on the courts to do it.”