Bonnie

CHAPTER 3

IT WASN’T A NEW VEHICLE, Catherine noticed as she cautiously approached. It was a beat-up blue Chevy truck and the tires looked worn, almost bald.

No sign of the driver of the truck.

She’d been listening and hadn’t heard anyone come out of the bayou.

But she might not have been able to hear him. Gallo had said this creep was good. She trusted Gallo’s judgment.

When it didn’t concern his damned chauvinistic attitude toward her.

She stopped. She’d been tempted to check out the license plate and the glove box of the truck. Not smart. Better to wait and do all that later. Now she should wait and watch and listen.

Not much watching with this fog, but she could listen.

No sound.

The fog had come in again, and the truck was only a hazy outline before her. But she’d probably have company soon. Just wait and pounce when he came on the bank.

She stiffened. Something was wrong. She felt it. The hair on the back of her neck was tingling.

“THERE’S SOMEONE OVER there in the trees.” Joe grabbed Eve’s arm and pulled her to a halt. His eyes narrowed. “I think it’s Catherine.” He froze. “Oh, shit.”

She could see why he was cursing as she saw the tall man in the wet suit directly behind Catherine. Nothing could be clearer than that he was on the attack.

“I can’t get a clear shot,” Joe said with frustration as he put his gun down. “He’s right behind her. I’ll shoot her, dammit.” He moved to the side. “I’ll see if I can get him from another angle. Don’t call out and startle him. I don’t want to have him move on her before I can get my shot.”

If there was enough time.

It was going to be Catherine, Eve realized in agony. Catherine was the one who was going to die. And Eve had to stand there and watch it happen. She couldn’t even cry out and warn her.

But Catherine had been with Gallo in the bayou. Why wasn’t he there?

Dammit, where was Gallo?

THROW THE KNIFE.

Gallo’s hand was frozen on the hilt.

He had to move, but he couldn’t do it. Not this time.

It was as if everything were happening in slow motion.

He could see Catherine stiffening and knew those wonderful instincts with which he’d become so familiar were in play.

She knew.

Even as he watched, he saw her whirl and start to drop to the ground as she saw her attacker.

Too late.

He was already on Catherine, his knife raised.

It was coming down.

She was going to die.

“No!” The agonized cry tore from Gallo’s throat.

He threw the knife.

DEAR GOD, HE’S FAST, Catherine thought as she reached for the knife in the holster on her thigh.

Fall. Roll. Then stab the bastard in the gut.

But he was over her, his dagger coming down and-

He screamed as a bowie knife pierced the hand holding the knife and came out the other side!

Gallo’s bowie knife. She recognized it. And Gallo standing in the water several yards from the bank.

It gave her enough time to roll away and get her knife out of the holster.

“Dammit, get out of the way, Catherine.”

She glanced toward the trees. Joe. Trying to get his shot.

She rolled to the side.

The man in the wet suit was cursing as he turned and ran toward the bayou, bent low and zigzagging.

A shot.

Missed.

Then he was in the water. He reached out and jerked out the dagger piercing his hand, and threw it aside as he dove beneath the surface.

Catherine jumped to her feet and was at the bank of the bayou in seconds.

“Gallo, get him!” she called as she jumped off the bank into the water.

Gallo didn’t answer, and she couldn’t see him. The fog had come down again.

“Catherine, no!” Joe was suddenly standing on the bank beside the cypress tree. “Come back. Don’t take a chance. Don’t trust him.”

Of course, she wasn’t going to trust that murderer. He’d just tried to kill her. “He’s okay, Joe. Gallo’s somewhere out here, too. We’ll get the bastard. He’s wounded and losing blood.” She was starting to swim away from the bank. “Gallo!”

“Catherine, listen to me.” Joe’s voice was harsh, his fists clenched at his sides. “It’s Gallo I’m talking about. I saw his face. He wasn’t going to throw that knife. He wasn’t going to save you. Gallo didn’t care if you lived or died.”

Shock went through her. “No, you’re wrong, Joe. He did save me. Look, I can’t talk.” She began swimming faster. “I’ll blow my chance of getting that bastard. You’d better jump in the car and patrol the road. He might try to get out of the water as soon as he can. The blood is going to draw alligators.”

“Catherine!”

She couldn’t see him any longer. She was surrounded by the thick, heavy mist that felt as if it was going to smother her. She suddenly felt very much alone. But she wasn’t alone. There was a murderer out there who had been within an instant of killing her. Was he close? He could be only yards away from her and she wouldn’t know it. It would be smart of him to lie in wait and ambush any pursuers. It was probably what she would have done.

Her heart was beating hard, she could feel her pulse jumping in her throat.

She stopped swimming and listened.

She heard… something, a displacement of water… Where had it come from? Dammit, where was Gallo? She could have used someone to watch her back.

Gallo doesn’t care whether you live or die.

She heard the sound again. Closer.

She tensed, her hand reached down and grabbed her knife.

Come and see what’s waiting for you, son of a bitch. I’ve been on my own all my life. What was I thinking? I don’t need any help from Gallo or anyone else.

Come and get me.

SHE LISTENED AGAIN. She thought she heard the sound of moving water to the north.

To hell with staying and waiting for him to come after her. Go on the attack. She started swimming toward the sound.

“No!” Gallo was suddenly beside her. “Let him go. Do you want to get killed? He almost had you.”

“Let him go? Screw that. Listen. Do you hear him?”

“I don’t hear anything.”

And she didn’t either. He was gone. Or it could have been Gallo that she had heard.

“He’s wounded. He’s losing blood. He could be getting weaker,” she said. “But did you see him tear your knife out of his hand? He acted as if he didn’t even feel it.”

“Adrenaline. He’ll feel it later.” He started swimming toward the north. “I’ll see if I can zone in on him. You go back to shore and take Quinn and Eve in the car and see if he comes ashore again farther up the road. He’d be crazy to stay in the water with the blood attracting gators.”

“That’s what I told Joe. He may already be on the road.”

“Or he may not. You don’t want Quinn to come into the bayou after him. He may have been a SEAL, but I’d think you’d be worried about him having a relapse or getting an infection.”

She was worried because that would be Joe’s first instinct. He was going to be frustrated as hell because he hadn’t been able to pick off Jacobs’s killer.

Who had almost been her killer.

She nodded. “I agree he’ll probably try to come to shore again. It would be the smartest thing to do since he’s wounded.”

“Then go back and stop him.”

She shot him a glance. “You don’t want me here. Why?”

He turned away. “I can do it by myself.”

She stiffened. “So can I.”

“Then suit yourself. You’ll do what you have to do anyway.”

He swam off and was lost in the mist.

She was alone again.

He doesn’t care whether you live or die.

She hesitated, then started swimming in the same direction that Gallo had vanished.

Every few yards, she’d stop, listen, and swim again. At the end of forty-five minutes she was discouraged and frustrated. She was hearing nothing but the common sounds of the swamp, birds, insects, and occasionally something more heavy and threatening.

Alligator?

“Dammit, give up.” Gallo suddenly emerged out of the mist. His lips tight, his eyes glittering with anger. “I just saw a gator up ahead slipping off the bank out of the weeds. It’s enough that one of us is out here.”

“And why should it be you?” She glared at him. “Alligators follow the blood scent. Maybe we can follow him to the bastard. His wounded hand was-” She stopped and closed her eyes. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Get away from me. My feet have a few cuts from walking barefoot in that palmetto grove, and I was bleeding. I may still be bleeding. That killer isn’t the only one who will be attracting alligators. I didn’t even think of those damn cuts.” She turned and started swimming away from him toward the bank. “Stay away from me, Gallo.”

Gallo was swearing, but he was swimming behind her. “You’re an idiot, dammit.”

“Yes, now shut up and go away.”

“The bank should be due west.”

“Go away. I won’t be responsible for your being an alligator’s lunch.”

“Be quiet and swim.”

She was already swimming as fast as she could. Five minutes later, she saw the hazy outline of the bank looming ahead of her. “There it is.” She looked back at him. “Now get away from me and go find him. Be careful. I don’t think this damn fog is ever going to lift.” She paused, and added deliberately, “It’s a wonder that it cleared enough so that you could make a decent throw.”

He didn’t answer. He turned in the water and once again vanished into the mist.

EVE WAS STANDING AT the edge of the water when Catherine pulled herself onto the bank. “You lost him?”

“Gallo’s still after him in the bayou.” She looked down at the soles of her feet. “I had to come back because these torn-up feet are alligator bait.”

“I’ll say they are.” Eve grimaced as she looked down at the cuts. “And I don’t have anything to clean them up or bandage them.”

“I can wait until I get back to the house. Where’s Joe?”

“On the road, checking to make sure that the killer doesn’t get away if he comes out of the water again.” She added, “Though he wanted to follow you into that bayou this time. He was feeling very frustrated.”

“But at least he didn’t do it.”

“I wouldn’t let him. He might have ended right back in the hospital. I’d have knocked him on the head if necessary before I let that happen. I told him I’d stay here and tell you what he was doing, and he could be a hero if and when that bastard came ashore.” She looked Catherine up and down critically. “And your feet aren’t the only problem. You might end up in the hospital, too, unless you get out of those wet clothes.”

“I don’t have much choice. This isn’t over until we catch him.” She was wringing the water out of her hair. “I’m fine.”

“You were almost dead,” Eve said bluntly. “I was scared to death. Joe couldn’t get a bead on him without shooting you. He was swearing a blue streak when he missed that shot at him before the bastard dove into the water.”

“He was quick, damn quick.” She took off her black shirt and wrung it out. “And he must have a high tolerance for pain the way he tore that knife out of his hand. Gallo said it was adrenaline.”

“Maybe.” Eve’s tone was absent. “You almost died, Catherine. But Gallo came to the rescue.” She paused. “I was wondering where he was.”

“I was too busy to wonder. And I’m the only one who is responsible for me. Where’s that dagger…” She was looking on the ground for the dagger her attacker had dropped when Gallo’s bowie knife had pierced his hand. “There it is. We don’t have to worry about prints. He was wearing the gloves to his wet suit.” She picked it up and examined it. “Nothing unusual about it. Commonly used by sportsmen, undersea explorers, and scientists.” She smiled at Eve. “I’d bet Joe might have even used one like it when he was a SEAL.”

“You’ll have to ask him.” She was staring at the knife. “The one sticking in Jacobs’s chest was much bigger and more vicious-looking.”

“This is for utilitarian use. It could be that one was for pleasure.”

She shuddered. “Pleasure in murdering a helpless man?”

“Jacobs was afraid of him. At least, I guess it was him that he was raving about. He was afraid of someone. It was what he expected.” She frowned. “But it wasn’t what we expected. I thought we’d get Jacobs to talk.”

“But we might be able to get prints from the truck,” Eve said as she turned to the vehicle. “That’s more likely.” She went around in back of the truck. “Louisiana license plates.”

“And I’d bet the truck was stolen.” Catherine started forward, then stopped. “I want a forensic team. He was too careful, too good. If he left any evidence, it will be minimal, and I want to have every chance of retrieving it.” She turned and dropped on the ground and crossed her legs. “So I suppose we patiently wait until Gallo or Joe brings him back to us.”

“Patiently?” Eve dropped down beside her. “That’s not like you. Why?”

“It’s not like me. And usually it’s not like you. But for some reason, you’re thinking that’s not going to happen. You think that we’re not going to get him. I knew it the moment I saw you standing, waiting on the bank.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You would have gone with Joe. Why would you have been waiting here for me?”

“I had to make sure you were safe.” Eve was looking out at the bayou. “I wanted to know that he wouldn’t find and kill you out there. I had to make sure it was over.”

“Over? It’s not over, Eve. We haven’t got him yet.”

“But he didn’t kill you. I was sure he was going to.” She moistened her lips. “I was sure that you were the one. But I was wrong, she must have been sad for Jacobs’s death.”

“She?” Then she shook her head. She didn’t need this right now. She had been shocked when she had learned that Eve believed she was communicating with her deceased daughter. She couldn’t understand how a woman as sharp and reasonable as Eve could be delusional. “Bonnie? Eve, I can’t handle talking about Bonnie’s ghost at the moment. I don’t want to insult you by arguing how improbable that is, but I’m too practical not to think that you’re fooling yourself.”

“I don’t want to argue. You have to think what you have to think. I just answered you. Bonnie knew someone was going to die today, and she was sad about it.” She reached out and touched Catherine’s arm. “I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

“And now you think that the threat is over? I suppose she whispered in your ear?”

Eve smiled faintly. “No, did she whisper in yours? I think perhaps she did.”

Catherine frowned. “What the hell do you mean?”

“You say I was acting out of character when I didn’t go with Joe. But why weren’t you chomping at the bit to get back in the water to keep after Jacobs’s killer? That’s very unusual behavior for you. You’re utterly relentless when you have a target in mind.”

“You believe I gave up the hunt.” Catherine’s eyes narrowed on her expression. “I’m interested in why you’d think I’d do that.”

“Because you realized that it wasn’t the right time, that you weren’t going to catch him.” She didn’t look away from the fog-wreathed bayou. “So why not give in to your concern for Joe and leave Gallo to chase that killer.”

“It’s not the right time? You’re being too weird, Eve.”

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully. “But I’ve been thinking lately that all of this is like unrolling some kind of ancient scroll. We see a little bit, but not the entire story. And no matter how hard we try, we’re not going to be able to finish it until she’s ready for it to be finished.”

“Well, you’ll have to ask her to forgive me, but I intend to unroll the whole shebang according to my schedule and not hers.” She got to her feet and crossed to the edge of the bank. “Where the hell is Gallo?”

“But you haven’t really been worrying about him since you got back, have you?”

No, she hadn’t, Catherine realized. She had been worried about the gators, not the possibility of his encountering Jacobs’s killer. “He can take care of himself.”

Eve smiled faintly. “And it’s over for the time being. Until next time.”

“Bonnie’s crystal ball again?”

“Call it what you like. I think it’s closer to the concept of faith.”

“And that scroll you spoke about gets unrolled a little bit more?” She turned to look at Eve. “Well, I’ve been thinking of a way to jump-start it. Did you and Joe get a good look at that bastard when he was attacking me?”

Eve shook her head. “He was directly behind you until he actually pounced. He was tall, very thin, and his stride was… springy.”

“His face?”

“No, as I said, he was behind you. And when he attacked, he was bent over you. I couldn’t see his features.”

“Joe?”

“We can ask him. He had a different angle than I did when he got off the shot. He might have seen his face.”

“I hope he did. I had a full view of his features for just an instant or two. It would be good if I had another witness to corroborate my take on him. Gallo was in the bayou, close enough to throw that knife. He probably had a good chance to see him,” Catherine said. “You’ve been trained in police sketching as part of your training, Eve. Can we try to get a recognizable sketch of this guy?”

She nodded. “Since you think that fingerprints aren’t very likely, it would be one of our only options. But it had better be soon. Memory fades in an amazingly short time.”

“I’ve been trained in memory retention for debriefing situations,” Catherine said. “I’ll concentrate and get a picture that will hopefully stay with me.”

“Anything remarkable about him?”

A tan face, pulled tight by the hood of the wet suit. Bushy dark brows flecked with gray. Remarkable? There was something unusual, but it was eluding her at the moment. “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe it will come to me…”

The fog was growing thicker again, she noticed. Gallo wouldn’t be able to see anything. Why didn’t he give up? She hadn’t been concerned before about Gallo, but now she was beginning to feel uneasy. There was no reason for it. It was probably caused by all of Eve’s talk about scrolls and Bonnie, and that other stuff that was pure mysticism.

But she wished Gallo would come back.

HE SHOULD TURN BACK, Gallo thought as he paused to listen for the hundredth time. He’d been out here for at least ninety minutes, and it had been a futile effort.

How had he gotten away?

He knew the answer.

He was sharp and experienced as he’d always been, and never without an emergency escape plan.

Give it up and go back to shore.

Not yet. He would give it a little longer.

Wait. He heard something.

A motorboat!

He turned in the water and swam in the direction from which he’d heard the sound of the motor.

The second line of defense for the escape plan.

Get to him before he got away.

If he didn’t catch him now, the hunt would go on.

And it would lead Gallo straight to hell.

“IS CATHERINE OKAY?” Joe asked, when Eve picked up his call.

“Yes, she came back to the shore not long after you left. But Gallo is still out in the bayou.”

“I’m not worried about Gallo. I just wanted to be sure that Catherine hadn’t been hurt.”

“I take it you didn’t see him?”

“I think we’ve lost him. I’ve been going up and down this road for hours, with no sign of him. But a while ago, I heard the sound of a motorboat in one of the inlets. He might have had a boat stashed there.”

“It’s possible.” She glanced at the truck. “But it would seem like overkill. If he followed her from the casino, it would take some fast scrambling to set up a backup like that.”

“Or someone very practiced in a maneuver like this. I’m on my way back. I should see you in about ten minutes.” He hung up.

She turned to Catherine. “He thinks that we’ve lost him. Maybe a motorboat in the inlet.”

“It took Joe long enough to give up searching,” Catherine said. “I notice you didn’t discuss your theory about the ever-unfurling scroll with him. You could have saved him some time.” Then she made a face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. I just have problems with the idea of fate dictating our lives. I believe we mold our own lives, our own fates, and if we work hard enough, we can make a success of things. I thought you believed that, too.”

“I do,” Eve said. “But there appear to be some things that are out of our control. I found that out years ago, when I lost Bonnie. After that, I discovered damage control and to work with what I was given.”

“A ghost?”

Eve slowly nodded. “I don’t expect you to accept the idea. It took me years to come to terms with it.”

“Eve…” Catherine reached out and took her hand. “I admire you, I trust you, I believe in you. I just can’t believe in this particular.”

“You didn’t believe that Gallo was innocent of Bonnie’s death at first. But now you’re willing to fight for him.” She smiled. “And that’s a good sign for an eventual understanding.”

“Don’t count on it. We’ll just agree to disagree. I can’t promise that I’ll ever-” She broke off and whirled toward the bayou. “I heard something.”

Eve did, too. And the next moment, she saw Gallo stand up in the shallow water and wade toward the bank. She felt a rush of relief. He looked tired and discouraged, but he wasn’t hurt.

“No sign of him?” she asked as he levered himself out of the water.

“No. He got away.”

“Joe said he heard a motorboat in the inlet,” Catherine said. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Where’s Quinn?”

“He’ll be here in a few minutes. He just called.”

“Good, I want to get back to the house.”

“You said you heard the motorboat. Did you see him?”

“Yes, but he was halfway across the bayou, then he was lost in the fog.” He glanced at the truck. “Have you searched it?”

Catherine shook her head. “No, I called Venable, and he’s going to arrange to get a forensic detail out here. Though I don’t know what our chances are of getting prints.”

“Nil,” he said flatly. “Maybe trace evidence.”

“You seem very certain,” Eve said.

“Do I?” He got to his feet. “As certain as I can be under the circumstances. I’d judge he wouldn’t leave a trail.”

“We may not be able to ID him from prints, but Catherine saw him. I may be able to do a sketch from her description. Could you help? Did you get a good look at his face?”

“No, sorry. You think there’s a good possibility that you’ll be able to get a close enough resemblance?” He glanced at Catherine. “You’ll remember him?”

“I’ll remember him,” she said quietly.

He looked away from her face, and his gaze traveled up and down her body. “You look almost dry.”

She shrugged. “I took my clothes off and wrung them out. You should do the same.”

He shook his head. “I’ll change when I get back to the house.” He turned his head toward the road. “I think I hear Quinn.”

Eve nodded as the car came around the bend of the road. “That’s Joe.” She watched Joe park on the side of the road and called to him as he walked down the slope toward the bank. “Gallo heard the motorboat, too, Joe, but it was moving out of sight when he got to the inlet.”

“That’s convenient.”

Gallo stiffened. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“He saved Catherine’s life, Joe,” Eve said quietly. “I think we can do without antagonism and accusations.”

“Yes, he saved her life.” Joe’s gaze met Gallo’s. “But why did he wait until he had to target the hand instead of another part of the body? That was an incredibly difficult throw. If he’d missed, it could have been all over for Catherine.”

“Perhaps he’d just arrived on the scene,” Catherine said. “Gallo wouldn’t have deliberately chosen to-”

“Gallo was standing in the water watching his approach,” Joe said flatly. “I saw him while I was moving in the brush to take my shot. He was watching, not moving, not lifting his knife. He acted as if he were frozen.”

“I took him out,” Gallo said.

“Barely,” Joe said. “A knife between the shoulder blades would have been a hell of a lot more efficient.”

“And would have run the risk of leaving him dead and unable to be questioned. Ask Eve how she would feel about that.”

“You’re saying that you deliberately risked Catherine on the altar of leaving that killer alive to tell us what we need to know.” Joe shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think you had another agenda.”

“And that would be?”

“I don’t know yet.” He paused. “Of course, you could have been going to let Catherine be killed, but when you saw me on the bank, you decided you had to make a token effort.”

“No way,” Catherine said. “You’re reaching, Joe.”

Joe’s gaze never left Gallo’s face. “But you still left that bastard alive and able to escape. Then you stayed in the bayou for hours, supposedly searching for him, but came up empty. Even when you were close enough to that inlet to hear the motorboat. A picture seems to be emerging. I’m wondering why you would do all that.”

“Keep wondering.” Gallo turned away and moved toward the trees. “I’m not defending myself to you, Quinn. I’ll see you all back at the house.”

“Get in the car, Gallo,” Catherine said. “I’ve been through that brush. It’s hell on bare feet.”

But Gallo had already disappeared into the palmetto shrubs.

“Okay.” Catherine turned to Joe. “You’re saying that Gallo didn’t want Jacobs’s killer caught. Why? Are you still thinking that Gallo had something to do with Bonnie’s death? That maybe he didn’t kill Jacobs himself but he had an accomplice do it?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit until I find out why Gallo didn’t throw that knife when he had a better chance of taking out his target.” He turned away and started up the slope. “And I don’t regard any argument you can give me as credible.”

She stared at him. “Why the hell not?”

He looked back over his shoulder. “You’re being emotional. You’re not thinking as clearly as you usually do.”

“He made the throw. He saved my life. I was with him in that house, and I know he didn’t set Jacobs up to be butchered.”

Joe didn’t answer as he got into the driver’s seat.

Eve could sense the frustration Catherine was feeling. She was feeling a similar frustration, mixed with uneasiness. Yes, Joe’s suspicion could be based on his history of distrust of Gallo. But Joe was smart and cool and seldom let anything interfere with his logic. “Come on.” She took Catherine’s arm and nudged her toward the slope. “Get in the car. I don’t want you getting angry and stomping off into the brush like Gallo. After looking at the soles of your feet while we were sitting on the bank, I’m surprised you can walk.”

“I’m all right.” Catherine started up the slope. “But I won’t let Joe make me pissed off enough to hike back.” She added through set teeth, “I’m not credible? I’m too emotional? Screw him.”

“He used the wrong words,” Eve said.

“You bet he did.”

“But you wouldn’t be this upset if you didn’t think that there was some truth in what he said.”

Catherine’s gaze flew to her face. “Do you believe Gallo was going to let me die?”

“No.” She smiled. “But I’m emotional, too. I don’t think nearly as logically as Joe. As we’ve already discussed, sometimes gray seems white to me.” Her smile faded. “And there may be a good deal of gray in this scenario. Gallo may not be pitch-black, but he could be bordering on charcoal.”

Catherine shook her head. “He saved my life. He wouldn’t have let me be murdered.” She got into the backseat of the car. “And that’s not an emotional judgment.”

“No,” Eve said as she climbed into the passenger seat. “It’s more like faith.”

“HOW ARE YOUR FEET?” Gallo stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his gaze on Catherine, who was sitting in a chair by the stove, her bare feet soaking in a pan of warm water. “I’m glad you’re taking care of them. Salt water?”

“Yes.” She met his gaze across the room. “I always take care of myself.”

His lips twisted. “Quinn wouldn’t agree with you.”

“Joe thinks I’m ‘emotional.’” She looked at his feet, encased in boots. “You tore your feet up, too, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You deserve it. You were stupid. I had no choice. But you could have just kept quiet and let yourself be driven back to the house.” She sloshed her feet in the water. “Did you bandage your feet before you put on those boots?”

“Yes, I take care of myself, too.” He came toward her. “Where are Quinn and Eve?”

“They’re calling Jane MacGuire. Eve promised to keep in touch with her.”

“And Eve always keeps her promises.” He took the towel draped over the chair next to Catherine’s. “Did you call Venable again?”

“No, but he called me and said he’s on his way here. He asked a favor of New Orleans Police Department, and the forensic team should be here anytime to check out that truck.”

“He’s moving fast.” He fell to his knees, took her left foot out of the water, and enveloped it in the towel. “It’s not that urgent, is it? Not to the CIA.”

“No. And Venable has no real reason to come down here. He knows I can take care of it. Which means that he has another reason to move in.”

“You’re obviously valuable to him.” He was gently patting her foot dry. “He wants to make sure nothing happens to you.”

His hands were warm through the terry of the towel, and his position at her feet and the action itself were unbearably intimate. She felt a rush of heat go through her.

Not now. The searing sensuality was unexpected, and she felt the tensing that was now familiar. Pull away from him.

She didn’t move. She watched him slowly move the terry over her foot. Each stroke was causing her to tense, the blood to rush beneath the skin at his touch. “Venable isn’t that protective. He wants something.”

“What?” He placed her foot on the floor and lifted her other foot from the water. He began to dry the top, then cradled it in the towel. “You have beautiful feet.”

“No feet are beautiful. Some of them are just not ugly.”

“You’re wrong.” His hands tightened around her foot, his eyes focused on the towel. “I never dreamed I had a foot fetish. I keep thinking where I’d like to put-” He drew a deep breath. “That’s not where I meant this to go.” He began to dry her foot again. “I’m constantly becoming distracted when I’m around you.”

“Where did you mean it to go?” she asked unevenly. “I’m curious to know, Gallo.”

“I wanted to tell-” He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. “I never wanted him to kill you, Catherine. No matter what Quinn says, I’d never do that. You trusted me when no one else did, when I didn’t even have faith in myself. I was planning on taking him out earlier. I thought I’d have time. But then everything went to hell.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t expecting him-” He broke off and threw the towel aside. “Shit.” He jumped to his feet. “I never meant it to be that close, Catherine. But I had to target his hand. I tried, but I couldn’t do anything-” He was striding to the door. “But I wouldn’t have let him hurt you. I couldn’t stand that either.” He looked at her over his shoulder, and she was shocked at the torment she saw on his face. “That damn Quinn was right about almost everything else, but he was wrong about that. Believe me, Catherine.”

Before she could answer, he was gone.

She collapsed back in the chair and drew a shaky breath. She felt vulnerable and hot and bewildered. Those moments with Gallo had been explosive, and she had not come out well. She had responded, not been aggressive. She had not been in control. She should have asked him questions instead of trying to puzzle him out and being swayed by what he was clearly feeling.

What she was feeling.

Dammit, she’d have to go after him and make him-

She heard the sound of a car starting outside.

“No!” She jumped to her feet and ran out of the kitchen, down the hall, and threw open the front door.

Gallo was already driving the car out of the driveway and toward the road.

“Gallo!”

He didn’t answer, and, the next moment, the car disappeared around the curve of the road.

“Catherine?” Eve was behind her. “What’s wrong?”

Catherine threw her arm out toward the road. “That’s what’s wrong. He’s gone. He took off.”

“Gallo?” Joe said as he came out of the living room.

“Who else? Did he say good-bye? Did he explain more than muttering a lot of disjointed garbage? No.” She went back to the kitchen, tossed the water from the pan out the door, and sat down. She glared at Eve and Joe, who had followed her from the front door. “But he’s not going to get away with it. I’m going to go after him.” She opened the first-aid kit she’d set out in readiness to bandage the cuts on her feet. “But first we’re going to find out everything we can put together about the man who killed Jacobs. Dammit, Jacobs was scared because he knew who killed Bonnie. I know it. If we’d had just a little more time, we’d have made him tell us everything. It had to be that man we lost in the bayou. We’re close, Eve.”

“But Gallo may be closer.”

“Not for long, dammit,” she said through clenched teeth.