Bonnie

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Bonnie Page 4

by Iris Johansen


  “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 nee
d 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.”

  “Well, you’ll have to ask her to forgive me, but I intend to unroll the whole shebang according to my schedule and not hers.” She got to her feet and crossed to the edge of the bank. “Where the hell is Gallo?”

  “But you haven’t really been worrying about him since you got back, have you?”

  No, she hadn’t, Catherine realized. She had been worried about the gators, not the possibility of his encountering Jacobs’s killer. “He can take care of himself.”

  Eve smiled faintly. “And it’s over for the time being. Until next time.”

  “Bonnie’s crystal ball again?”

  “Call it what you like. I think it’s closer to the concept of faith.”

  “And that scroll you spoke about gets unrolled a little bit more?” She turned to look at Eve. “Well, I’ve been thinking of a way to jump-start it. Did you and Joe get a good look at that bastard when he was attacking me?”

  Eve shook her head. “He was directly behind you until he actually pounced. He was tall, very thin, and his stride was … springy.”

  “His face?”

  “No, as I said, he was behind you. And when he attacked, he was bent over you. I couldn’t see his features.”

  “Joe?”

  “We can ask him. He had a different angle than I did when he got off the shot. He might have seen his face.”

  “I hope he did. I had a full view of his features for just an instant or two. It would be good if I had another witness to corroborate my take on him. Gallo was in the bayou, close enough to throw that knife. He probably had a good chance to see him,” Catherine said. “You’ve been trained in police sketching as part of your training, Eve. Can we try to get a recognizable sketch of this guy?”

  She nodded. “Since you think that fingerprints aren’t very likely, it would be one of our only options. But it had better be soon. Memory fades in an amazingly short time.”

  “I’ve been trained in memory retention for debriefing situations,” Catherine said. “I’ll concentrate and get a picture that will hopefully stay with me.”

  “Anything remarkable about him?”

  A tan face, pulled tight by the hood of the wet suit. Bushy dark brows flecked with gray. Remarkable? There was something unusual, but it was eluding her at the moment. “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe it will come to me…”

  The fog was growing thicker again, she noticed. Gallo wouldn’t be able to see anything. Why didn’t he give up? She hadn’t been concerned before about Gallo, but now she was beginning to feel uneasy. There was no reason for it. It was probably caused by all of Eve’s talk about scrolls and Bonnie, and that other stuff that was pure mysticism.

  But she wished Gallo would come back.

  * * *

  HE SHOULD TURN BACK, Gallo thought as he paused to listen for the hundredth time. He’d been out here for at least ninety minutes, and it had been a futile effort.

  How had he gotten away?

  He knew the answer.

  He was sharp and experienced as he’d always been, and never without an emergency escape plan.

  Give it up and go back to shore.

  Not yet. He would give it a little longer.

  Wait. He heard something.

  A motorboat!

  He turned in the water and swam in the direction from which he’d heard the sound of the motor.

  The second line of defense for the escape plan.

  Get to him before he got away.

  If he didn’t catch him now, the hunt would go on.

  And it would lead Gallo straight to hell.

  * * *

  “IS CATHERINE OKAY?” Joe asked, when Eve picked up his call.

  “Yes, she came back to the shore not long after you left. But Gallo is still out in the bayou.”

  “I’m not worried about Gallo. I just wanted to be sure that Catherine hadn’t been hurt.”

  “I take it you didn’t see him?”

  “I think we’ve lost him. I’ve been going up and down this road for hours, with no sign of him. But a while ago, I heard the sound of a motorboat in one of the inlets. He might have had a boat stashed there.”

  “It’s possible.” She glanced at the truck. “But it would seem like overkill. If he followed her from the casino, it would take some fast scrambling to set up a backup like that.”

  “Or someone very practiced in a maneuver like this. I’m on my way back. I should see you in about ten minutes.” He hung up.

  She turned to Catherine. “He thinks that we’ve lost him. Maybe a motorboat in the inlet.”

  “It took Joe long enough to give up searching,” Catherine said. “I notice you didn’t discuss your theory about the ever-unfurling scroll with him. You could have saved him some time.” Then she made a face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. I just have problems with the idea of fate dictating our lives. I believe we mold our own lives, our own fates, and if we work hard enough, we can make a success of things. I thought you believed that, too.”

  “I do,” Eve said. “But there appear to be some things that are out of our control. I found that out years ago, when I lost Bonnie. After that, I discovered damage control and to work with what I was given.”

  “A ghost?”

  Eve slowly nodded. “I don’t expect you to accept the idea. It took me years to come to terms with it.”

  “Eve…” Catherine reached out and took her hand. “I admire you, I trust you, I believe in you. I just can’t believe in this particular.”

  “You didn’t believe that Gallo was innocent of Bonnie’s death at first. But now you’re willing to fight for him.” She smiled. “And that’s a good sign for an eventual understanding.”

  “Don’t count on it. We’ll just agree to disagree. I can’t promise that I’ll ever—” She broke off and whirled toward the bayou. “I heard something.”

  Eve did, too. And the next moment, she saw Gallo stand up in the shallow water and wade toward the bank. She felt a rush of relief. He looked tired and discouraged, but he wasn’t hurt.

  “No sign of him?” she asked as he levered himself out of the water.

  “No. He go
t away.”

  “Joe said he heard a motorboat in the inlet,” Catherine said. “Did you?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Where’s Quinn?”

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He just called.”

  “Good, I want to get back to the house.”

  “You said you heard the motorboat. Did you see him?”

  “Yes, but he was halfway across the bayou, then he was lost in the fog.” He glanced at the truck. “Have you searched it?”

  Catherine shook her head. “No, I called Venable, and he’s going to arrange to get a forensic detail out here. Though I don’t know what our chances are of getting prints.”

  “Nil,” he said flatly. “Maybe trace evidence.”

  “You seem very certain,” Eve said.

  “Do I?” He got to his feet. “As certain as I can be under the circumstances. I’d judge he wouldn’t leave a trail.”

  “We may not be able to ID him from prints, but Catherine saw him. I may be able to do a sketch from her description. Could you help? Did you get a good look at his face?”

  “No, sorry. You think there’s a good possibility that you’ll be able to get a close enough resemblance?” He glanced at Catherine. “You’ll remember him?”

  “I’ll remember him,” she said quietly.

  He looked away from her face, and his gaze traveled up and down her body. “You look almost dry.”

  She shrugged. “I took my clothes off and wrung them out. You should do the same.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll change when I get back to the house.” He turned his head toward the road. “I think I hear Quinn.”

  Eve nodded as the car came around the bend of the road. “That’s Joe.” She watched Joe park on the side of the road and called to him as he walked down the slope toward the bank. “Gallo heard the motorboat, too, Joe, but it was moving out of sight when he got to the inlet.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  Gallo stiffened. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  “He saved Catherine’s life, Joe,” Eve said quietly. “I think we can do without antagonism and accusations.”

  “Yes, he saved her life.” Joe’s gaze met Gallo’s. “But why did he wait until he had to target the hand instead of another part of the body? That was an incredibly difficult throw. If he’d missed, it could have been all over for Catherine.”

 

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