Eve - Iris Johansen [92]
And then he had given her back her phone. Had he also given her a choice?
She slowly scrolled back to John Gallo’s call the first day that he had phoned her.
Choice?
She wasn’t prepared to make that choice yet. She was tired and emotionally drained. She had to give herself time to think and make sure she wasn’t going to stampede herself into doing something as impulsive as that sixteen-year-old kid she had been might have done.
She started to put the phone back in her pocket, then stopped and dialed the number of FedEx. She would have the skull delivered as soon as possible and start work.
Doing the reconstruction would remind her of who she was and how far she had come from that girl in the Peabody Housing Development.
* * *
JOE DIDN’T COME HOME UNTIL almost midnight. He’d called her late in the afternoon and told her he was going to have to work late on a murder case in Vinings.
He quietly slipped into bed. “Awake?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She yawned and cuddled closer. “I was working.”
“I saw the reconstruction on your worktable. I told you to take a nap.”
“I wanted to work. I didn’t do much. Only started the measurements.”
“Have you named him yet?”
“Dale.”
“Do you want to talk about him?” His hand was stroking her hair.
“Dale?”
“John Gallo.”
“No. Unless you want me to talk about him.”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “Not right now. But we’re going to have to do it. You’re behaving … I don’t know.” He pulled her tighter. “But I don’t like it.”
She didn’t like it, either. She didn’t like the fact that she had worked for hours trying to block thoughts of Gallo and Paul Black out of her mind and hadn’t succeeded. She didn’t like that she felt a tension building whenever Joe mentioned Gallo’s name.
He kissed her and nestled her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “We’ll work it out. Go to sleep.”
She closed her eyes, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath her ear. Life. She brushed her lips against his warm, smooth skin. She wanted to feel the textures, breathe the scents of him. She wanted to cherish this moment.
Because she could feel the choice approaching.
* * *
SHE GOT UP WITH JOE AND HAD coffee with him before he left for work. Then she started working on the reconstruction of the little boy. More measurements. Concentrate. They all had to be correct.
But she couldn’t concentrate. By eleven she knew there was no way she could block the decision any longer.
She shook her head as she gazed at the skull on the easel. “I’m sorry, Dale,” she said softly. “It’s not that you’re not important. But you’ll have to wait a little longer.”
She took out her phone and walked out on the porch.
Choice.
He had handed her the phone and must have realized what that meant.
She rolled back the calls and brought up the number from where he’d called her.
She pressed the button for return call.
It rang once, twice.
On the third ring, Gallo picked up.
“Is Joe Quinn standing at your shoulder?”
“No.” She had to gather her thoughts. She hadn’t been sure that he would answer. “I can’t involve Joe any more in this. He was shot last night.”
Silence. “I know. Hanks called and reported after he left the compound. I didn’t want that to happen. Is Quinn okay?”
“Yes. But it did happen. He was hurt. He could have been killed. This is your responsibility. Make it right. Tell me where to find Paul Black.”
He chuckled. “You’re using guilt to get your own way? That’s very ruthless, Eve.”
“I’ll use whatever I have to use. I have to find Bonnie’s killer. I won’t have Joe sacrificed on the altar of my obsession.”
“Yet you can’t give up the hunt.”
“No, and that’s my guilt.”
He was silent. “We’re a fine pair, aren’t we, Eve?”
“Tell me,” she said. “You said you didn’t want to destroy me. But can’t you see? I’m destroying myself and Joe. I have to find him. I have to find her.”
“You won’t let me do it for you?”
“I have to know. I have to be certain.”
“And you can’t trust me.”
“I don’t know you. I’ve never known you. How can