Stalemate

by Iris Johansen

  “Screw it.” He took the coffee Galen handed him. “I want to see Eve.”

  “I’m not going to wake her up. I’m sure she’ll drop in to see you.”

  “She dropped in to see me twice last night. Both times I was so drugged out I barely knew she was here.”

  “Did she? How disappointing for you. Eat your breakfast.”

  Joe’s gaze narrowed on the indentation in the pillow next to him. That maddeningly familiar scent was still drifting up to him.

  Then he recognized it.

  “Shit.” His cup crashed down in the saucer. “She’s doing the reconstruction.”

  “You almost broke the cup.” Galen rescued the cup and saucer and put them on the tray. “And such fine china.”

  “She’s doing the reconstruction, isn’t she?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The smell of that alcohol on the hand towels she uses. When she’s working, it clings to her like a second skin. I’ve smelled it a thousand times when she’s working on a reconstruction. Her pillow is still smelling of it.” He picked the pillow up and hurled it violently at Galen. “Now stop bullshitting me and tell me what’s happening.”

  “I didn’t bullshit you.” He tossed the pillow back on the bed. “I was merely being evasive.”

  Joe tried to control his temper. “Galen, you’re going to either tell me why she smells of—or I’ll get up and go ask her myself.”

  “She wouldn’t like that.” He dropped down in the chair beside the bed. “And she wouldn’t like me to confide in you either. But she deserves it since she tipped her hand by coming to see you and giving away the show.”

  “What show?”

  Galen poured himself a cup of coffee. “Actually, it went off quite successfully. I didn’t mean to go along, but it was an interesting…”

  The skull was gone.

  Diaz started to curse as he stared down at the skeleton.

  “It seems Montalvo is on the move,” Nekmon said as he shone the flashlight into the grave. “You think the forensic sculptor is still alive?”

  “Montalvo wouldn’t have come after the skull if he hadn’t been sure he had someone to do the reconstruction.”

  “He took a big risk.”

  “Evidently not so big,” Diaz said sarcastically. “When he invaded my territory and managed to steal this skull in the shadow of my mother’s tomb.”

  Nekmon gazed down at the skeleton. “It’s the Armandariz woman?”

  “How do I know? She’s just a pile of bones. But Montalvo must think she’s Nalia Armandariz or he wouldn’t have gone to the risk of claiming her skull.”

  “Can you get DNA from a skull that’s been in the swamp for years?”

  “I’d bet on it. They’re doing all kinds of recovery with DNA lately.” He turned away. “But that’s not why he wanted the skull. He knows how difficult I could make it for any lab that ran the tests. No, her father is an emotional son of a bitch and Montalvo wants to stir him up against me.”

  “What do we do?”

  “What do you think? We toss dirt into this damned grave and then we go after that skull.”

  “At his compound? You said it was too well-armed to attack.”

  “I want that skull. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get it.”

  “We’ll have to get more men from Bogotá.”

  “You fool. There’s no time. Of course we’ll send for more men but we have to move quickly now. He wouldn’t have brought that woman down here to cool her heels after he got the skull. She’ll be working on giving that skull a face now. We have to buy time.” He strode toward the cemetery gates. “No more mistakes. We have to take out Eve Duncan.”

  Eve was just out of the shower when there was a knock. She threw on a robe and opened the door.

  “Quinn knows,” Galen said. “You blew it.”

  “Damn. How?”

  “He says you paid him a late-night visit smelling of those alcohol towels you use when you’re working on a reconstruction.”

  “Stupid,” she said in self-disgust. “Lord, I was stupid. I should have known he’d recognize that smell. He wasn’t that far out of it. He even commented on my body lotion earlier in the evening.”

  “It wasn’t bright,” Galen said. “Couldn’t you wait until today to see him?”

  “Of course I could.” She grimaced. “But I didn’t want to wait.”

  “Because you were feeling a little bit as if you’d betrayed him by doing the reconstruction?”

  She stiffened. “I’m trying to save his life.”

  “Very laudable motive.” His eyes were narrowed on her face. “But weren’t there a few other reasons why you wanted to do the reconstruction?”

  “All right, I wanted it for me too. Montalvo gave me hope and I ran with it. There’s nothing wrong with that as long as no one else is hurt. I did everything I could to keep Joe out of it.”

  “I’ll testify to that. But you should have been more devious if you wanted to fool Quinn. Now you’ve got damage control.”

  “I’m not good at devious.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “How did he take it?”

  “He’s royally pissed off. What do you expect? He tried to get out of bed and go to see you. Then he got grim and quiet.”

  She knew that mood. Joe was at his most dangerous when that first anger ebbed away. “I’ll go to see him before I go to the library.” She turned away. “Thanks for warning me.”

  “I tried to take some of the flak but he still has plenty of ammunition left for you. I don’t blame him. I’d probably feel the same way. You had your reasons and they may have been good ones. But he doesn’t like the idea of being protected and he doesn’t like being left out.”

  “Too bad. This is my problem and I won’t have him suffering for it. He’s already gone through too much.”

  “But now you have another problem. Keeping him from exploding like a live grenade and blitzing all of us.” He started down the hall. “I’ve already had a little taste of that and I’m not willing to stand still for it again. I’m patient, I’m not a martyr. Fix it, Eve.”

  Fix it, she thought in exasperation as she tossed on her clothes and ran a brush through her hair. How was she supposed to fix anything when every minute of her time, every iota of her mind, was going to be absorbed by the reconstruction of Nalia Armandariz?

  The only thing she could do was be honest with him. She didn’t have some sort of magical sticky glue to bond together all the pieces that seemed to be splintering. If she couldn’t make him see her point of view, then she had to blast right through the situation in the only way she knew.

  Ten minutes later she was opening the door to Joe’s room. He was sitting up in bed and his expression was not encouraging.

  “I had to do it, Joe,” she said quietly.

  “That’s what I hear from Galen.” His tone was cold. “It would have been nice to hear it from you.”

  “You would have argued with me.”

  “Considering the length of time we’ve lived together I believe that’s my privilege.”

  “Maybe.” She wearily shook her head. “I’m tired of arguing, Joe. We haven’t been doing anything else since this business began. You’re not going to change my mind. And evidently I can’t change yours either. Stalemate.”

  “I can’t accept that. I won’t accept it.”

  “Then you’ll have to suck it up and deal with it,” she said bluntly. “I’m going to do the reconstruction and turn it over to Montalvo. Then I’m going to go home to Atlanta and wait for Montalvo to pay me back. I can’t do anything else. I need to see if he’ll go through with his promise. I need him to do that, Joe.”

  “Do you also need Diaz to cut your throat? That’s what you’re setting yourself up for.”

  “I’ll take the risk. It’s worth it to me. I’m close, Joe. I haven’t been this close to finding Bonnie for years.”

  “You’re blind.”

  She smiled shakily. “Possi
bly. But you’ve known that for a long time.” She turned and opened the door. “I’m not going to change.”

  “I won’t sit back and let you do this. I’m going to get out of this bed and I’m going after Diaz. I don’t care what Montalvo is planning for him. He’s going down.”

  She didn’t look back at him. “And I’ll try to stop you.” She tried to steady her voice. “I guess that makes the situation very clear.”

  “Eve.”

  She stopped in the act of closing the door. “What?”

  “Why did you come to me last night?”

  “Why not? I always come to you when I’m hurting.” She drew a shaky breath. “But I guess I can’t do that anymore.”

  She shut the door.

  Jesus, her eyes were stinging. She wasn’t accustomed to Joe being that hard and cold. Not with her. She felt…bereft.

  “Not a happy visit?”

  She looked up to see Montalvo coming down the hall.

  “A lousy visit.” She cleared her throat to ease it of aching tightness. “I hurt his pride. I hurt him. Sometimes I wonder why he stays with me.”

  “I don’t.” He smiled. “And I thought he was not that foolish either. It gives one hope.”

  “Don’t play games, Montalvo. I’m not up to it right now.”

  “Games are for business, not the personal.” He nudged her gently toward the stairs. “Go get something to eat. Miguel is waiting for you. I don’t want you to go to the library until you have something in your stomach.”

  “I’d no intention of not eating. It’s painstaking work right now. The end of a reconstruction is a different matter. That’s all instinct and flow….”

  He nodded and then said quietly, “Thank you for covering the reconstruction last night before you left. It made it easier to go in there this morning.” His lips twisted. “I had no idea I was such a coward. I was actually dreading it.”

  “I know.” She started down the stairs. “But you shouldn’t. Come to peace with her.” She stopped on the landing. “Any word about Diaz?”

  “Ripples from my informants in Bogotá. He’s calling for reinforcements.”

  “Attack?”

  “Probably.”

  “Can the CIA help you?”

  “Why should they? The CIA considers me as troublesome as Diaz. I’ll handle it. What do you want me to do about Quinn?”

  She hesitated and then made the decision. “He’s going after Diaz. I don’t want you to let him do it. Stop him.”

  His brows rose. “He’s not going to like you for asking this.”

  “Then he’ll have to dislike me. I can’t have him dead.” She continued down the stairs. “If we’re lucky, he may be too weak to make a move but I have to take measures in case he tries.”

  “And I’m the measure?”

  “I can’t watch him day and night. I’m going to be busy with your Nalia. You keep him safe.”

  “An exchange of caretaking of one significant other for another?”

  “Yes, but my significant other is alive and I want to keep him that way.” She saw Miguel hurrying toward her across the hall as she reached the bottom of the steps. “Will you bring me a sandwich and soup right away, please, Miguel? And another pot of black coffee in about two hours.”

  A few minutes later she was closing the door of the library behind her. The tears were gone but the sadness remained. She had a feeling that the rift that was widening between Joe and her was becoming more frightening with every spoken word.

  She moved over to the dais and took off the drop cloth over the reconstruction. “You’re causing an awful lot of trouble, Nalia. You remind me of one of those women from the court of Camelot who had all the knights fighting over her. Only I’m one of the knights who are trying to bring you—”

  Camelot.

  Jane had been talking about Camelot at the art show. Camelot and MacDuff’s Run.

  Jane.

  Panic surged through her. Of course she was okay. Montalvo had promised to protect her family.

  Screw it. She needed to talk to Jane, to hear her voice. She reached into her pocket for her phone and dialed Jane’s number.

  No answer. No voice mail. Nothing.

  Keep calm. Try again later.

  She turned back to the reconstruction. Concentrate. Don’t let nerves keep you from thinking logically. There could be a reason why Jane wasn’t—

  Her cell phone rang.

  No ID.

  “Hello.”

  “I hope Montalvo’s paying you well.” It was a man’s deep voice, the English slightly accented. “Funeral expenses can be exorbitant these days.”

  “Who is this?”

  “But I’ll be glad to take care of that for him. You can share the grave with the bones of his wife.”

  “Diaz?”

  “Yes, Ramon Diaz, you bitch. You’re playing on the wrong side. Shall I tell you what I’ll do to you if you continue to give Montalvo what he wants?”

  “I’m not listening to your threats, Diaz.”

  “You’ll listen. I’ll keep you around for a week or two to amuse my men. Then I’ll kill you, slowly. Very slowly.”

  “And will you throw me into the swamp as you did Nalia Armandariz? That was pretty stupid. She’s come back to haunt you.” She kept her voice cool and steady. “I’ll haunt you. I’ll bring her back and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Oh, but there is something I can do. You lost one daughter. Are you prepared to lose another?”

  She went rigid. “What are you talking about?”

  “Such a beautiful girl. Not to my taste. I prefer my partners younger and less independent. But there are many whorehouses that specialize in breaking the spirit of the women I send them.”

  “You can’t touch Jane. I’ll kill you if you lay one hand on her.”

  “Ah, that frightened you, didn’t it? I can always find a way to reach out and get what I want.”

  “You slimeball.”

  “You’re making me angry. You don’t want to do that. Stop what you’re doing and go back to your country. Your daughter may survive if you do that right away. Though I don’t promise. It’s hard to stop when you’ve set a plan of action in motion.” He hung up.

  Eve’s heart was beating so hard she couldn’t get her breath. Her finger was trembling as she pressed the disconnect.

  Bastard. Slimy son of a bitch.

  Jane.

  She dialed Jane’s number again.

  No answer. No voice mail.

  Oh, God.

  She hung up and ran to the door.

  Miguel was coming toward her carrying a covered tray. “I’ve brought your food. I hope—”

  “Get Montalvo,” she said through her teeth. “I want to see him now.”

  Miguel took one look at her expression and set the tray on a chest beside the door. “At once. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Just get Montalvo.”

  He turned and moved swiftly down the hall.

  She tried Jane again.

  Same result.

  Let her be safe. Please, let her be safe.

  “What’s wrong?” Montalvo was hurrying down the hall toward her. “How can I help?”

  “You said you’d protect my family. You promised me.”

  “Yes, I promised.” His gaze was searching her face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Oh, nothing. Except Diaz said that he was sending my daughter to one of his pet whorehouses.”

  He stiffened. “He phoned you?”

  “Yes. Now tell me that my daughter is safe and that bastard is lying.”

  “She’s safe. He’s lying.”

  She stared him in the eye. “Now prove it. I can’t reach her by phone.”

  He reached in his pocket and drew out his phone and dialed a number. “Montalvo. Let me speak to Jane MacGuire.” He handed Eve the phone. “Proof.”

  “Eve?”

  It was undoubtedly Jane’s voice. Eve sagged back against t
he wall. “Thank God. Are you okay, Jane?”

  “I’m fine. I’m getting a little stir-crazy. I wish you’d finish up that job and get back here.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Some safe house in Tucson that Venable set up. It’s pretty nice and they supplied me with canvases and paints to keep me occupied.”

  “Venable?”

  “Didn’t you know he was handling it?”

  “No.”

  Silence. “Are you okay, Eve?”

  “I was worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. But next time you take an internationally sensitive job, I want to go along. I’m bored silly.”

  “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll be through here as soon as possible. I’ll call you. Take care, Jane. I love you.”

  She hung up the phone and turned to Montalvo. “The CIA?”

  He nodded. “I made a deal with them.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “I promised Venable I wouldn’t sell weapons to a certain dictator on his hit list. He promised me they’d keep your daughter and mother safe. Would you like to call your mother? She’s in a safe house in Griffin, Georgia.”

  “How did Venable persuade them to go underground?”

  “They love you. He told them it would be safer for you if they were safe.”

  “How long have they been in safe houses?”

  “Since the night Quinn and you were shot. I decided it would be better to take precautions.”

  “Why the CIA?”

  “You’d trust them. Your daughter and mother would trust them.” He shrugged. “I don’t particularly trust them, but I have my own people watching the houses. And I do trust them.”

  “Why couldn’t I reach her cell phone?”

  “Venable didn’t want to risk having her phone traced. I’ll give you the number of the safe house. Satisfied?”

  She nodded slowly. “I was frightened.”

  His lips tightened. “That’s what Diaz wanted. What else did he say?”

  “That if I didn’t stop working on the reconstruction, he’d make sure I shared a grave with Nalia Armandariz. After suitable pain and degradation, of course.”

  “Of course.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “That’s enough to frighten anyone. Did he convince you?”

  “He convinced me that I’d better finish this job quickly. I want that son of a bitch to go down. He’s threatening people I love.” She turned and started back into the library. “Now leave me alone so that I can start to work.”