Текст книги "Bonnie"

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

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.”

“As I said, he’s really good. Be careful, Catherine…” He disappeared into the mist.

But that mist wasn’t as thick, she realized suddenly. Gallo had gone at least four yards before she had lost him. Maybe the fog was dispersing.

She went a few more yards, her hopes rising with every step. They had gotten lucky. Yes, the mist was definitely lifting. They’d soon be able to see the bastard who had killed Jacobs.

And the killer would be able to see them.

*   *   *

“THE FOG’S BEGINNING TO lift,” Joe said, as he and Eve reached the edge of the bayou. “That will help.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the car. “We can’t help Catherine much in that swamp. Come on, we’ll take the car and go along the road bordering the bayou. We didn’t see any sign of a car when we drove up to the house, so he must have parked up ahead and around the curve of the bayou. That’s where he’ll probably be heading.”

Eve nodded as she got into the car. “Then why would he jump into—” She answered herself. “A false trail. So that we wouldn’t find his car.” A bold move, possibly a deadly move. Catherine and Gallo had followed him into the bayou and were trying to find him while lumbering blindly in the thick fog. Joe said it was lifting, but not enough.

Please, let us have a break in this damn fog.

“I’ll go slow. Hell, I have to go slow.” Joe had already started the car and hit the lights. “You keep an eye out. He could have come back to the bank anywhere along the road.”

She nodded, her eyes straining as they tried to pierce the thick layers of fog hovering on the bank. She rolled down the window so that she could better hear anyone moving in the water. Her heart was pounding, and the muscles of her stomach were clenched with fear.

She had a sudden memory of Bonnie’s face as she’d seen it earlier as they were driving here, drifting in the fog. Joe had thought that Eve might have imagined seeing the ghost of her daughter because of the stress she was under.

It wasn’t imagination. She had seen Bonnie, a spirit so sad that it had broken Eve’s heart. Such terrible sadness.

Why? Did Bonnie know what was going to happen and was sad for all of them. For what reason? The death of Jacobs?

Or the death of someone else, someone whose death Bonnie knew would hurt Eve? A chill went through her at the thought. Not Joe. Please God, not Joe. You’ve just given him a new lease on life. Not Catherine, who had hardly started to know the meaning of joy and had a son who needed her. Not Gallo, who had perhaps suffered more than all of them.

If this is the end, shouldn’t it be you and me, baby?

“Eve.” His eyes were on the road ahead of him, but Joe’s voice was soft but clear. “It’s going to be all right. We’re going to get through this together.”

She nodded jerkily. “I know, Joe.”

Together. Yes, they’d be together, but maybe not right away.

Eve could not forget the sadness in her daughter’s face.

Let it be me, Bonnie.

*   *   *

CATHERINE STOPPED AND stood still in the water as she saw the pale, fog-shrouded glow of headlights on the road leaving from the direction of the house.

Joe and Eve.

Smart.

They were betting that the man who had killed Jacobs had a car parked somewhere on that road bordering the bayou. It was reasonable that he’d be heading across the bayou in the direction where he’d left it.

She tried to pull up a mental picture of the curve of the road around the bayou. Gallo had said the terrain was shaped like a hook …

And Gallo had told her that they should go southwest.

And sent her west.

But the hook of land surrounding the bayou extended to the east. That would be where that car would be parked. Southeast. And Gallo was heading due south.

And would probably soon veer to the southeast.

Damn him.

Anger was seething through her. The son of a bitch was trying to protect her. Who the hell did he think he was? She was every bit as competent a professional as he. She should have slapped that damn macho tendency down as soon as it raised its head. Now it was getting in the way of her job.

And could get them both killed.

But not if she could help it.

She turned and headed southeast.

*   *   *

JACOBS’S KILLER WAS definitely heading southeast toward the hook of land bordering the bayou, Gallo thought.

He could hear him, and, if he got lucky, soon he might be able to see him.

The fog was lifting for a few seconds, hovering, then closing down again. All he’d need would be those few seconds to draw his knife and hurl it.

If he was close enough.

And he would be close enough.

He could feel the excitement and tension searing through him. Another hunt. But this was nothing like the hunt with Catherine. Even in the darkest hours of those days, he’d known that it was different from anything he’d ever experienced. There might have been lethal danger, but it had been coupled by challenge. This hunt was different. No beautiful, sleek panther who could turn and rend him in the flash of an eye.

This was only prey.

And the sounds of the prey were approaching closer to that far bank.

The fog lifted …

Gallo caught a swift glimpse of the shadowy bank, a gnarled cypress tree dipping its roots in the water, Spanish moss hanging from another tree near—

Near a gleam of metal. A car?

He couldn’t be sure. The fog had closed in again, dammit.

But that gleam of metal was a little too opportune. The bank had to be the prey’s destination.

He began to carefully, silently, swim toward it.

*   *   *

CATHERINE PULLED HERSELF from the water onto the bank. Now that she had a destination, she could move faster over ground. She should be somewhere near the road, and the car would probably not be parked on the road itself but hidden in the shrubbery.

She moved swiftly through the heavy palmettos and shrubbery that bordered the bank. Her sopping-wet clothes were clinging to her body, and the soles of her bare feet were being scratched, cut, and bruised with every step.

Pain.

Her feet were bleeding.

Ignore it. Block everything out. Concentrate on the job.

She had to find Jacobs’s killer before he got away.

Find the car. Wait for him to show.

But she had to be careful. She couldn’t kill the bastard even though it would be safer.

Eve still needed him. Eve still had to know about her Bonnie.…

*   *   *

EVE STRAIGHTENED IN HER seat. “I saw someone.”

Joe tensed. “Where?”

“He’s gone now. I only got a glimpse. This damn fog. Not close. Around that bend. I saw someone climbing out of the water onto the bank.”

“Gallo? Catherine?”

She shook her head. “He was thin, wearing a dark blue or black wet suit.”

“Around that bend?” Joe pulled to the side of the road. “Then we go the rest of the way on foot. We still have to use the lights, and we don’t want to scare him off.” He got out of the car. “I can do this alone, Eve.”

“No, you can’t.” She jammed her hand into the pocket of her Windbreaker and gripped her .38 revolver. A weapon to protect Joe as Joe had always protected her. Would it do any good? The more time that passed, the greater the cold dread that was icing through her.

She got out of the car and joined him as he strode into the brush bordering the bayou. “You said together, Joe.”

*   *   *

HE HAD HIM.

A man in a dark wet suit, tall, thin, moving quickly along the bank toward the gleam of metal that Gallo had identified as a vehicle.

Yes.

Gallo unsheathed his knife as he stood up in the shallow water near the bank.

Dammit.

The prey had disappeared as a fresh billow of fog descended.

No, there he was again. He was moving with a lithe jauntiness as if he had all the time in the world.

You don’t have any time at all, bastard.

Bring him down permanently or just wound him? Gallo thought as he raised the knife and lined up the target. It would depend on how long he had before the fog settled down once—

Oh, my God.

No!

His hand holding the knife fell nervelessly to his side as he stared in horror at the man in the wet suit.

No. No. No.

Not prey at all.

But the man had sighted prey of his own, Gallo realized.

His stance had changed and now he was in stalking mode. He’d drawn a knife from the holster at his waist.

Stalking whom?

Catherine.

Catherine, standing at the edge of the trees. Catherine, setting her own trap for the man who had killed Jacobs, the man who had killed Bonnie.

Dammit, what is wrong with me? Gallo thought in agony. Throw the knife.

CHAPTER

3

IT WASN’T A NEW VEHICLE, Catherine noticed as she cautiously approached. It was a beat-up blue Chevy truck and the tires looked worn, almost bald.

No sign of the driver of the truck.

She’d been listening and hadn’t heard anyone come out of the bayou.

But she might not have been able to hear him. Gallo had said this creep was good. She trusted Gallo’s judgment.

When it didn’t concern his damned chauvinistic attitude toward her.

She stopped. She’d been tempted to check out the license plate and the glove box of the truck. Not smart. Better to wait and do all that later. Now she should wait and watch and listen.

Not much watching with this fog, but she could listen.

No sound.

The fog had come in again, and the truck was only a hazy outline before her. But she’d probably have company soon. Just wait and pounce when he came on the bank.

She stiffened. Something was wrong. She felt it. The hair on the back of her neck was tingling.

*   *   *

“THERE’S SOMEONE OVER there in the trees.” Joe grabbed Eve’s arm and pulled her to a halt. His eyes narrowed. “I think it’s Catherine.” He froze. “Oh, shit.”

She could see why he was cursing as she saw the tall man in the wet suit directly behind Catherine. Nothing could be clearer than that he was on the attack.

“I can’t get a clear shot,” Joe said with frustration as he put his gun down. “He’s right behind her. I’ll shoot her, dammit.” He moved to the side. “I’ll see if I can get him from another angle. Don’t call out and startle him. I don’t want to have him move on her before I can get my shot.”

If there was enough time.

It was going to be Catherine, Eve realized in agony. Catherine was the one who was going to die. And Eve had to stand there and watch it happen. She couldn’t even cry out and warn her.

But Catherine had been with Gallo in the bayou. Why wasn’t he there?

Dammit, where was Gallo?

*   *   *

THROW THE KNIFE.

Gallo’s hand was frozen on the hilt.

He had to move, but he couldn’t do it. Not this time.

It was as if everything were happening in slow motion.

He could see Catherine stiffening and knew those wonderful instincts with which he’d become so familiar were in play.

She knew.

Even as he watched, he saw her whirl and start to drop to the ground as she saw her attacker.

Too late.

He was already on Catherine, his knife raised.

It was coming down.

She was going to die.

“No!” The agonized cry tore from Gallo’s throat.

He threw the knife.

*   *   *

DEAR GOD, HE’S FAST, Catherine thought as she reached for the knife in the holster on her thigh.

Fall. Roll. Then stab the bastard in the gut.

But he was over her, his dagger coming down and—

He screamed as a bowie knife pierced the hand holding the knife and came out the other side!

Gallo’s bowie knife. She recognized it. And Gallo standing in the water several yards from the bank.

It gave her enough time to roll away and get her knife out of the holster.

“Dammit, get out of the way, Catherine.”

She glanced toward the trees. Joe. Trying to get his shot.

She rolled to the side.

The man in the wet suit was cursing as he turned and ran toward the bayou, bent low and zigzagging.

A shot.

Missed.

Then he was in the water. He reached out and jerked out the dagger piercing his hand, and threw it aside as he dove beneath the surface.

Catherine jumped to her feet and was at the bank of the bayou in seconds.

“Gallo, get him!” she called as she jumped off the bank into the water.

Gallo didn’t answer, and she couldn’t see him. The fog had come down again.

“Catherine, no!” Joe was suddenly standing on the bank beside the cypress tree. “Come back. Don’t take a chance. Don’t trust him.”

Of course, she wasn’t going to trust that murderer. He’d just tried to kill her. “He’s okay, Joe. Gallo’s somewhere out here, too. We’ll get the bastard. He’s wounded and losing blood.” She was starting to swim away from the bank. “Gallo!”

“Catherine, listen to me.” Joe’s voice was harsh, his fists clenched at his sides. “It’s Gallo I’m talking about. I saw his face. He wasn’t going to throw that knife. He wasn’t going to save you. Gallo didn’t care if you lived or died.”

Shock went through her. “No, you’re wrong, Joe. He did save me. Look, I can’t talk.” She began swimming faster. “I’ll blow my chance of getting that bastard. You’d better jump in the car and patrol the road. He might try to get out of the water as soon as he can. The blood is going to draw alligators.”

“Catherine!”

She couldn’t see him any longer. She was surrounded by the thick, heavy mist that felt as if it was going to smother her. She suddenly felt very much alone. But she wasn’t alone. There was a murderer out there who had been within an instant of killing her. Was he close? He could be only yards away from her and she wouldn’t know it. It would be smart of him to lie in wait and ambush any pursuers. It was probably what she would have done.

Her heart was beating hard, she could feel her pulse jumping in her throat.

She stopped swimming and listened.

She heard … something, a displacement of water … Where had it come from? Dammit, where was Gallo? She could have used someone to watch her back.

Gallo doesn’t care whether you live or die.

She heard the sound again. Closer.

She tensed, her hand reached down and grabbed her knife.

Come and see what’s waiting for you, son of a bitch. I’ve been on my own all my life. What was I thinking? I don’t need any help from Gallo or anyone else.

Come and get me.

*   *   *

SHE LISTENED AGAIN. She thought she heard the sound of moving water to the north.

To hell with staying and waiting for him to come after her. Go on the attack. She started swimming toward the sound.

“No!” Gallo was suddenly beside her. “Let him go. Do you want to get killed? He almost had you.”

“Let him go? Screw that. Listen. Do you hear him?”

“I don’t hear anything.”

And she didn’t either. He was gone. Or it could have been Gallo that she had heard.

“He’s wounded. He’s losing blood. He could be getting weaker,” she said. “But did you see him tear your knife out of his hand? He acted as if he didn’t even feel it.”

“Adrenaline. He’ll feel it later.” He started swimming toward the north. “I’ll see if I can zone in on him. You go back to shore and take Quinn and Eve in the car and see if he comes ashore again farther up the road. He’d be crazy to stay in the water with the blood attracting gators.”

“That’s what I told Joe. He may already be on the road.”

“Or he may not. You don’t want Quinn to come into the bayou after him. He may have been a SEAL, but I’d think you’d be worried about him having a relapse or getting an infection.”

She was worried because that would be Joe’s first instinct. He was going to be frustrated as hell because he hadn’t been able to pick off Jacobs’s killer.

Who had almost been her killer.

She nodded. “I agree he’ll probably try to come to shore again. It would be the smartest thing to do since he’s wounded.”

“Then go back and stop him.”

She shot him a glance. “You don’t want me here. Why?”

He turned away. “I can do it by myself.”

She stiffened. “So can I.”

“Then suit yourself. You’ll do what you have to do anyway.”

He swam off and was lost in the mist.

She was alone again.

He doesn’t care whether you live or die.

She hesitated, then started swimming in the same direction that Gallo had vanished.

Every few yards, she’d stop, listen, and swim again. At the end of forty-five minutes she was discouraged and frustrated. She was hearing nothing but the common sounds of the swamp, birds, insects, and occasionally something more heavy and threatening.

Alligator?

“Dammit, give up.” Gallo suddenly emerged out of the mist. His lips tight, his eyes glittering with anger. “I just saw a gator up ahead slipping off the bank out of the weeds. It’s enough that one of us is out here.”

“And why should it be you?” She glared at him. “Alligators follow the blood scent. Maybe we can follow him to the bastard. His wounded hand was—” She stopped and closed her eyes. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Get away from me. My feet have a few cuts from walking barefoot in that palmetto grove, and I was bleeding. I may still be bleeding. That killer isn’t the only one who will be attracting alligators. I didn’t even think of those damn cuts.” She turned and started swimming away from him toward the bank. “Stay away from me, Gallo.”

Gallo was swearing, but he was swimming behind her. “You’re an idiot, dammit.”

“Yes, now shut up and go away.”

“The bank should be due west.”

“Go away. I won’t be responsible for your being an alligator’s lunch.”

“Be quiet and swim.”

She was already swimming as fast as she could. Five minutes later, she saw the hazy outline of the bank looming ahead of her. “There it is.” She looked back at him. “Now get away from me and go find him. Be careful. I don’t think this damn fog is ever going to lift.” She paused, and added deliberately, “It’s a wonder that it cleared enough so that you could make a decent throw.”

He didn’t answer. He turned in the water and once again vanished into the mist.

*   *   *

EVE WAS STANDING AT the edge of the water when Catherine pulled herself onto the bank. “You lost him?”

“Gallo’s still after him in the bayou.” She looked down at the soles of her feet. “I had to come back because these torn-up feet are alligator bait.”

“I’ll say they are.” Eve grimaced as she looked down at the cuts. “And I don’t have anything to clean them up or bandage them.”

“I can wait until I get back to the house. Where’s Joe?”

“On the road, checking to make sure that the killer doesn’t get away if he comes out of the water again.” She added, “Though he wanted to follow you into that bayou this time. He was feeling very frustrated.”

“But at least he didn’t do it.”

“I wouldn’t let him. He might have ended right back in the hospital. I’d have knocked him on the head if necessary before I let that happen. I told him I’d stay here and tell you what he was doing, and he could be a hero if and when that bastard came ashore.” She looked Catherine up and down critically. “And your feet aren’t the only problem. You might end up in the hospital, too, unless you get out of those wet clothes.”

“I don’t have much choice. This isn’t over until we catch him.” She was wringing the water out of her hair. “I’m fine.”

“You were almost dead,” Eve said bluntly. “I was scared to death. Joe couldn’t get a bead on him without shooting you. He was swearing a blue streak when he missed that shot at him before the bastard dove into the water.”

“He was quick, damn quick.” She took off her black shirt and wrung it out. “And he must have a high tolerance for pain the way he tore that knife out of his hand. Gallo said it was adrenaline.”

“Maybe.” Eve’s tone was absent. “You almost died, Catherine. But Gallo came to the rescue.” She paused. “I was wondering where he was.”

“I was too busy to wonder. And I’m the only one who is responsible for me. Where’s that dagger…” She was looking on the ground for the dagger her attacker had dropped when Gallo’s bowie knife had pierced his hand. “There it is. We don’t have to worry about prints. He was wearing the gloves to his wet suit.” She picked it up and examined it. “Nothing unusual about it. Commonly used by sportsmen, undersea explorers, and scientists.” She smiled at Eve. “I’d bet Joe might have even used one like it when he was a SEAL.”

“You’ll have to ask him.” She was staring at the knife. “The one sticking in Jacobs’s chest was much bigger and more vicious-looking.”

“This is for utilitarian use. It could be that one was for pleasure.”

She shuddered. “Pleasure in murdering a helpless man?”

“Jacobs was afraid of him. At least, I guess it was him that he was raving about. He was afraid of someone. It was what he expected.” She frowned. “But it wasn’t what we expected. I thought we’d get Jacobs to talk.”

“But we might be able to get prints from the truck,” Eve said as she turned to the vehicle. “That’s more likely.” She went around in back of the truck. “Louisiana license plates.”

“And I’d bet the truck was stolen.” Catherine started forward, then stopped. “I want a forensic team. He was too careful, too good. If he left any evidence, it will be minimal, and I want to have every chance of retrieving it.” She turned and dropped on the ground and crossed her legs. “So I suppose we patiently wait until Gallo or Joe brings him back to us.”

“Patiently?” Eve dropped down beside her. “That’s not like you. Why?”

“It’s not like me. And usually it’s not like you. But for some reason, you’re thinking that’s not going to happen. You think that we’re not going to get him. I knew it the moment I saw you standing, waiting on the bank.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You would have gone with Joe. Why would you have been waiting here for me?”

“I had to make sure you were safe.” Eve was looking out at the bayou. “I wanted to know that he wouldn’t find and kill you out there. I had to make sure it was over.”

“Over? It’s not over, Eve. We haven’t got him yet.”

“But he didn’t kill you. I was sure he was going to.” She moistened her lips. “I was sure that you were the one. But I was wrong, she must have been sad for Jacobs’s death.”

“She?” Then she shook her head. She didn’t need this right now. She had been shocked when she had learned that Eve believed she was communicating with her deceased daughter. She couldn’t understand how a woman as sharp and reasonable as Eve could be delusional. “Bonnie? Eve, I can’t handle talking about Bonnie’s ghost at the moment. I don’t want to insult you by arguing how improbable that is, but I’m too practical not to think that you’re fooling yourself.”

“I don’t want to argue. You have to think what you have to think. I just answered you. Bonnie knew someone was going to die today, and she was sad about it.” She reached out and touched Catherine’s arm. “I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

“And now you think that the threat is over? I suppose she whispered in your ear?”

Eve smiled faintly. “No, did she whisper in yours? I think perhaps she did.”

Catherine frowned. “What the hell do you mean?”

“You say I was acting out of character when I didn’t go with Joe. But why weren’t you chomping at the bit to get back in the water to keep after Jacobs’s killer? That’s very unusual behavior for you. You’re utterly relentless when you have a target in mind.”

“You believe I gave up the hunt.” Catherine’s eyes narrowed on her expression. “I’m interested in why you’d think I’d do that.”

“Because you realized that it wasn’t the right time, that you weren’t going to catch him.” She didn’t look away from the fog-wreathed bayou. “So why not give in to your concern for Joe and leave Gallo to chase that killer.”

“It’s not the right time? You’re being too weird, Eve.”

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully. “But I’ve been thinking lately that all of this is like unrolling some kind of ancient scroll. We see a little bit, but not the entire story. And no matter how hard we try, we’re not going to be able to finish it until she’s ready for it to be finished.”