“You can’t promise me that.”
“I can do it. I have a lot of strings I can pull and I know that criminal underbelly very well. I’ve been dealing with them ad nauseam of late. We strike a bargain and you get what you want. I get what I want.”
“I get lies. You get your reconstruction. I probably end up in a grave in the jungle.”
“That won’t happen. I give you my word. But I can see how you might doubt my capability to do what I’m claiming. I can understand your skepticism.”
“I’d be crazy not to be skeptical.”
“When you refused the money, I thought it might come down to this so I started making plans. I thought I’d set up a test for myself to show you that I can do what I say.”
“A test?”
“The reconstruction you’re working on. Have you finished it?”
“Yes.”
“Fax me a photo.”
“Why?”
“You want to know who he is and who killed him. I’ll find out for you. I told you I had many contacts.”
“The police can find that out once they have the photo.”
“Will they try as hard as I will? Even after they know who it is, will they go after the killer with every means possible? I don’t think so.”
She didn’t think so either. The ratio of murderers found and convicted even after the bodies were identified was not that impressive. “How would you do it?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t murder anyone unless that’s what you wanted. Intimidation. Bribery. Whatever it takes.” He paused. “Send me the photo. What do you have to lose? You haven’t committed. It’s only a test to see if I can give you what you want. This is a freebie. The big pot of gold is at the end of the rainbow. I don’t give you Bonnie until you do the reconstruction. I’ll expect the photo within the next twenty-four hours.”
“You won’t get it.”
“I think I will.”
“What if I don’t send it? Is it going to affect what you do to Gonzales or Soldono?”
“Every action has a reaction. A lack of action can also cause events to change. Have you ever seen a time-travel movie where the hero changed the future simply by what he did or didn’t do?”
“This isn’t science fiction, this is real life.”
“The principle is the same.”
“You’re not going to answer me.”
“Figure it out for yourself. It’s a good idea for you to think about me, guess at my reactions. We need to get to know each other very well. We’re going to become very close. You’ll be given my fax number in the next few hours.” He hung up.
“What’s the story?” Joe asked as she hung up the phone.
“He wants to make a trade.”
“The lives of Gonzales and his family for you to go down there? No way.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “There’s something more.”
Bonnie.
“Yes.” She moistened her lips. “He offered to prove he’d keep his word. A kind of test.”
“What kind of test?”
“Marty. He said he’d have someone find out who he was and who killed him if I’d send him a photo.”
“That could take years.”
She nodded. “He said that he already had people in place to do the work but there’s no way that he could—It’s crazy.”
“Right. Then you won’t be doing it. Call and tell him he’s wasting his time.”
She was silent.
“Eve.”
“What could it hurt? I didn’t promise anything and it might bring Marty home sooner.”
“Because he’s drawing you closer and closer with every action he’s taking. First that damn bloody head to shock and throw you off balance and then he offers you the promise of bringing that little boy home. The threat and then the stroking.”
We’re going to become very close.
“He didn’t kill Gonzales yet. If I stall long enough, the CIA might get him and his family away.”
“You’re not stalling, you’re dealing with Montalvo.”
“I’m doing both.” She slammed the lid of the box down. “If I decide to do it. I’m not sure I will.”
I’ll find your Bonnie.
“You’re pretty damn close to committing,” Joe said roughly. “I’m not blind, Eve.”
“He’s not asking me to do anything yet.”
“ ‘Yet.’ That’s the key word and it means—” Joe’s cell phone rang. He looked at the ID. “Soldono.” He answered. “Quinn. Why the hell didn’t you answer my calls?” He listened for a moment and then held out his phone to Eve. “Montalvo wouldn’t let him use his phone until he’d had time to spring his little surprise package. He wants to talk to you.”
She took the phone. “Is Gonzales still alive, Soldono?”
“He was a half hour ago. Montalvo took me down to the stockade to see him. He wanted me to be able to tell you that.” He paused. “I don’t know for how long. I don’t know what the devil Montalvo is doing. He’s obviously handling you with kid gloves but he could change in a heartbeat.”
“Can you arrange to get Gonzales and his family away and out of the country if I can stall him for a few days?”
He was silent, obviously thinking about it. “Maybe. I could try. The wife and kids should be fairly easy, but Gonzales…Can you do that?”
“It’s possible.”
“He told me to call you and give you a fax number. It’s not here at the compound. He doesn’t want to chance his machine being monitored. It’s at a house in the village.” He rattled off a number and she took it down. “What does he want you to send him?”
“He’s testing himself.” She lifted her gaze to look Joe in the eye. “And I’m going to let him do it.”
“As long as you don’t expect him not to cheat to get the results he wants. He’s a wily bastard.”
“I don’t expect anything of him. I didn’t promise him that I’d give him what he wanted in exchange. For me, it’s a win-win situation providing you can get the Gonzales family out of Colombia.”
Soldono didn’t speak for a moment. “Montalvo usually doesn’t make one-sided bargains. If he did, then watch your back.”
“Does he keep his word?”
“As far as I know.”
“That’s not clear enough. Do you believe he would have kept his word about releasing Gonzales if you’d prodded me as he asked?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“Okay, then tell Montalvo I’ll send the photo in the next six hours. I’ll consider five days an adequate time for him to find out what I need to know. Is that enough time for you?”
“I hope it is.”
“So do I. One other thing. I want Venable to send me a complete dossier on Montalvo.”
“Why?”
“He seems to know entirely too much about me; I need to know everything about him.”
“I’ll tell Venable. He’ll get it to you right away.” He paused. “I’m sorry we had to involve you in this, Ms. Duncan. We did our best to avoid it.”
“I’m sorry too. Just get me the dossier.” She hung up the phone and said to Joe, “Well?”
“What do you want me to say?” he said curtly. “It’s a mistake. He’s going to suck you down and swallow you alive if you let him.”
“I won’t let him.” She stood up and went toward Marty’s easel. “A photo isn’t a commitment. He’s going to do something I want very much and he’s not asking anything in return.” She bent over and opened the cabinet and started pulling out the photographic equipment. “And the delay could save lives.”
“Why five days?”
“I didn’t want to have to deal with him when we’re going to Phoenix this weekend. And he wanted a test; I gave him a humdinger of a test. It gives Soldono enough time to get the Gonzales family out but it also limits the time I have to deal with Montalvo.”
“It would be a miracle if he pulled it off.”
Miracle. Joe had said only last night that to find
Bonnie would be a miracle. It was almost as if he sensed that Montalvo had offered more than to bring Marty home. Perhaps he did have a premonition. Joe knew her so well….
And why hadn’t she told Joe what Montalvo had promised about Bonnie? She hadn’t lied but she hadn’t told him. Omission was also a lie.
She could still tell him.
She wouldn’t lie to herself as well as Joe. She wasn’t going to tell him because she knew what his reaction would be. She knew that he would worry, that he would try to stop her from even considering what Montalvo had said. It made no sense to involve Joe when she knew as well as he did that Montalvo’s lure was a siren call that was totally false.
Men like Montalvo dealt in death, not miracles.
3
The castle in the painting was wreathed in mists that seemed to be otherworldly.
“MacDuff’s Run?” Eve asked Jane. “You made it look like Camelot.”
Jane grinned. “That’s how MacDuff sees it.” She lifted her glass of wine to her lips. “It’s like the song in the musical. Magic.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t want to buy the painting.”
“I didn’t tell him I painted it.” She tilted her head, appraising it. “I don’t usually do landscapes, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the place. Maybe it is a little magic. Do you like it?”
“Very much.” Eve looked around the crowded gallery. There wasn’t any question the show was a success. Sold signs had been popping up on Jane’s paintings all afternoon. “But I like all your paintings. I love the one of Toby sleeping on the hearth rug.”
“That’s one of Toby’s favorite sports these days. He’d rather count sheep than chase squirrels.”
“That’s a dog’s privilege. Toby isn’t a puppy any longer. When are the two of you coming home for a while?”
“Soon. Maybe next week. As soon as I get through here. I’m ready for a rest.”
“Good.” Eve took a sip of her wine. “We miss you. How’s Trevor?”
“Fine.” She smiled and waved at the man talking to Joe across the gallery. “He’s just returned from Johannesburg. He promised he’d make the show.”
“He looks well.”
“He looks like a bloody movie star and every woman in the room is salivating,” Jane said with a grin. “I always need Trevor present to give my shows star quality.”
“You’ve got star quality yourself. Ask any of those people who bought your paintings.”
Jane shrugged. “I can’t see myself as a Rembrandt. I love the work, not the praise.” Her glance shifted back to Eve. “And it seems pretty trivial compared to your work.”
“Not to me. Art is both a joy and a healer. My reconstructions may offer closure but there’s no joy.”
“You look tired. You’ve been working too hard again.”
“Maybe.” She changed the subject. “What about you and Trevor?”
Jane’s smile faded. “What about us?”
“Jane.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Okay. He’s sexy. He’s smart. We’re great together.” She paused. “And I’m scared to death of commitment. There’s no hurry. There are a million things I want to do with my life before I settle down. Satisfied?”
“Temporarily. Sorry if I seemed prying. I worry sometimes.”
“God knows I don’t want you worrying about me. You have enough problems in your life.” She glanced at Joe again. “Why is he on edge? He’s trying to be offhand but he’s…” She searched for a description. “Ready to spring.”
Eve should have known that Jane would sense the turbulence in both of them. Jane had grown up on the streets and she was both savvy and intuitive. Besides the fact that she was close to both of them. “He’s being protective. There’s a job I’m considering that he doesn’t want me to take.”
“Then don’t take it.”
“I probably won’t.” She changed the subject. “We’re going back to Atlanta in the morning. Can you have dinner with us or are you going to be tied up with all these highfalutin art patrons?”
“Screw them.” Jane grinned. “I know who’s important in my life. I’ll meet you at the hotel at seven. Okay?”
“Great.” She put her glass down on a table. “Now I’d better let you mingle and influence people if I’m going to monopolize you this evening.” She started to weave her way through the crowd toward Joe and Trevor.
She was only a few steps into the throng when her cell phone rang.
“Are you having a good time?” Montalvo asked.
She stopped short, her hand tightening on the phone. “I was until I answered your call. What do you want?”
“Your Jane is a wonderful artist and a beautiful girl. You must be very proud of her.”
“More than you could dream. What do you want?”
“It’s been three days since you gave me my deadline. I thought you deserved a report.”
“Are you going to tell me that you want more time?”
“I said ‘report.’ Your little boy is Peter Dandlow. Nine years old. He’s not from Macon. His parents lived in Valdosta, Georgia. He was reported missing five years ago. He was a latchkey kid and was supposed to call his mom at work when he got home from school. One day she didn’t get the call. She never saw him again.”
She was so stunned she couldn’t speak for a moment. “How did you find that out?”
“Computer files of all the police-department records in the area. It’s not easy to break into them but not impossible for a computer geek. I gave my men enough money to give them incentive to work hard and fast. Some of the cities’ records were scanty so I sent a man into the precincts of a few of the towns to check through the back files in their morgues.” He paused. “You did a great job on the reconstruction of the boy. You should be quite proud. I’ve sent a fax to your hotel with the boy’s picture and your reconstruction. It should be there by now.”
She tried to keep her voice even. “How do I know that any of this is true? You could have doctored the photograph.”
He chuckled. “How suspicious you are. I approve. By all means, have Quinn check with the Valdosta police. For my part, I’m sure that Peter Dandlow is your victim. I’ve moved on to step two.”
“And what is that?”
“I told you that I’d try to find the boy’s killer. Now, two days isn’t much time, but I’ve made certain strides already. I don’t believe the boy was killed by his parents, although I understand it’s not uncommon in these cases. His father left the boy’s mother before he was born and the extent of the boy’s injuries would indicate a certain strength and brutality. I could see the mother hitting the child and killing him but not a continuous pounding that—”
“You actually believe you’re going to be able to find his killer? No way.”
“I’m not saying I’ll catch him. The time’s too short. But I’ll find out enough to point the way.”
“It’s a cold case, Montalvo.”
“Then I’ll warm it up. I’m good at making things happen. But I’m disappointed you gave me such a short time. I like to finish what I start. Wouldn’t you like me to drag the boy’s killer to lie at your feet?”
“No.”
He said softly, “What about your Bonnie’s killer?”
She went rigid.
“I’ll call you in two days, Eve.” He hung up.
Her heart was beating hard. She couldn’t breathe. She had to get out of here. The crowd around her seemed to be pressing closer and closer…
She made it to the side exit and ran into the alley. The air was cool and crisp. She took a deep breath and then another.
What about your Bonnie’s killer?
Damn him. Liar. Liar.
But he’d found out who Marty was in three days.
That didn’t mean he could find Bonnie or Bonnie’s killer. It didn’t mean he was even telling the truth about Marty.
“I saw you run out. What’s wrong?”
She turned to see Joe standing be
hind her in the doorway. “I needed some air.” She moistened her lips. “I got a call from Montalvo. He says that Marty is a missing boy from Valdosta. Peter Dandlow. He’s sent a fax with the boy’s photo to our hotel.”
“He’s a crook. It could be doctored.”
“That’s what I said. He said you could check with the Valdosta police.”
“You’re damn right I will.”
She said slowly, “I don’t think it’s a fake.”
“Why not? That head he left on the porch was a fake.”
“That’s different. He knew I’d find out almost immediately about that. He had a purpose.”
“He has a purpose now.”
Yes, he did, but not the one Joe thought. “You should have heard his voice. He was…exhilarated. He likes the idea of doing something this difficult. I can see him sitting there, thinking, pushing, demanding, putting the pieces together.”
“Then stop thinking about him,” Joe said roughly. “You’re talking about Montalvo as if you know him. He’s trying to con you.”
She was beginning to feel as if she did know him. There was no question that he knew which of her buttons to push. Bonnie. Always Bonnie.
She tried to smile. “It’s never a bad thing to know the enemy.” She moved toward the door. “We’d better go back inside. Jane might be concerned.”
“She was surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans when I came out here. What are you going to do? Run back to the hotel to get the fax?”
“No, this is Jane’s night. I’m not even going to look at the fax until we get home from dinner tonight.”
“Hallelujah.” He took her arm. “And tomorrow I’ll check with Valdosta. I hope the bastard is lying through his teeth.”
“I don’t. If it’s true, it means Marty will be brought home to his mother.”
Stalemate Page 4
