Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [24]
She was doing that now with the woman who must be Eve Duncan. The woman was still staring after her and Aldo could almost feel the love radiating between them. He had not been surprised when he'd discovered that Jane lived with the same forensic sculptor who had reconstructed Caroline Halliburton. It had just been another sign that the circle was tightening.
Even the police car parked down the road had not intimidated him. He could move in these woods as silently as a forest animal. And those policemen standing guard were only an indication that she knew he was near and was filled with fear.
As she should be.
Joe was lying still in the darkness when Eve slipped into bed but she could sense that he wasn't sleeping.
“Jane had another nightmare,” she said as she pulled the blanket over her. “I had to talk to her.”
“And?”
“Running down a tunnel, unable to breathe, someone in the tunnel with her but no threat.” She cuddled closer and laid her head on his shoulder. “It sounds like typical stuff but nothing's ever typical about Jane. We'll have to keep an eye on her.”
“I don't think there's any question about that,” Joe said dryly. “Particularly under the circumstances. And if it was as typical as you're saying, I don't think you'd have been out there on the porch for so long.”
Eve was silent a moment. “She says sometimes she's not sure it's a dream.”
“Now, that's not commonplace.”
“And a little scary?”
“No, it just has to be handled.” He gently stroked the hair at her temple. “You had your share of dreams about Bonnie and we fought our way through.”
Oh, yes, she remembered those first years after Bonnie's kidnapping when he'd been her rock in a seething whirlpool of despair. But she hadn't shared these last years of healing dreams of Bonnie with him. It was too bizarre. How would he handle those visions if she did?
“Eve?”
“What if she's right, Joe? Sometimes I wonder. . . . How do we know what are dreams and what's real?”
“I know.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Don't get all philosophical on me. You want to know about reality? Ask a hardheaded cop like me. We live and breathe it.”
“That's right, you do.”
He must have sensed the slight mental withdrawal because his arm tightened around her. “Okay, I'm not the most sensitive guy in the world. But I'm here for you and Jane. So take what I can give you.”
“You are sensitive, Joe.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, sure. The only reason I'm sensitive to you is that I love you so damn much that you can't take a breath without me knowing about it. Otherwise, I'm a tough son of a bitch and that's the way I want to stay. Tough isn't bad. Not if it keeps you and Jane safe.”
That was Joe, she thought. Loyal, smart, and denying any hint of softness. Jesus, she loved him. She turned her head and kissed him. “No, tough isn't bad,” she whispered. But she knew she wasn't going to tell him tonight.
Not yet, Bonnie . . .
I'm on my way,” Bartlett said. “I'm changing planes at Kennedy now. I couldn't get on the direct flight but I should be at Atlanta in a couple hours. Unless the police pick me up.”
“I think you're still safe,” Trevor said. “They would have stopped you from entering the country if Quinn had been able to trace your connection with me.”
“That's comforting. Where am I supposed to meet you?”
“The lobby of the Best Western Hotel at Lake Lanier. Don't check in. We'll be leaving right away.”
“And where are we going?”
“Quinn's lake house. Well, not the house itself. I've been sleeping in the woods for the past two nights.”
“Why? As I recall, I leased you a nice comfortable lodge north of the city. I was quite proud of how thoroughly I buried the paperwork.”
“I have to keep close to her. Sooner or later Aldo