Eve - Iris Johansen [76]
He nodded. “How quick can he get here?”
“He was in Miami. He should be at Reagan National Airport by the time we drive there. Once we’re on the plane, we’ll look over Queen’s map and suggested plans of entry and see which one we think will work.”
“He caved quicker than I thought he would.” Joe’s tone was disappointed. “Too bad.”
“He wanted to get away from dealing with Gallo.” She moved toward the door. “And he was willing to get in hot water with his superiors to do it. They’re handling Gallo with kid gloves. He’s definitely got the upper hand. They’re not about to help us.”
“They don’t have to help us.” He opened the door of the car. “They just have to stay out of our way.”
* * *
SOMEONE WAS IN THE ROOM.
Eve woke, her heart pounding, her gaze wildly searching the darkness.
“It’s okay,” John Gallo said. “You’re safe. It’s just me.”
She could see him, only a dark shadow, sitting on the big chair by the window.
She drew a long breath and sat up in bed. “And that’s supposed to give me a sense of security? What are you doing here?”
“Nothing carnal. Though it’s natural that you should think of that. It was the bedrock of what we were together.”
“Not anymore.”
“I’m not as sure as you are. I still feel a stirring when I look at you. I don’t know if it’s memory or imagining how it would be now. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I’m going to turn on the lamp.”
“No, don’t. The darkness is easier for me.” He paused. “I’m naturally defensive, and I need to close everything out but what I’m going to say. Or I won’t say it. Ask me about Bonnie.”
Her every muscle stiffened. “Did you kill her?”
“I did not.”
“Then what were you doing in Atlanta that month?”
“I wanted to see her.”
“You knew about her? Your uncle Ted told you about Bonnie?”
“No, he died while I was in prison. If he wrote me, I never got the letters. I wish I could have been with him at the end. I loved him.”
“There wouldn’t have been letters. The Army reported you dead.”
“I know. It was an exaggeration, but not much of one.”
“How did you know about Bonnie?” she repeated. “How did you know I’d had your child?”
“I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure.” He leaned back in the chair. “God, I’m sorry, Eve. I promised I’d protect you.”
“I didn’t let you. I was too full of my own independence and made a stupid mistake.” She paused. “But it wasn’t a mistake. Bonnie was … If I hadn’t given life to her, that would have been the mistake. She was the happiest, most loving little girl I’ve ever known.”
“But it wasn’t easy for you.”
“What difference does that make? She was here. I had her with me for seven years. Do you know what a miracle that is?”
“Shit.” He was suddenly across the room and kneeling on the floor by the bed. “No, I don’t know anything about miracles. Or maybe I do.” His voice was muffled against the bed. “Maybe you were a miracle, Eve. I was lost and you gave me … something. Yeah, it was sex, but I think maybe it was leading somewhere else. We were just afraid to follow it. So we lost it.”
“And now it’s too late.”
“Is it? I guess it is. But it’s not finished. I don’t know if it will ever be finished. Not now. Not after Bonnie.”
“John, you didn’t even know Bonnie.”
“Didn’t I?” He laid his cheek on her hand lying on the bed. “After I was caught and thrown into that prison, it was like being smothered alive. I reached out and tried to think of anything that would take me out of there. I thought of my uncle and the good times we had. And I thought of you, Eve. Sexual daydreams? Sure, some of them. But not all of them. Sometimes it was like being in a cool, clean lake. Everything around me was hot and dirty and full of pain. But you were none of those things.” He was silent for a long moment. “But as time passed, it got worse. They did things to me that made me—I couldn’t hold on to Uncle Ted or you. I think I knew I was dying.”
“John…”
“I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me. I just have to tell you this. And you have to know it all. It was about three years after I was captured that I