“That Nate Queen won’t tell her anything. He said they have an arrangement. No, he said he owned Queen.”
“Yes, and that would be the only excuse she’d need. I’m getting in my car now. I should be home in thirty minutes. I’ll call you from there.” He hung up.
The deed was done. If nothing was wrong, then Eve was going to be very upset with her. Catherine sighed as she hung up the phone. At least she hadn’t told Joe the most frightening thing about Gallo’s call. No use worrying him unless necessary. Now all she could do was wait for Joe’s call.
The call came forty minutes later.
“She’s not here,” he said curtly. “The Jeep was still in the driveway. The house was left unlocked. A half-full coffee cup was on the front porch railing.”
“No note?”
“Nothing.”
“Shit.”
“My sentiments. If she went somewhere to meet Gallo, she would have used her own transportation. And she wouldn’t have left the house unlocked. We always use the alarm.”
“You think that Gallo decided he didn’t want to wait to set up a meeting?”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “There’s something else you should know. Gallo admitted to Eve that he was unbalanced.”
There was a silence, then an eruption of oaths. “My God, and she was going to meet him anyway? No wonder you were on your way back down here. You should have called me right away.” He added roughly, “Oh, I know why you didn’t. You two have this bond, and everyone else is on the outside. But if anything has happened to her, I’ll break your neck, Catherine.”
“And I won’t blame you. But you’d do better to think of breaking Gallo’s neck as soon as we find him.”
“And that will be damn soon. Are you somewhere near a city?”
“Knoxville, Tennessee, is about thirty miles from here.”
“Go to the airport. I’m renting a plane, and I’ll pick you up.”
“And where are we going?”
“You tell me. Can you locate Nate Queen?”
“He should be back in his office at INSCOM Fort Belvoir, Virginia, by now. But he also has a condo in Alexandria. Should I call him?”
“No, we’re going to pay him a visit. There’s too much wiggle room on the phone. He’s going to talk. I’ll know everything he knows about John Gallo within an hour after I have him. I’m going to pin him down so tight he won’t be able to breathe. As a matter of fact, that’s an even better idea.” His tone was savage. “Gallo thinks he owns Nate Queen? He just yielded possession. I’m the one who’s going to own Queen from now on.”
San Francisco International Airport
The gate area was crowded, and Paul Black was barely able to get a seat at Gate 2.
He would rather have been at Gate 1. From where he was sitting, he could see a little girl of seven or eight standing next to a flight attendant. She was a pretty, brown-haired little girl, her hair pulled back in a blue ribbon. Her face was eager, her eyes shining.
A first flight?
She was probably one of the thousands of unaccompanied minors who flew every month entrusted to the airlines flight attendants. The flight attendant seemed to be in her early twenties and was chatting with the man next to her.
While the little girl was going toward the doughnut stand in the center of the gate area.
It would not be easy, but it would be possible, he thought.
Train stations, bus stations, airports were all prime areas to make contact. Airports were a little harder, but that only made it more interesting. He usually preferred bus stations in European and Asian countries, but he couldn’t be choosy at the moment. He hadn’t had a kill in over a week.
The little girl had her doughnut and was coming back toward the flight attendant.
The woman barely glanced at the little girl when she sat down next to her.
Maybe it would be easier than he thought.
The mind-set of the people at travel centers was always different. Sometimes the travelers were nervous, excited, unhappy, but there was always a chance that their altered perception would lead them more easily to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do.
He had read once that Andrei Chikatilo, the Soviet serial killer who had been convicted of killing at least fifty-three women and children, had made a habit of contacting his prey at train stations. It was a wonder the fool had not been caught before. Personally, Black preferred to be unpredictable. It was the only safe method and, combined with his clever acquisition of Queen as a protector, it had worked wonderfully well for him. He had stopped counting at sixty-two kills and, though he had occasionally skirted capture, he had never been really in danger.
Paul Black glanced up at the clock. He had forty minutes before he boarded the flight. Time to spend them doing something he’d enjoy. He took out his cell and dialed Nate Queen.
“I’m coming after you, Queen,” he said softly. “I just thought I’d let you anticipate a little.”
“Black?” Queen’s voice was hoarse. “What are you talking about? Why? Haven’t I protected you? Let’s talk.”
The bastard was scared shitless, Black thought. Good. Fear was power. It was as heady as straight vodka. “I don’t like to talk. That’s what’s made our relationship work so well. You give me an assignment, and I do it. I give you a bill, and you pay it.” He paused. “Benkman didn’t like to talk, either. He just wanted to kill me and walk away. You shouldn’t have sent him, Queen.”
“Why would I want to kill you? You’re valuable to me.”
“I think you’re playing both ends against the middle. You don’t care how faithful an employee I’ve been over the years.” His voice was mocking. “No gold watch. Just a bomb under the terrace. So I must have been more valuable to you dead than alive.”
“It wasn’t me.” Queen’s voice was panicky. “Maybe Gallo did it on his own. He doesn’t tell me everything.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get to you both.”
“Look, we can work this out. You need me as much as I need you. They would have executed you years ago if I hadn’t protected you. You know that’s true.”
“And the reason you protected me is that you know the minute they catch me, I’ll tell everyone how you’ve constantly stolen evidence and whisked me away from the local police. In how many countries? At least a dozen.” Turn the screw. “And I’ll give details to the media. Ugly details horrify the media. You’re so comfortable in your cushy job, just waiting to retire and tap all the money you’ve stolen and go to some Caribbean island. That dream would be blasted to hell. They’ll start a witch hunt.”
“Maybe I made a mistake,” Queen said. “I admit I was getting nervous. I needed someone who would just do the kills I assigned, then go undercover until we needed him.”
“Oh, someone who didn’t like his job?”
He hesitated. “I may have thought that you were out of control.”
“I am. You’ve never been able to control me.”
The little girl at Gate 1 was wandering away from the flight attendant again. Black felt tension grip him. It was too tempting. The challenge, the possibility … the hunger.
“Give me another chance,” Queen said.
He jerked his attention away from the girl. “Why now? Why did you send Benkman now?”
“I told you that—” Queen stopped. “Gallo is becoming difficult. I’m tired of dealing with him. I needed a sacrificial lamb.”
Black burst out laughing. “And I was your lamb? What fools you are. You should have let me kill him when I wanted to do it.”
“We had our doubts whether you could do it. He’s as nasty a piece of work as you are.”
Black’s smile vanished. “I could do it.”
“Then maybe we could deal. You forget my lack of judgment. And I turn you loose on Gallo for a very substantial sum. Look on it as a challenge.”
The challenge was the little girl at Gate 1. Gallo would only be an am
usement in comparison. “How much?”
“Double the last job.”
“You really are finding him difficult. Or me a threat.”
“A little of both,” Queen said. “I want information from him before he dies. I need a ledger he’s been holding.”
“How do you know I won’t take it?”
“You wouldn’t be interested. Blackmail requires a certain effort and restraint. You only want one thing from us.”
Freedom to keep doing what he loved best.
Queen knew him better than he’d thought.
“I might be interested. I’ve always hated Gallo’s guts.” He added, “As long as you understand, you won’t get another chance with me. Where is Gallo?”
“Mazkal, Utah.” He paused. “Where are you?”
“San Francisco.”
“Very close.”
“I’m close to you, too. Only a few hours away.”
“But you’d get nothing by killing me.”
“Except satisfaction.”
“Be reasonable.”
“But all the FBI profilers say that men of my persuasion are seldom reasonable.”
The flight attendant at Gate 1 was leaning on the departure gate desk and talking to the gate agent.
The little girl was standing several yards away looking out the huge window at the planes.
“Black, change your mind.”
“I may. Or I may not. If you’re not dead in the next twelve hours, then you’ll know that I’ve decided to forgive you and gone after Gallo instead.” He hung up.
He leaned back in his seat, his gaze on the little girl. Such shining brown hair, such a pretty little girl.
Her flight wasn’t due to board for another fifty-five minutes. That was enough time to lure her out of the airport.
If the flight attendant was as careless and self-centered as she appeared.
If the little girl was as innocent and eager as he judged.
If Black could use all his skill and cleverness to persuade her to come with him.
It would be difficult. It would be a challenge …
So should he accept that challenge? Should he forget her and get on his flight to Washington? Or should he catch a later flight to Utah?
Let the little girl decide.
He got to his feet and strolled casually toward the window.
If it proved too awkward or dangerous a task to take what he wanted, then he’d return to his own gate and continue to Washington.
If he was able to lure the little girl from the airport, then he’d come back after he’d sated himself and take the flight to Utah.
He stopped a good five feet from the child and gazed out the window, ignoring her. Never too close at the start. In the crowded airport, it would be better to use words rather than actions. And they must be the right words. But he would have no problem. He was an expert, a master, at this game.
Queen or Gallo?
Sweet little girl, you choose who is to die.
CHAPTER
11
“YOU’RE PROBABLY GOING TO be very angry with me, Eve.”
John’s voice. John Gallo’s dark eyes looking down at her.
She was lying on a couch. Red drapes at the window. Where were they? A motel…?
“It may help to know that I made sure that you wouldn’t have so much as a headache.”
Not a motel.
She was jarred wide-awake.
She sat bolt upright on the couch. “What the hell!”
“It’s fine,” John said quietly. “It may not have been the diplomatic way to go about it, but you’re so surrounded by people who would have gotten in my way that I decided this was the safest way to handle it.”
She had a sudden memory of the numbing sensation as she’d handled the pen. “A knockout sedative in that pen? No, it wasn’t diplomatic. How the hell could it be?” She looked around the huge room. A study. Walk-in stone fireplace, book-lined walls, four floor-to-ceiling windows. “And where the hell am I?”
“My place in Utah. It seemed to be the safest place for a get-together?”
“Utah? You knocked me out and bundled me off to Utah? You are crazy.”
“I told you.” He smiled. “And you’re not scared. How refreshing.”
“You want someone to be afraid of you? It won’t be me. Go screw yourself.”
“I don’t particularly want it. It just happens. So I use it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now be quiet so that I can look at you. When I was masquerading as your friendly FedEx deliveryman, I was trying hard to make sure that you wouldn’t look at me. Which meant I couldn’t really look at you.”
She glared at him. “You had plenty of time to look at me while you were bringing me here. How many hundreds of miles?”
“But you were unconscious all the way here on the plane, and there was no spirit to be seen. What I remembered most about you wasn’t on the surface. I want to see if it’s still there. Just give me a moment.”
She drew a deep breath and tried to rein in the anger. She needed a moment of recovery, too. Shock and anger had blurred everything in their wake. She had reacted as she would have done if he had been the John Gallo she had known at sixteen. He was not that boy. He was a man and one of whom she had to be wary. But she’d be damned if she would be afraid of him.
Though perhaps there was a reason why he inspired fear, she thought as she studied him. There was a chilling quietness, watchfulness, about him that she didn’t recognize as a quality in the boy she had known. His stunning good looks had survived the years, same olive skin, dark piercing eyes, slight indentation in his chin. Faint lines at the corners of his eyes told of time in the sun, a thin strand of white streaked the dark hair above his temple. His lips were the same except for a curve that was faintly reckless. Yes, he looked older, harder; the edge that she remembered had become dagger sharp. He weighed less, still muscular, but spare, whip-lean.
Her gaze shifted up to meet his eyes. “As you can see, I’m not the same person. Comparisons are impossible. We start new, John.”
“On the contrary, everything I saw in you is still there … and more.” He tilted his head. “You had wonderful potential, and I didn’t even recognize it. I was so dizzy about what was between us that I was blind to anything else.”
“Potential? Don’t be patronizing to me, John.”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t think of it. You were always able to intimidate me.”
“Bullshit. Why?”
“Because you always knew what you wanted and could stay the course. I had problems in that direction.” He stood up and went over to the desk and picked up a silver carafe. “Coffee? I thought you’d probably need a shot of caffeine after you came back to me.”
“How do I know that there’s not another knockout drop in it?”
He smiled. “Because I have no reason. I had to get you here with a minimum of trouble from outsiders. So I put a trace of the fluid on the pen. Now there are no outsiders, and I’m willing to put up with any trouble I get from you.” His smile faded. “God knows, I deserve it.” He poured coffee into two cups. “You still take it black?”
“Yes.” How had he remembered that little detail?
“I do, too, these days. A strong dose of caffeine and a glass or two of wine are the only jolts I allow myself.”
“I don’t care about your taste in coffee. Why have you brought me here, John?”
“I thought I’d made that clear.”
“Resolution? Nothing needs to be resolved between us but the question of whether you killed my daughter.”
“Perhaps not for you.” He gave her a cup. “But you’re saner than I am. I need more structure.” He sat back down. “Structure is important when you’re tottering on the brink.”
“Brink of what?”
“Fill in the blank.” He lifted the other cup to his lips. “I’ve fallen into any number of abysses in my life. Some of them were hard to climb out of.”
“Am I supp
osed to feel sorry for you?”
“No, you’ve had your own falls.” He leaned back wearily in the chair. “Who would have guessed, Eve? We tried so hard to avoid being trapped, yet it happened to both of us. Terrible traps.”
“Mine wasn’t terrible,” she said curtly. “Bonnie is—was the highlight of my life and always will be.”
“You’re telling me you didn’t feel trapped when you found you were pregnant?”
“No, I felt stupid and angry with myself, but I always knew that I could find a solution. Afterward, there was no question of traps or anything else that wasn’t founded in love.” She gazed directly in his eyes. “Bonnie was all love. She bridged gaps. She made me try to understand myself and everyone around me. Do you realize what a wonderful gift that can be?”
“And you’ve never regretted having her even after all the pain you’ve experienced?”
“Regret? She lived. She lit up my world.”
He looked down into the coffee in his cup. “And then she was taken away from you.”
“Was it you, John?”
He lifted his gaze. “No.”
She was believing him, she realized incredulously. No, she mustn’t trust him. “Then you know who did it?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t tell me that.” Her voice was shaking. “You have to know something. You have to tell me.”
“I’ll think about it.” He sat up straight in the chair. “Though it would probably be better if I just sent you back to your police detective. Did you tell him about me?”
“Of course.”
He gave her a shrewd glance. “Not everything.”
“Details? No, he wouldn’t be interested.”
“I bet he would.”
“How did you know about Joe?”
“I know everything about you, Eve.” He finished his coffee. “One of Nate Queen’s principal duties was to compile and update dossiers on you. I know about your lover, your work, and your adopted daughter, Jane MacGuire.” He smiled. “She’s a very good artist. You’ll recognize one of her paintings on the wall as you go down the hall.”
She tried to hide her shock. She had naturally assumed Jane was not involved at all with John Gallo. “Why would you want to go to a gallery to buy her painting?”
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