Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [10]
“Me, too.” As usual, Joe had read her thoughts. He touched her lips with his forefinger. “Double. Say the word and I'll call the squad car and say I'm staying here for a few more hours. I probably won't be able to find out much at this hour anyway. I can leave at six.”
Her arms tightened around him. Joe . . . He was strength and life, and, Jesus, she needed him.
“Call them,” she whispered. “Six is soon enough.”
London
Trevor hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. “That was Quinn. I think he was impressed to find we start work early over here. I leave for Atlanta at nine.”
Bartlett smiled. “You said you'd get him. Do you want me to go with you?”
“Not now.” He got up and headed for the closet. “I'll call you if I need you. Dig out that file on Quinn and Eve Duncan for me while I pack. I've got to be prepared for them. I need to know them inside out.”
Bartlett had already retrieved the file and was glancing through it. “You may have a problem. They're both pretty complicated. Eve Duncan grew up in the slums with a drug addict for a mother. She had an illegitimate daughter as a teenager and it turned her life around. She went to college and worked at straightening out her mother. Her daughter, Bonnie, was taken and presumably killed by a serial killer when she was seven. The body was never found. It was thought that Bonnie was recovered a few years ago, but it was discovered later that it was another child.”
“And Quinn?”
“Born of privileged parents and was an FBI agent for a while before becoming a detective for the ATLPD. He owns a lake cottage and extensive acreage near Atlanta. That's where Quinn and Duncan live.” He glanced up at Trevor. “He's tough and smart and tenacious as a bulldog.”
“Weakness?”
“Eve Duncan. No doubt about it. He's been with her from the time of her daughter's death and he may have stayed in Atlanta instead of continuing with the FBI to be near her.”
“A button to push.”
“Not unless you want to set off a chain explosion.”
“Sometimes explosions are necessary.” Trevor smiled recklessly. “I'll risk it.”
“You always do.” Bartlett's smile faded. “They're tough. Both of them. Be careful that explosion doesn't take you out.”
Trevor snapped his suitcase shut. “Why, Bartlett, I believe you're worried about me.”
“Nonsense. I'm just too lazy to look for a new contact. Are you taking this file with you?”
“Not if you've covered the high points.” He set the suitcase on a chair. “I'll just glance at the MacGuire file while you go downstairs and hail me a taxi.”
“Again? You should have it memorized by now. There's not much there. Jane MacGuire's only seventeen, grew up in foster homes, and she's been with Duncan and Quinn since she was ten. She's an honor student and never been in trouble. But she's too young to have much experience or history.”
“I disagree. Look at her face. She's young, but there's a world of experience in that face. And he'll see it. It will draw him like a magnet.” He gazed down at the face of the girl staring boldly out of the photo. “The taxi, Bartlett.”
“Right away.”
Trevor barely heard the door close behind him. Excitement was soaring through him and he had to suppress it. He had to think coolly and clearly if he was to win this battle. And he would win it, dammit.
His finger delicately touched the cheek of the girl in the photo. She was close. Remarkably, marvelously, close.
“Close enough, Aldo?” he murmured. “Cira?”
THREE
Ruth really looked like me?” Jane gazed in disappointment at the empty pedestal. “I wish I could have seen the reconstruction before Joe whisked it away. May I go down to the precinct and take a—”
“No, you may not,” Eve said firmly. “You can see the photograph. You're sticking close to home for a while.”
“Because of that creep?” She shook her head. “I'll stick around here today but I've got a trigonometry test scheduled for Monday and I'm not going to let him stop me from taking it.” She went to the doorway and gazed at the patrol car parked down the road. “He'd be crazy to make a move when he can see Joe has me under surveillance.