Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [25]
“So are you. But then I haven't come across anything you're not good at. It's very depressing. Of course, you're not as well versed in the outdoors as you are in a casino. I'd judge the odds aren't nearly as good. But what do I know? You've proved me wrong before. However, I'm here to state that I'm not looking forward to any damp, earthy sojourn in the forest primeval.”
“You'll adjust.”
“Promises. I'll see you at nine at the hotel if you don't get your ass caught flitting around there.” Bartlett hung up.
Trevor pressed the disconnect and looked out over the lake. Jane was in that cottage. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon and she should have been in school, they were keeping her home, keeping her safe.
Or so they thought. There was no safety where Aldo was concerned. He was totally relentless and his patience was inexhaustible.
So that's how patient Trevor must be. Jesus, it was hard. He'd never been this close before. Well, he had to be patient. Jane MacGuire was a bright beacon that Aldo wouldn't be able to resist and he only had to watch until the bastard ventured too close to the flame.
Aldo would want to kill Jane with all due ceremony. No long-range rifle shot for him. And if he was right, the chances were good that Trevor would have time to get him before he could murder the girl.
“The odds aren't nearly as good.”
Well, Bartlett was wrong. The odds were always as good as the effort you made to make them come up a winner. He just had to divorce himself from all emotion and use intellect and logic. He had to forget that moment when he'd looked at Jane and seen the spirit and the vitality that shone from her face. She mustn't matter to him as a person, only as a means to an end. He'd made one mistake. He couldn't afford another one.
Or Jane MacGuire would be dead within the next few days.
It's definitely volcanic ash forensics found with Caroline Halliburton's body,” Christy said when Joe picked up the phone. “We're trying to determine from which volcano. No luck yet.”
“Scotland Yard can't help?”
“No conclusions about the ashes found with the other victims.”
“That's what Trevor said. How the hell did he know if he's not connected with the Yard?”
“There's the obvious answer.”
“Yeah.” And he should accept the probability. To hell with instinct. His training should dictate what he thought in this case. “Any report on Trevor?”
“Not yet. No info on a Mark Trevor in their data banks and it takes a long time to get a photo match from a sketch. No report on the fingerprints either. They sent them out to Interpol. I'll let you know when I hear something.”
“You'd better.”
“How's Jane?”
“Restless, impatient. A hell of a lot better than Eve and me. She doesn't like being cooped up.”
“That sounds like Jane.” Christy chuckled. “But she's not dumb, Joe. She's not going to do anything foolish.”
“What she considers foolish may not be what I consider foolish. She won't stay in the cottage. She says that having a police escort constantly on her heels is enough of a hassle without being made a total prisoner.”
“A visible police guard is usually an effective deterrent, Joe.”
“Usually.” He went to the window and watched Jane as she strolled down the lake path. Mac and Brian were several yards behind her but in clear sight and Toby was gamboling beside her. “I don't like to count on it. Get back to me the minute you hear anything.”
“Any news?” Eve asked as he hung up the phone.
“Volcanic ash. No location determined.” He turned to face her. “Nothing on Trevor.”
“Dammit.” She joined him at the window. “What's the use of all this technology if they can't pull up information when you need it?”
“Trevor impressed me as being very smart. He may not have any criminal record.”
“Yes, he's smart. But he tipped his hand with us. And if he made one mistake, then he could have made others.” She frowned. “And no one is an island in this day and age. What about the fingerprints?