Quinn - Iris Johansen [116]
She nodded. “But if he didn’t kill her, who did? Maybe Jacobs or Queen did it themselves?” She rubbed her temple. “I just don’t know. Catherine said Jacobs knew who did it and seemed scared to death to tell anyone.”
“He’ll be more scared when I get my hands on the bastard,” Joe said grimly. His foot unconsciously pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car jumped forward.
“Joe.”
“Sorry.” He lifted the pressure, and the car slowed. “You’re right, we don’t want to go off the road into the bayou. Hell, I can’t even see the side of road in this muck.”
“Then just crawl along. I allowed extra time when I told Catherine we’d be there in forty minutes.” She glanced out the thick white nothingness beyond the window. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of the twisted branch of a tree jutting out of the bayou, but almost immediately it was gone. “But I wish this fog would go away. It’s really eerie.”
“You think so?” Joe shook his head. “I was thinking it was kind of … comforting.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Why?”
“I don’t know.” He thought about it. “Or maybe I do. Before I came out of that coma, it was like this. It was like a soft blanket of fog that I was traveling through. Only it was dark and glowing, not this white mist. But I knew where I was and where I was going, and I wasn’t afraid. The fog around me felt warm and it somehow…” He searched for words. “… filled my heart. I could occasionally see something jutting out of the fog, but nothing was clear. Except you, Eve. ” He added simply, “And Bonnie.”
Her throat was suddenly tight. “And there’s nothing frightening about either one of us.” She reached out, and her hand clasped his on the steering wheel. “Because we love you.” She laughed shakily. “But I don’t believe that this particular fog is warm and comforting. And I’ll definitely disagree if you end up by dumping us in the bayou. I don’t care for either swamps or bayous. It makes me remember—” She inhaled sharply, her body stiffening.
His gaze flew to her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I saw something.” She turned in the seat, her gaze on the fog-shrouded bayou. “Someone.”
“A fisherman?” Joe asked. “Those would be the only people I’d think might be out in weather like this. Was he in a boat?”
“No. Maybe. I only caught a glimpse—” But that glimpse had startled her. “And it wasn’t a man. Or I guess it could have been, but I got the impression— Pull over, Joe!” Her gaze was fixed on the bayou just ahead. “Now.”
“Why?” He was frowning as he pulled over to the side of the road. “You think there’s someone in trouble?”
“No,” she whispered. “Not any longer.” She hopped out of the car and ran to the edge of the road, her gaze fixed on the billowing mist hovering over the water. “She’s not in trouble. That’s all over.” Her eyes were straining to catch another glimpse of that small figure moving slowly through the fog. No, she had vanished as quickly as she had come.
“It’s Bonnie. But why is she here? And why didn’t she come closer? This isn’t like her. She’s acting as if she’s—” A ghost, a spirit, a mystery from the mist. Not like her Bonnie. Her daughter had always been so real when she came to her that Eve had felt as if she could reach out and touch her, hug her.
“Bonnie?” Joe had come to stand beside her, his gaze on Eve’s face. “Are you sure? We were just talking about her. You could have been thinking about Bonnie and it translated thought into—”
“Imagining that I saw her?” Eve finished. “No, I did see her. That first glimpse could have been imagination, but then I saw her again as we rounded that curve. She was right there before me. I saw her face.” She gestured at the bayou. “She was there, Joe. You didn’t see her?”
He shook his head. “Not this time, Eve.”
She shook her head in frustration. “I tell you, she was there. ”
“I’m not questioning you about anything concerning Bonnie,” he said gently. “I’m far beyond that, Eve. If you say you saw her, then she was here. I’m only saying that