Bonnie - Iris Johansen [107]
Eve could see Bonnie darting in and out of the crowds as she ran to get her ice cream. “And you saw Black there.”
“I told you I did.”
“Where was he?”
“Close,” he whispered. “So close. I knew it was going to be that day. It was so crowded. It would be so easy for him. I had to stop him.”
“But you didn’t stop him, did you?”
“I did. I did. I talked to her. I told her she had to go with me. I told her that there was a bad man who might hurt her or her mother. She believed me. She wasn’t afraid. She looked up at me, and she smiled. She said, ‘It’s all right, Ted. Don’t be scared.’”
“She knew your name?”
“I guess so. I don’t know how. Maybe I told her. I whisked her out to my car, which was parked in the street. I saw Black, but I didn’t know if he’d seen her with me. I had to hide her from him. I told her to jump in the trunk, and I’d let her out when it was safe. She didn’t argue. She did what I told her.” He swallowed. “She did what I told her.”
“He followed you?”
“I wasn’t sure, but I had to get her away. What if he’d seen her? I kept driving. I caught sight of a car that might have been Black’s a dozen times. I got caught in a traffic jam, and I was scared that he’d catch up with me. But then I finally broke free and got off the freeway. I drove out of the city until I came to the lake. Then I jumped out of the car and ran around to let her out.” Tears were running down his cheeks. “But he’d killed her. She was curled up as if she were asleep, but Black had killed her. The demon had taken her away.”
Eve stared at him in shock. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “It was hot that day. She wouldn’t have lasted any time at all in that trunk.”
“No, he killed her. It wasn’t my fault. I’d never have killed John’s little girl. She was a pretty little girl and so brave … I wouldn’t have done that.”
Eve closed her eyes. “Heat. You thought you were saving her from Black but that trunk must have been hot as an oven. The heat killed her.”
“No! Stop saying that. I told you what happened.” His voice was harsh as he pushed her forward up the trail. “I kept my promise. Now it has to be over. She has to leave me alone. I have to give her what she wants.”
Her eyes opened, but she could barely see through the tears. “She’s here?” After all the years, the uncertainty. “You brought her here?”
“Of course I did. She’s John’s little girl. I had to find a special place for her. But she wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to tell her that Black had killed her, but she wouldn’t believe me. Wherever I turned, she was beside me. Lately, it got worse. I tried to run away, but she was always there.” His hands clenched. “But I didn’t know what she wanted.”
And Danner couldn’t let himself believe that it had been his fault that Bonnie had died. A horrible accident that had become a guilt that had dominated his life and destroyed whatever sanity he still possessed.
“Listen. I can tell you what she wants.”
He shook his head. “I know now. A little girl needs her mother, and I took her away from you.”
And Danner wasn’t going to be dissuaded. She was so shaken that she didn’t even know if she could make the attempt. She would have to go along with it until she could either say something that would strike the right note or make a break.
Or find a way to kill Danner? He had killed her Bonnie. Accident or not, he had taken the daughter who had made her life worth living. Could she forgive him? She wasn’t sure that was possible.
She would think about that later, when she was able to reason and not just feel. At that moment, she couldn’t think of anything but Bonnie. An eagerness was beginning to spark within her.
He was taking her to Bonnie.
* * *
“SHE’S ON THAT CLIFF!” Joe stopped skidding across the sandy ground and shaded his eyes with his hand. “And that’s got to be Danner.”
“Yes, that’s Ted,” Father Barnabas said. “But how do we get to them?”
Good question, Joe thought. The cliff on which Danner and Eve were standing was several hundred feet above the valley floor, and it appeared as if they were going still higher.
Not by standing here wondering,