Chasing the Night - Iris Johansen [40]
“And what can you do that you’re not doing?”
Catherine shook her head. “I don’t know. Move faster. Get really desperate and take a stab at using Kelly?” She looked at Eve. “The only thing I do know is that I have to know what Luke looks like so that I won’t get the wrong kid when I go after him. You’ll be finished tomorrow?”
“If everything goes right.” She didn’t speak for a moment. “I could keep Kelly with me after you leave.”
Catherine’s face lit. “You’d do that?” She grimaced. “Not that I’ll be able to get her to stay. She seems pretty determined. Still, thanks for the option.” She sat down in the chair. “Go on to bed. I’ll wait until Kelly gets out of the shower and tuck her in.”
“Good.” Eve yawned and started down the hall. “I’m ready for bed, and I still have to explain Kelly to Joe before I go to sleep. Try to get a few hours’ sleep before morning.”
“I will.”
“And don’t lecture the girl. She’s been through enough tonight.”
“Whatever you say.”
Eve glanced back at her over her shoulder. No, Catherine wouldn’t be giving that child a hard time. She was a strange combination of toughness and vulnerability, and Eve wasn’t sure which was stronger. But Kelly seemed to tap into that same reservoir of emotion that Catherine reserved for her Luke.
It wasn’t something that she should be worrying about, Eve thought impatiently. Both Catherine and Kelly had been catapulted into her life, and she would do the best she could for them, but after tomorrow her involvement would probably be over.
Why didn’t she believe that?
And why wasn’t she relieved?
The bitch had been frightened, Rakovac thought, as he stared thoughtfully at the photo on his desk. He had felt the jolt of familiar satisfaction at Catherine’s panic and shock. It was always like that when he twisted the knife. He tried to ration the extreme cruelties so that she would not become calloused, but there was no doubt that this time she had needed the flick of the whip.
Her use of Eve Duncan was not to be tolerated. She must stay groveling at his feet until it suited him to step forward and crush her.
“You just received a call from Ali Dabala.” Nicholas Russo came into the office. “He wants to know when he can set a date.”
“Let him wait. I’ve given him a tentative. The fool has no grasp of the importance of details. He doesn’t realize that one false step and his men will end up in Guantanamo.”
“He has a grasp on the huge amount of money he’s paid you,” Russo said. “He’s being pressured by Al-Qaeda.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Russo.”
“Then why are you still playing games with Catherine Ling?” Russo frowned. “You have no time for this.”
“There is always time for the pleasures of life.” Be patient. He still had use for Russo. As usual, Russo was dressed in an immaculate suit made by his favorite London tailor, and he was beautifully groomed from the top of his brown hair to his polished shoes. He was a good front man. Yet it was difficult to be patient. Lately, Russo had been very critical and overbearing, and Rakovac was well aware that Russo had always been slightly contemptuous of Rakovac’s lack of proper schooling and rough background. He added softly, “What I don’t have time for is a man who questions my authority. You’re acting like a frightened rabbit. Dabala is no more a threat than a hundred others I’ve dealt with over the years. The only difference is the money. I’m charging him enough to set up my own little kingdom on an island off the Brazilian coast. If you’re efficient and do everything I tell you, then you’ll have a place there.” He shrugged. “If you’re not, I’ll toss you to Dabala and let him deal with someone who is a possible informer.”
“You know I won’t inform. I’ve been with you too long.”
“And become rich. But we’ve never reached that level in the stratosphere where money can buy anything. But it’s only one more step, Russo.”
“A huge step. This is different. They’ll never stop searching for us.”
“And never find us. That’s why the money is so important.