“And that makes Montalvo a hero?”
“No, it means that what I worked for will come to pass. I don’t care how it happens, just so it happens.”
He was silent a moment as he opened the door for her. “Sorry. I’ll be glad if you’re able to bring your Marty home. I just wish it had happened some other way.”
“I do too.” She didn’t want to think Montalvo was some kind of wonder worker.
She didn’t want to feel this dark stirring of hope.
She picked up the fax at the front desk when she and Joe arrived back at the hotel before midnight. She waited until they had reached their suite to look at it.
The photo of Peter Dandlow looked amazingly like the reconstruction she had done. The two photos side by side on the fax were very similar. There were differences, of course. There were always differences when you weren’t copying but relying on tissue depth and instinct. But she had done a good job, she realized thankfully.
She handed the fax to Joe. “Close.”
“Very close. May I have it?”
“Of course.” She went to the bathroom and closed the door as pain poured through her. That smiling, sweet boy, full of life and joy. It was always the same. Satisfaction at a job well done and then the poignant regret.
“Eve.”
“I’ll only be a minute.”
“Let me in.” He opened the door. “For God’s sake, don’t close me out.” He pulled her into his arms. “I know what you’re feeling. I’ve always helped you through it. What’s different now?”
“Nothing.” He had a right to be bewildered. She had acted instinctively when she had run away from him. There was no rhyme or reason why she would do that. “I guess I didn’t think.”
“That’s what worries me.” He pulled her closer. “We disagree about what you did. That doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you.”
“I know.” She buried her face in his shoulder. Dear heaven, she loved him. Why did she feel this desperate sense of loss and regret lately when she was with him? “I know, Joe…”
They were close to the dirty bastard.
Montalvo plunged into the water and waded downstream. He could hear the dogs up ahead yelping as they caught the scent.
Soldono caught up with him. “I’m not going any farther. I don’t hunt men like prey.”
“Yes, you do.” Montalvo’s hand tightened on his rifle. “You do anything you have to do, what your orders tell you to do. This kind of hunt isn’t usually necessary for you.” His lips thinned. “It’s very necessary in my world.”
“But you’re enjoying it.”
“Am I?” He plunged ahead. “Think what you like. Just follow me and keep your mouth shut or I’ll leave you in this jungle to rot.”
He could see Miguel up ahead with the dogs. “Across the clearing,” Miguel shouted. “Shall I turn the dogs loose on him?”
“No, call them off. Both of you stay here. Leave him to me.” He moved forward, darting from tree to tree, taking shelter where he could. It brought back memories of the years he’d spent with the rebels. The same instincts tuned to excruciating acuteness, the adrenaline racing.
A bullet whistled by his ear and buried itself in the tree next to him.
He dodged to the left.
A palmetto bush moved up ahead.
Meant to draw him out and into a line of fire.
Circle around and approach the area.
Move softly, quietly.
Aquila was waiting ahead with his rifle aimed on anything that moved.
Another slight shiver of movement to the left of the tree.
The light was flickering, changing. Montalvo waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the gray pearl of dawn.
The last movement was not a ploy. He could see Aquila’s faint outline against the bushes.
He dropped to one knee and aimed his rifle. It was not an easy shot. Poor light, long distance, and Aquila could move at any second.
Concentrate.
His finger pulled the—
Aquila moved to the left!
Take the shot anyway. Make the shot two feet to the left to allow for—
He pulled the trigger.
Aquila fell to the ground.
Playing dead? Wounded? Or really dead?
He circled and cautiously moved toward him. Aquila was a snake and he had no desire to be bitten by him in his death throes.
No danger.
As he drew closer, he could see Aquila lying crumpled on the ground, the top of his head blown off. It had been a true shot.
“Is this what I’m supposed to see?” Soldono asked.
He turned around to watch Soldono and Miguel coming toward him. “Yes.” He told Miguel, “Bury him here, where he fell.”
Miguel nodded. “I’ll get a shovel from the truck.” He disappeared into the shrubbery.
Soldono was looking down at Aquila. “Who was he?”
“Someone who made me very angry.”
“Why?”
“That’s not important to anyone but me.”
“It’s important for me to know why you dragged me through the jungle to watch you blow a man’s head off.”
“I saw an opportunity and I took it.” He turned and strode in the direction of the truck. “I thought it was a good idea.”
He could feel Soldono’s bewildered and faintly repulsed gaze on his back as he moved through the trees. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have chosen to have him along when he went after Aquila, but as he’d said, the opportunity was there.
Dawn was beginning to break. By the time he got back to the compound it would be full daylight. He’d grab a nap and then he’d call Norton in Macon and see what information he had for him.
Eve Duncan was waiting.
The dossier on Montalvo was waiting for Eve when they got back to the lake cottage the next day.
“I suppose you want to look at it before dinner,” Joe said.
She nodded absently as she opened the envelope. “I’m not really hungry.”
“I’ll make a pot of coffee.” Joe went into the kitchen. “But you’ve got to eat later. Jane made me promise to make you put on the weight you’ve lost.”
“Okay.” There wasn’t much in the envelope. A few photos and two sheets of paper. “From what Venable told us I expected a rap sheet the size of a telephone book.”
Joe came back and picked up one of the sheets. “No jail time. Ten years ago he was picked up for suspicion of weapons trafficking a few times. After that, nothing.”
“How can that be? Venable said he was a big-time dealer.”
“He’s either very smart, has contacts in high places, or has enough money to bribe his way out of trouble. Maybe all three.”
“I believe you’re right.” She glanced through the photos. Montalvo wasn’t a conventionally handsome man. His nose had been broken at some time, his lips were well-shaped but large. His dark hair was threaded with silver at the temples and his eyes were dark and stared out of the photo with direct boldness. “How old is he?”
Joe scanned the report. “It doesn’t say. Presumed early forties.”
“Presumed? Venable couldn’t even get his birth date?”
Joe shook his head. “Not according to this dossier. He was supposed to have fought with the rebels when he was younger.”
“Presumed? Supposed? Personal information? Where was he born? Family members? For God’s sake, if he was picked up by the police they must have had some record.”
“The CIA’s first contact with him was when he was selling weapons to the rebels ten years ago. He’d set up a compound in the jungle and ran it like a feudal castle. They probed; they asked questions and came up with zilch.”
“A mystery man?”
“There’s no mystery that can’t be solved. Perhaps they know more than what’s on this sheet.”
“That’s more logical than them not being able to trace his background. Soldono and he seemed to be in each other’s pockets.” Her hand clenched. “I w
ant to know more, dammit.”
“You know enough. He’s a crook, he has no compunction about killing a man and his entire family, and he’ll use you if you let him. I’d say that about covers it.”
“I guess you’re right.” She looked down at the photos again. “It’s just…he’s very…it’s hard to dismiss him without knowing what makes him tick. What reconstruction does he want me to do? Why doesn’t he try for DNA? He must have the money. He’s going to a hell of a lot of trouble to get me down there.”
“Including making you think about him nonstop.” Joe threw the sheet down on the coffee table. “You’ve turned down criminals before when they’ve come to you. What’s different about Montalvo?”
The others hadn’t offered her Bonnie.
She tried to smile. “I guess I won’t find out what’s different about him from this rap sheet.”
“You’ve got what you want from the bastard. You’ve found out who Marty is. Walk away from him.”
“When Gonzales and his family are free and clear. Soldono hasn’t called yet to say he’s gotten them out. I’ll call him tonight to see if there’s any progress.”
“And I’ll check with Valdosta to see if the kid is who Montalvo said he was.” He went back to the kitchen. “The coffee should be finished. Want a cup?”
“A little later. I think I’ll go for a walk by the lake. Do you want to come along?”
He shook his head. “I want to call Valdosta. I hope they tell me that fax is a fake.”
“I don’t think that—I don’t know. He was just so pumped when he was talking to me. I don’t believe he was lying.” She opened the screen door. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“Okay.” He was already dialing his phone, his expression intent on the task at hand.
Joe was always intent, she thought as she went down the steps. Intent, focused, totally involved with whatever he was working on. That’s what made him a brilliant cop.
The lake was smooth as glass.
Peace.
She loved the peace of this cottage and she loved the solid security of her life with Joe. He’d formed cushioned walls around her to protect her from all harm.
She didn’t want to leave this haven. She wanted to stay here forever surrounded by Joe’s love and care.
Why was she even thinking of leaving? That thought had come out of nowhere. She had no intention of altering her life or taking a chance on…
On what? Going down to Colombia on the chance that Montalvo could do what he’d promised. Risking her life on a criminal who cared nothing for the peace she loved.
Her telephone rang.
Soldono. A rush of hope surged through her. Give me an out, Soldono. Tell me you’ve gotten Gonzales away and I’ve no excuse to go to Montalvo.
No excuse but Bonnie.
“What’s happening?” she asked as soon as she picked up the phone. “Gonzales?”
“Not yet.” Soldono paused. “It’s difficult. Montalvo must expect me to make that move. They’re very well-guarded.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear.” She paused. “How serious is he about killing the family?”
“Too serious to discount the possibility.”
“The dossier Venable sent us didn’t mention any penchant for violence.” She added with frustration, “But then it mentioned damn little about anything. Doesn’t anyone at the CIA know more about him?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“I don’t have any reason to lie to you. But I wouldn’t count on Montalvo not being violent just because it’s not on his rap sheet.”
“He could have sent me Gonzales’s head in that box and he sent a fake instead.”
“That could only mean he’s smart enough to realize that would turn you off. He got your attention and now he still has Gonzales to bargain with. Believe me, he doesn’t hesitate to kill.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he wanted me to know.” He paused. “I was invited on a hunting expedition last night. No, not invited, commanded to come along.”
“Hunting?”
“A man named Aquila. I don’t know what he’d done to Montalvo but it was enough to make him so scared he took off into the jungle. Montalvo and his first lieutenant, Miguel, went after him. There wasn’t any question of bringing him back alive. He was a dead man from the moment Montalvo started after him.”
“He caught up with him?”
“After five hours of tracking. Then Montalvo went on alone to get him. He blew half his head off.”
“Jesus.”
“And then he told Miguel to bury him in the jungle and went off about his business.” He paused. “And I’m sure that business was you.”
“Why?”
“Because Montalvo is no exhibitionist. He had a reason for making me go along. He wanted me to see him put down Aquila. He wanted me to tell you about it.”
“Because he knew I’d ask the same questions of you that I did. He wanted to let me know that he’d follow through.” Lord, Montalvo was intelligent. He seemed to know what she was thinking, what she would do before she did it. “Did he do it just to make a point?”
“No, he said it was an opportunity that presented itself.”
She shivered. “Some opportunity.”
“Well, you have your answer.”
Yes, she had her answer to everything but the question she’d first asked. “Can you get that family away without Montalvo blowing their heads off?”
“I’m doing my best. Venable’s sending help.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I know,” Soldono said wearily. “Half the time the work I do isn’t good enough. It’s all compromises. I’m doing what I can. I’ll call you when I know more.” He hung up.
She hoped when he called her it would be to give her better news, she thought with frustration. She’d been impatient with Soldono, but he’d probably been doing his job in the most efficient way possible under the circumstances. He was sitting in Montalvo’s house and being constantly watched.
It was strange but she felt as if Montalvo were also watching her. She could imagine him sitting like a panther, waiting, watching, blocking every exit before she reached it.
She stared out at the lake. The sun had started to go down and red flames streaked the water. So much beauty. At times it took her breath away. She would remember moments like this forever.
Remember? She experienced moments like this every day of her life. There was no need for memory.
She had to get back to Joe and tell him about the call from Soldono. Maybe not tell him quite everything. He was already on edge and disturbed. He didn’t need to know about the man Montalvo had killed. It wouldn’t have surprised him, but it would give him more ammunition to hurl at her for dealing with Montalvo at all.
She turned and headed back toward the cottage. She wasn’t going to be dissuaded from continuing her contact with Montalvo but she, too, needed ammunition. That dossier was ridiculously sparse and it made her feel helpless. She couldn’t tolerate feeling helpless. There had been too much of that agony after Bonnie’s death. It was the primary reason she had gone back to school to be a forensic sculptor. It had been a way to strike back, to have a purpose.
Knowledge was power. Knowledge was strength. To deal with Montalvo she’d need quantities of both.
“Soldono called while I was down by the lake,” she told Joe when she went into the cottage. “He’s striking out. He hasn’t got Gonzales and his family out of the country yet. Venable’s sending him help.” She went to the coffeepot on the counter and poured a cup. “And he doesn’t know any more information than what’s in that report. Or so he says.” She lifted the cup to her lips. “I tend to believe him. If the CIA is keeping his background under wraps, they haven’t told Soldono.”
“It’s not bright not telling an agent information he might be able to use in the field.”
�
��I agree. We need all the information we can get about Montalvo.” She paused. “That’s why I’m going to call Galen.”
“I’m not surprised. I could see it coming. He may not be able to help, you know.”
“And he may. Galen deals in buying and selling information, among other things. The CIA may not be able to find out anything about Montalvo but I’d bet on Galen.”
“You have in the past.” He looked down at the coffee in his cup. “But you haven’t even spoken to him for months. Elena and he have a little girl now. You’re his friend but relationships have a tendency to break down when new bonds are formed.”
“Not with Galen.” She and Galen had become too close in the time they had spent together. “He’ll have time for me. I’m not asking him to fly off to Colombia and scout out Montalvo. All I want is information. I’ll call him right after supper.” She opened the freezer. “How about me putting a frozen lasagna into the oven?”
“Fine.” He paused. “You didn’t ask me about my check call to Valdosta.”
She took out the lasagna. “Oh, what did you find out?”
“The fax wasn’t doctored. But that’s what you expected, wasn’t it?”
“It’s good to have it confirmed.” But she’d really had no doubt that Montalvo had been telling the truth. It would have been too easy to check and he wouldn’t have wanted to be discredited in her eyes. He’d gone to extreme lengths to make sure that she didn’t think he was either a liar or a charlatan. “Thanks for going to the trouble.”
“No trouble.” He turned on the oven. “I have a feeling the trouble is yet to come.”
“Montalvo?” Galen repeated. “I’ve heard of him. But nothing that you’d call confidential information.”
“Can you find out anything for me?”
“Of course, luv.” Galen sighed. “I’d offer to dispose of him for you but my Elena would object. She’s making me as tame as a pussycat.”
Eve chuckled. “I can’t see it. Particularly since Elena was once more lethal than you.”
“She was not.” His English accent became more pronounced in his indignation. “We came together on equal ground. Of course my ground sometimes is a bit more equal than hers. Oh well, we’re compatible in almost every other way.”
Stalemate Page 5
