Bonnie
Page 10
“You should be grateful that she’s on your side.”
“Do you think I’m not?”
“I don’t know what you feel about her,” she said quietly. “But she’s my friend, and for some reason, she believes in you. You’d better be damn grateful.”
“Or you’ll take me out?” His lips twisted. “You’re as fiercely protective of Catherine as she is of you.”
“Catherine doesn’t trust easily. She’s had a rough life. I won’t have her hurt.” Her gaze was searching his face. She was remembering bits and pieces, phrases, expressions that she’d ignored because of the urgency of the situation. But protecting Catherine had its own urgency. “Just what do you feel about her, John?”
He didn’t answer directly. “You don’t have to worry about her trusting me. She’s too smart for that.”
“Dammit, answer me.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked harshly. “That I admire her, that I’m grateful to her for helping me when I didn’t deserve it. That I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d let her be killed.”
“That’s quite a bit. Noble sentiments.”
“Noble? You know me better than that. There’s nothing pure or noble about me.” He met her gaze. “All that stuff pales beside the fact that I want to screw her so much that I ache with it. I haven’t wanted a woman like this since I met you all those years ago, Eve.”
She stiffened. The words were raw and his expression intense, reckless. Yet she shouldn’t have been so surprised. She had sensed … something when talking to Catherine, but neither Catherine nor Gallo would let down their guard enough to reveal an emotion this intimate.
“Are you satisfied?” Gallo asked. “No, I can see I’ve upset you. You shouldn’t have pushed if you didn’t want me to tell you the truth.”
“You did upset me.” Her gaze was searching his face. “I think you wanted to upset me, or you wouldn’t have just come out with it like that. Why, John?”
“Why? Good question.” He didn’t speak for a moment. “I think I felt guilty. Maybe I wanted absolution.”
“Absolution?” She frowned. “What on earth are you talking about? Because Catherine is my friend?”
“No, because I felt … unfaithful.”
She stared at him, stunned.
“Yeah, I know,” he said roughly. “It’s crazy. But then, everyone knows that about me.”
“Unfaithful to me? That doesn’t make sense. Good God, how many women have you had over the years?”
“That’s different. They didn’t matter. I didn’t feel … It wasn’t anything like what was between us.”
“And what you’re feeling for Catherine is like what we felt?”
“Yes. No. It’s different, but it … means something. I don’t know what.”
“That’s clear as mud. And so is your reasoning. There’s nothing between us, John. Whatever we were together vanished when you left me. Why the hell should you feel guilty?”
“I shouldn’t. You and I tried to keep what we felt from meaning anything but sex.” He added hoarsely, “You may have succeeded, but even back then I wasn’t so sure that I did. And after I was thrown into that prison, the memory of you stayed with me.” He paused. “And then there was Bonnie. I told you once that she’d bind us together forever.”
And Eve couldn’t argue with him on that score. Why else was she with him?
“You were special to me,” he said. “You’ll always be special. I know you’ve moved on. Hell, I’m beginning to think I’ve moved on, too. God knows, it took me long enough. So maybe next time I want to screw Catherine, I won’t feel as if I—” He drew a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to let all this loose on you. Forget it.”
“I can’t forget it.” She stared at him in frustration. “And I can’t ignore it. This is nuts. You were not unfaithful to me because you want to go to bed with Catherine. We both know that.” Her lips thinned. “Absolution? John Gallo, that’s the height of absurdity.”
“Yes.” He smiled. “And I’m beginning to feel better with every word you’re hurling at me. What’s between us is so damn complicated that it’s good to get it out in the open. Now I can try to seduce Catherine and not worry about anything but having a good time.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said, exasperated. “You don’t have any responsibility to me, but you’d better act responsibly with Catherine.”
“You know I don’t have a history in that direction.” His smile faded. “But I’ll try to change my ways if it will please you, Eve. I guess I could try this pure, noble crap.”
“Bullshit,” she said bluntly. “You like your way too much, and I never remember you not trying to take it.”
“Not if you said no.”
But she had never said no to him. She had been too dizzy and hot and completely involved with her first sexual experience. And she doubted if Catherine would say no to him either. Not for long. He still possessed the sensual magnetism that had drawn Eve to him, but now it had matured and become even more potent. Eve could see it, feel it, but it didn’t touch her. As he’d said, she had moved on.
But to Catherine, Gallo’s charisma would be fresh and stormy and strike sparks.
“Don’t hurt her, John.”
“You flatter me.” He moved into the lane that led to the Mobile airport. “Catherine is probably tougher than either one of us. She wouldn’t let me hurt her.”
Eve hoped that was true. It was true that there was no one more wary than Catherine. But her friend had never met a man like John Gallo.
He glanced at her when she didn’t speak. “I’m trying to be good, Eve,” he said quietly. “I know I’d be rotten for her. That’s one of the reasons that I took off and put some distance between us. Catherine has the misfortune to believe in me.” His lips twisted. “Even after I came within a heartbeat of letting her be killed.” He shrugged. “So instead, I let you come along for the ride. Here we are together again, Eve.”
“Only until we find Ted Danner. It’s all about—” Her phone rang, and she glanced at the ID. “It’s Catherine.” She pressed the button and turned up the volume. “What’s happening?”
“I could ask the same of you,” Catherine said. “I didn’t like the way you left me, Eve. It wasn’t fair.”
“I know. I didn’t want an argument, and you would have given me one.”
“You’re damn right I would have.” She paused. “Is Gallo listening?”
“Yes.”
“You take care of her, Gallo. If you don’t, I’ll cut your heart out.”
“Always to the point,” Gallo said. “I have no intention of letting anything happen to Eve.”
“Intentions don’t always translate to the final product. Joe wants to talk to you, Eve. But I wanted to make sure you heard about the fingerprint tests that Joe had New Orleans PD run on the prints found in the gift shop at the alligator farm. The results just came in.”
“Danner?”
“Absolutely positive.”
Gallo muttered a curse as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“I heard that,” Catherine said. “It’s too bad you don’t like it, Gallo. Face it. He’s a murderer.”
“There could have been reasons.”
“And what reason did he have for tossing that night security guard to the alligators?”
“Self-defense. Quinn said there were signs of a struggle. He could have been surprised and acted instinctively.”
“Maybe. I’m not counting on it. I’m handing the phone to Joe, Eve.”
“Right.” She braced herself. “Where are you, Joe?”
“At the gate in New Orleans waiting for a flight to Atlanta. We’re going to go check out Danner’s records at the Atlanta VA Medical Center.”
“Gallo tried to do that. The administrative office wouldn’t give him any info. I knew you and Catherine would be able to find out about him.” She paused. “Gallo and I are going to San Antonio to check out the doctor who sig
ned the death certificate for Ted Danner. I’ll let you know what we find out.”
There was a silence. “You will?”
“Joe, for Pete’s sake, I told you I wasn’t trying to close you out. It’s just not possible for me to work with you right now.”
“Because of Gallo,” Joe said harshly.
“No, because of Bonnie.” She added quickly, “I’ve got to go, Joe. I’ll call you when I have an update.” She hung up and turned to Gallo. “You heard it. There’s no doubt any longer. It’s Danner.”
“But how?” he asked through set teeth. “Why?”
“That’s what we have to find out.”
“You told Joe we were going to San Antonio,” Gallo said. “How do you know that they won’t be there before us?”
“I don’t. But it wouldn’t be smart of them now that I’ve explained my position. And Joe and Catherine are both very smart. They don’t like it, but they trust me.” She added quietly, “And I won’t violate that trust, John. They’ve gone through hell, and they deserve to see the end of this. You set the rules, and I had to go by them.” She shook her head. “No, I wanted to go by them. You scared me. I know how you feel about your uncle. I’m not sure how you’d respond if it came to a choice.”
“I didn’t let him hurt Catherine.”
“But Joe said you took a chance on a risky throw. Why?”
“I wasn’t thinking, dammit. I couldn’t believe it was happening. I meant to aim for his back.”
“But you aimed for his hand.”
“It was too late to—” He drew a deep shaky breath. “I could have killed him with that bowie if I’d struck his back. I couldn’t kill him, Eve.”
“I know. And that’s why I don’t want to expose Joe and Catherine if you’re faced with that choice again.”
“But you’re willing to risk yourself,” he added mockingly. “It appears you’re not as smart as Joe and Catherine. Where’s your sense of self-preservation?”
“You’ll do what you have to do. I’m not afraid no matter what choice you make.”
“How fatalistic,” he said. “I’m not sure I like your attitude. You were always a fighter, Eve.”
“Who says I’m not now?” She shrugged. “But I guess I am a fatalist in this. I’ll do everything I can to survive, but this time I may not have any say in it.” She stared him in the eye. “And you might not either. It could be that’s why we’re supposed to be together.”
“Don’t be melodramatic. We’re not going to die,” he said. “I won’t accept any of that bull.” He was silent a moment. “I don’t want to die. There was a time, when I thought I might be the bastard who had killed Bonnie, that I didn’t want to live. I thought I should burn in hell. Then Catherine came along and told me in her less-than-gentle way that I was an idiot to take Black’s word, anyone’s word, without positive proof and kicked me into high gear. She said she’d learned a hell of a lot about me when we were playing cat and mouse while she was stalking me in those woods in Wisconsin. If she didn’t believe I was capable of killing Bonnie, why should I? She convinced me. I’d fight to live now.” He frowned. “If I’m not to blame for it after all. I’ve just remembered something Jacobs said when I was questioning him. He was blaming everyone but himself for Bonnie’s death. Including me. He said it was my fault.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t latch on to the blame before this,” she said in exasperation. “Dammit, you said he was blaming everyone. Why should it be your fault if you didn’t kill Bonnie?”
“But it was my uncle who killed Jacobs. Who might have killed Bonnie.”
“Then it was his crime.”
“Maybe.” He pulled onto the entrance ramp for Mobile airport. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?”
CHAPTER
7
“FORGIVE ME, FATHER, FOR I HAVE sinned. It’s been six weeks since my last confession.” Ted Danner closed his eyes as he bowed his head in the confessional. “It wasn’t my fault, Father. I did what I should have done when a demon tries to do evil. You’ve always told me I have to fight the demons.” He added bitterly, “I know you meant the demons inside me, but I can’t win those battles. But even if you don’t believe me, there are other demons, and I can sometimes win over them.” He could feel the tears well to his eyes. “What else could I do? It was a wicked demon, and I had to strike out before it devoured John, Father Barnabas. It had teeth that were sharp as knives.…” He swallowed as he remembered the blood gushing from Jacobs as his knife went into his chest. “I’ve tried so hard to hide from them. But I’d warned this demon that he mustn’t do evil. I did warn him, Father.”
“I know how you’ve fought them, Ted.” Father Barnabas paused before asking, “Just how did you strike out?”
“I don’t remember.” It was not the truth, and he’d have to confess that the next time he came to confession. Lying was only a small sin. But he couldn’t tell the priest what the demon had forced him to do. Father Barnabas was the only one who could save him, and this sin was too great to forgive. He might not intercede for him and he’d be left to burn in hell. That couldn’t happen, God listened to priests. “Forgive me, Father. It wasn’t my fault. I left him alone for years, but I couldn’t do it any longer. It would have destroyed me.”
“Only God can destroy you, Ted.” Another pause. “I haven’t seen you for weeks. I’ve told you before that the confessional is important for you. You need it.”
“I know. But I’ve been good, Father. My thoughts have been pure. I’ve done good deeds. I’ve tried to make amends for my sins. I know I shouldn’t have missed confession.” He whispered, “Nor have fought the demon. Give me a penance. Make me clean again.”
“If you don’t remember what you did, how can I know what penance to give you? Think. Tell me, Ted.”
He could feel himself being swayed by the priest’s persuasiveness as he always was whenever he was near him. All Father Barnabas had to do was stare into his eyes with that look that seemed to have almost hypnotic power, and Ted wanted to do anything, give anything. “I told you, I can’t do that. Why do you keep asking me?” He could feel the rage rising in him, and he had to control it. He had to remember that Father Barnabas wasn’t one of the demons, he was Danner’s salvation. The priest told him so all the time. “And God cast out Lucifer. He knew how evil demons can be. He would forgive me. You have to forgive me, too.”
“Ted, it’s not up to me. It’s in God’s hands. Let’s pray and ask Him for forgiveness.”
“He doesn’t listen to me.” His voice was tense with anger. “Why should He? You’re the one who has to get Him to forgive me. I couldn’t help it. It was like a giant wave of flame that was drowning me. I couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but the searing of the— He should have stopped me. I didn’t want to hurt them.”
“Them?” Father Barnabas asked slowly. “More than one demon?”
Alligators swarming in the dirty brown pond.
A dark-haired woman, beautiful as a Delilah from Hades, staring fiercely up at him as he had brought the knife down.
Not really demons. But he couldn’t accept that rage, not vengeance could make him do anything so horrible. If he did, then he’d be beyond all forgiveness. “I don’t remember.”
“I think you do, Ted.”
“No.” He wouldn’t remember. Why did the priest keep telling him to remember when it hurt him to do it? Was Father Barnabas his enemy, too? No, that couldn’t be true. Control those thoughts. Change the subject to the reason he was here. He forced a smile. “I’ll try to come here more often, Father. I promise. But I need you to help me now. Did you do what I asked?”
“Of course I did.”
He tensed. “Then tell me what I need to know.”
The priest shook his head.
Danner’s hands clenched.
“I prayed,” Father Barnabas said gently. “I don’t always get an immediate answer. Sometimes, I don’t get the answer you want.”
Danner
could feel the rage rising within him. “But you’re a priest, dammit. God won’t listen to me, but He’ll listen to you. I have to know. What does she want? What does the little girl want from me?”
“Perhaps if you told me a little more, we could work through this. Who is this little girl?”
“I don’t want to work through anything. Just tell me what she wants, so that I can give it to her. She won’t leave me alone until I do.”
“I’ll pray again, but I can’t promise. Perhaps you could talk to her yourself. Or perhaps her parents.”
Talk to her? Panic was causing his heart to pound. “No, I can’t talk to her. You have to do it.” He jumped to his feet. “I’ll give you more time, but you have to help me. Don’t tell me you can’t do it. You can do anything. You always say you want to help me. This is the only way you can do it. I trust you, Father. Try again. Help me.”
“Ted, talk to me. Not about this little girl if you don’t want me to ask questions about her. Tell me what else you’ve been doing.”
If he talked to the priest, he would be at his mercy as he had been all through the years. Danner could feel his frustration begin to turn to rage. Calm. Don’t turn on the only man who could help him. Don’t let loose the rage. Resist the temptation to step into the cubicle that had heard a million sins and kill the priest. That would truly make him one of the demons that were his enemies.
“Ted?”
“Just pray and find out what I need,” Danner said hoarsely. “And give me forgiveness.”
“If you were in the right, why would you need forgiveness?”
Why did the priest keep asking him questions? Kill him.
No, that was the demon whispering. He couldn’t listen.
He jumped to his feet. “I have to go. Good-bye, Father.”
“Don’t go. Come back to my office. You need me, Ted.”
Dear God, he did need him. But he was past the help the priest could give him except for this last request. “I have to go,” he said jerkily as he left the confessional. “Don’t fail me again.”