Quinn

by Iris Johansen

It was opened immediately by a small, plump woman somewhere in her seventies or eighties whose eyes were bright as an inquisitive squirrel’s. “You’re Eve Duncan.” Her dark eyes were fixed eagerly on Eve’s face. “Come in. Come in. I’ve been waiting for you. It’s about time you came to see me. If I’d wanted the police to come knocking, I would have called them.” She glanced at Joe. “You police?”

  “FBI.” He put his hand on Eve’s elbow. “Thank you for seeing us, Mrs. Tilden. We’ll try not to take too much of your time.”

  “I’m seeing her, not you.” She gazed back at Eve. “You’d think you didn’t want that little girl back. You should have come sooner.”

  “I’m here now,” Eve said. “You said you saw my daughter the night after she was taken? Where?”

  “Right in front of my house,” the woman said. “It was a full moon, and I saw her walking down the street beside a man. She was wearing that Bugs Bunny T-shirt that the newspapers said she was last seen in.”

  “What did the man look like?” Joe asked.

  “I couldn’t make him out. Sort of dark. Tall. The little girl was skipping to keep up with him. She looked like she was trying to tell him something.”

  “She didn’t seem frightened?” Eve asked.

  “No. She seemed kind of … worried. But not scared.” Nedra Tilden nodded. “Why should she?”

  Eve gazed at her in disbelief. “She was kidnapped, Mrs. Tilden. Of course, she would be frightened. Perhaps it was another little girl you saw.”

  Her lips tightened. “Don’t you tell me who I saw. It was that Bonnie Duncan. I may be getting a little up there in years, but that only makes me see things clearer. I’m closer to the other side.”

  “Other side?” Eve repeated.

  “Do you think your daughter is still alive?” She shook her head. “It was a spirit I saw. You might as well stop looking for her. It was her ghost that I saw running beside that man and trying to get his attention.”

  Eve inhaled sharply as if the breath had been taken out of her. “A spirit?”

  “I see them all the time. The first one was my first cousin, Edgar, about ten years ago. Then there was my neighbor, Josh Billiak, who was killed in an automobile accident in the next block. After that they just seemed to keep coming. It made me nervous at first, but then I got used to it.” She lifted her chin proudly. “I decided that I must be special or something. That’s why it didn’t surprise me to look out my window and see your Bonnie. No sirree, you’re not going to find her alive. She’s dead as a doornail.”

  Joe wanted to strangle the woman. “Thanks for your time.” He nudged Eve toward the door. “We have to go now.”

  “No thanks?” Nedra Tilden stepped forward and grabbed Eve’s arm, her dark eyes greedily searching Eve’s face. “You didn’t want to hear what I had to say, did you? But I did you a favor. You have to come to terms with the grim reaper.”

  “You come to terms.” Joe opened the door. “We’ll wait until we have more evidence.”

  “Wait.” Eve pulled away from him and looked at the woman. “You hurt me. Why did you want to hurt me?”

  “I only did my duty,” Nedra Tilden said righteously. “You have all these cops and FBI people running around and spending taxpayers’ money. I barely manage to get by on Social Security, and they’re pouring out cash trying to find a lost kid. You should accept that your Bonnie has been butchered and let everybody go about their business.”

  Eve turned pale. “But I can’t accept that.” She turned away and walked out of the house. “Any more than I can believe that if she was dead, she’d make an appearance to someone who is as vicious as you.”

  Joe followed, but stopped to bite out to the woman who was starting to scurry after Eve out on the porch, “Say one more word and I’ll have you taken in for a psychiatric evaluation.” He slammed the door in her face and ran down the steps after Eve. “Vicious is right.” He opened the car door for her. “I told you she wasn’t stable.”

  “That’s very close to saying I told you so, Joe,” she said dully.

  “No, it isn’t. I’m just reminding you that you shouldn’t pay any attention to anything the bitch said.” He ran around and got in the driver’s seat. “None of that bullshit was in the police report. Evidently she was saving it for you.”

  “How kind.” She was rigid, staring straight ahead. “I wanted to hit her.” Her hands were clenching on her lap. “No, I wanted to kill her. I’ve seen cruelty before, but not like that. I couldn’t understand why she’d do it. I’d never done anything to her, and yet she was drinking in my pain … she liked it.”

  Joe nodded. “That’s why I wanted to get you out of there.”

  “Thank you.” She looked back at the porch, and Joe could see her start to shake. She was sitting so straight, struggling desperately for control, but her body was betraying her. “I couldn’t understand…”

  And Joe couldn’t take it any longer. He reached over and pulled her into his arms.

  She stiffened. “No.”

  “Shut up,” he said hoarsely. “You’re hurting, and I’m offering comfort. That’s all this is about.” It was a lie. But God, he hoped she believed him. He had to find some way to help her, or it would kill him.

  She was still, frozen. Then she slowly, tentatively, relaxed against him. “She said ‘butchered.’” Her words were muffled against him. “She said my Bonnie was butchered.”

  “Because she’s a crazy woman.” His hand was in her hair. He loved the feel of her, the textures of her. Ignore them, help her. “And you handled her; you told her the way it is. I was proud of you.”

  “I couldn’t let her words hurt me, hurt my Bonnie.” She gave a long, shaky sigh. “I wouldn’t believe the police or you. I had to talk to them myself. And now look at me. I’m acting like a child.” She started to push him away.

  Not yet. Another minute. Another hour.

  Another lifetime.

  His arms tightened, then he slowly released her. “You’re no child. You’re very brave. And I feel honored you let me be here to help you. That’s what friends are for.”

  She met his gaze. “Are you my friend, Joe?”

  “I think we’re on our way.” He pushed back a strand of red-brown hair that had fallen across her forehead. “Don’t you?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment, then nodded. “I believe we may be. It feels very strange for me. I haven’t had time for friends. First, I was fighting my way out of the slums, then there was Bonnie.”

  “I was fighting, too, but not in the same arena.” He started the car. “Come on, let’s find a restaurant and get some dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said quickly. “I’ve taken enough of your day. You can take me home.”

  “Yes, I could,” he said. “But I’m not. You’re going to eat and we’ll talk, and by the time you go home, you’ll have forgotten that bitch.” He grimaced. “Well, not forgotten, but you’ll have a different perspective on her. Now, where do you want to go to eat?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I’ll pick someplace close to your place so that you can dump me and walk home if I bore you.”

  She smiled slightly. “That’s a good idea.”

  One step at a time. Just don’t let her close herself away from you, he thought.

  She was looking out the window. “What if that woman was right? Bonnie could be dead. We both know it, Joe.”

  “Yes, but we knew it before we went to see that witch. It was no revelation.”

  “She said Bonnie wasn’t frightened. That was a revelation. I pray every night that Bonnie will be safe and not frightened.”

  “Eve, back away from what happened tonight. She’s crazy. And you’re crazy to let anything she said linger with you.”

  “Am I?” She glanced back at his face. “Is it a sign of our budding friendship to call me insane?”

  “Damned right. I’m being honest. You said that was importan
t to you. It’s important to me, too. Only the best of friends have the guts to tell you the truth.”

  “I can see that,” she said quietly. “But no pity, Joe.”

  “I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t tell you there will be moments that I won’t be able to help myself from pitying you. You can only feel what the situation dictates, and this situation pretty much sucks.” He smiled. “But I’m a callous bastard. I’ll have no trouble keeping it to a minimum.”

  “Are you callous, Joe Quinn?” She tilted her head. “You don’t impress me as being … but we don’t know each other. All I know is that you’ve been kind to me.”

  “Plus all the stuff you managed to squeeze out of the Quantico office,” he said. “I’ll let you judge for yourself after I tell you the story of my wicked life over dinner.”

  She smiled. “That will be interesting. It will be good for both of us to think of something besides me and my problems. Are you promising to be honest about that wicked past, too, Joe?”

  He nodded. “Every detail.”

  Being honest about the past would be no problem.

  It was the present that would have giant lapses of truth.

  One step at a time. Protect her. Help her. Never let her see anything beyond what she wanted from him.

  Damn, it was going to be hard.

  * * *

  “I LIKE THIS PLACE.” Eve gazed out the window at the Chattahoochee River flowing lazily only yards from the restaurant. “It’s peaceful.”

  “Slindak recommended it.” Joe handed the menus back to the white-jacketed waiter. “You’ve never been here before? He said it was popular, and you’re a native.”

  “I’ve heard of it.” Her gaze shifted back to him. “But it’s not cheap, and I’m a single mom with a daughter to support. A night out for me is a visit to McDonald’s.”

  “Then you should have ordered something besides salad and a sandwich. No wonder you’re thin.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She looked out the window at the river again. “Atlanta has so many creeks and rivers. I worried about them after Bonnie was taken. I thought what if she wandered away and slipped off a bank and— But then I worried about everything. You never realize how many dangers there are in the world until you have a child.” She leaned back as the waiter came and set their salads in front of them. “Growing up, I was totally fearless about anything happening to me. I thought I was immortal—like all kids. Then I had Bonnie, and I found out a pinprick could cause tetanus, a tiny germ could give her pneumonia. So many things to fear…”

  “Stop looking at your salad and eat it.” Joe picked up his own fork. “And I don’t believe you were the kind of mother to hover over her child. You probably made sure that she enjoyed life.”

  She smiled and nodded. “That was easy. She loved every single minute of the day.” Her smile faded. “Past tense. I keep falling into that trap. I mustn’t do that.”

  No, ease her away from it. “You were sixteen when you had her?”

  “Yes.” She picked up her fork and began to eat. “You know all that from the reports. She’s illegitimate, but I made sure she didn’t miss having a father.”

  “I’m sure you did. But you must have missed the emotional support yourself.”

  “Why? I had Bonnie, I didn’t need anyone else.” She shrugged. “Stop thinking of me as some heartbroken victim. Sex was the only thing that bound me to Bonnie’s father. I made a mistake. Our time together happened like a lightning flash, then it was gone. But I had my daughter and that was all that mattered.” A luminous smile suddenly lit her face. “Anyone who has never had a child like Bonnie is the victim, not me.”

  “I can see that.” He had been watching with fascination the play of expressions that flitted across her face. Every now and then he could capture the Eve she had been before she had been forced to face the horror that now dominated her life. “It just surprised me that it happened when you were so young.”

  “It surprised me, too. I assure you I wasn’t prepared to be a mother. All I wanted to do was get out of the projects and build a decent life for myself.”

  “But you decided to keep her.”

  “She was mine,” she said simply. “I couldn’t give her up. You’d understand if you had a child.” She tilted her head. “Or do you?”

  He chuckled. “You mean you don’t know? Rick Donald must have slipped up.”

  “He said you weren’t married, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a child.” She finished her salad and put down her fork. “I can’t tell you how many unwed mothers lived in the projects where I grew up. Men don’t have a great sense of responsibility where their children are concerned.”

  “I’d take care of my own.” He smiled faintly. “And, no, I don’t have any kids. I’ve been too busy to make that kind of commitment. And for me, it would be a commitment. I know what it’s like to feel like an orphan.”

  “Oh, yes, your parents are dead. Were you very young?”

  “No, it was after I went into the service. A yachting accident. Just the way they would have liked it.”

  “Weren’t you a little old to feel like an orphan? I was feeling sorry for you. I don’t know why. You have as much money as Richie Rich.”

  “Richie Rich? He was a comic book character, wasn’t he? Lord, I admit I haven’t had anyone compare me to him.”

  “Bonnie liked those comic books. She thought all the gadgets and toys Richie owned sounded fun.”

  “I’m surprised you encouraged such blatant materialism.”

  “Why not? It was a world full of fun and adventure. Bonnie never wanted to own any of the toys. She just liked to learn about them.” She smiled. “And they were so outrageous that I doubt even you owned anything like them. Did you?”

  “I received a few fairly ‘outrageous’ gifts from my parents from time to time. Usually, they were sent as a substitute for some trip they’d promised me. Or when I’d been unusually good for a time and not gotten tossed out of the current school of choice where they’d sent me.” He grimaced. “That didn’t happen often.”

  “You weren’t a good boy?”

  “I was a bastard,” he said flatly. “My parents didn’t care as long as I didn’t get in their way. I did that a lot. I was willful and reckless and willing to fight to get what I wanted. It was no wonder that I wasn’t welcome in their orderly lives. My father was a stockbroker and my mother was a socialite who did nothing but look pretty and act as my father’s hostess, companion, and mistress. They lived smooth, pleasant lives, parties and trips to the Hamptons, journeys on my father’s yacht. That’s all they wanted, and I disturbed the flow.” He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “So most of the time, when I wasn’t being a son of a bitch, I just stayed away from them. It was better for both of us.”

  “I can see that it might be. Poor little rich boy.”

  He chuckled. “Are you mocking me?”

  “Yes.” She met his gaze. “Because whatever hurt you, you’ve managed to put it behind you. You can take a little mockery now, can’t you? I feel sorry for the boy whose parents didn’t want him, but I’m familiar with a lot of those kinds of stories. Most of them didn’t include the soothing clink of coins to ease the pain. Sorry if you think that I’m not suitably sympathetic.”

  “But you’re trying to be honest.”

  She nodded. “I think you were as tough a person then as you are now. We’re alike in that. We’ve both learned to look ahead, not behind us.”

  “And you’re not impressed by my wicked past?”

  “Not as a kid. You’ll have to do better than that.” She frowned. “If you were kicked out of all those schools, how did you get into Harvard?”

  “I cheated?” He shook his head. “No, I’m too damn smart. Things are easy for me. That’s why I was so frustrating for everyone. My parents swore I’d never get into Harvard, so I set out to do it. And I made it through.”

  “Brilliantly?”

  “Of course, it wouldn’t
have given me any satisfaction if I hadn’t done it well.” He waited for the waiter to change out their salads for the sandwich plates. “My parents wanted me to go into politics. They thought a senator would be a nice addition to their circle. I took a look at Congress and decided that I’d probably be a zombie by the time I was thirty. So I joined the SEALs instead.”

  “From what I’ve heard, they definitely don’t develop zombies.”

  “No, I’ve never felt more alive in my life. They made me into the quintessential warrior, with all the skills and opportunities for battle. I’d found my niche in life.”

  “Then why did you get out?”

  “I liked it too much,” he said simply. “And I was too good at it. At first, I considered myself a patriot, and that was okay. Then there comes a point when you know you’re coming too close to the line between fighting for a reason and doing battle for the sheer heady love it. If you don’t stop before you cross that line, then you become what you’re fighting. I was tottering on the brink because I knew I was good enough to let loose all that violence and skill and probably never have to account to anyone. It was a hard decision for me to make.”

  She studied him. “I can understand how it would be.”

  Yes, she could sense that streak of wildness and violence in him, and he wouldn’t try to hide it from her. She wasn’t afraid of those qualities in him. If she was, then he’d have to handle that as it came to the forefront. He wasn’t going to lie to her about that side of his character. He hated deceit, and he was having to practice too much of it with her.

  “Why the FBI?” she asked.

  “It offered a certain amount of action, the technology interested me. I’d always been good at search and destroy. I’m insatiably curious, and I liked puzzles.” He nodded at the waiter, who was filling their coffee cups. “And it forced me to be the good guy.” He smiled. “You wanted frankness. Did I give you too much?”

  She shook her head. “Because you’re no saint? I admire the fact that you know yourself and are setting up barricades to be the person you want to be. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone who had the discipline to do that.”