Quinn - Iris Johansen [119]
“And you’re doing what she wants.” Eve was gazing at him searchingly as she started up the stairs. “I find that curious.”
“Do you?” He smiled. “But can’t you see I’m terrified of your friend Catherine?”
Catherine made a rude sound. “Shut up, Gallo.” She turned to Joe. “Jacobs is going to cause us trouble. I hope he’ll be more cooperative now that he’s had time to think.”
“He’ll be cooperative,” Joe said grimly as he moved past her up the stairs. “Tell me what he’s told you so far. No, on second thought, let me start fresh.”
“Lord, it’s chilly up here.” Eve shuddered as they reached the bedroom door. “What are you doing, Catherine? Are you trying to freeze information out of him?”
Catherine frowned. “It wasn’t this chilly before.” She opened the door. “I don’t know why it would—”
“Dear God!” Eve took a step back, her gaze on the bed. “Catherine?”
Catherine’s gaze followed Eve’s. She went rigid. “No. Eve, no. We didn’t— Gallo!”
There was water on the floor around the bed.
Jacobs was still bound, spread-eagled on the bed.
And there was a knife sticking upright in his chest.
“Shit!” Gallo pushed by them and ran to the bed. Jacobs’s mouth was still taped, and his eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. Gallo checked the pulse in his throat, but they all knew it wasn’t necessary. “Dead. But how the hell—”
“The window.” The sheer white drapes were blowing from the open window, and Catherine was there in a heartbeat. “We were downstairs. He had to have come in the window.”
Dammit, she could see nothing through the heavy fog.
But she could hear something.
The splash of water being moved, the sound of suction in the mud …
“He’s in the bayou!”
“Heading south.” Gallo had already swung his legs over the sill and was climbing hand over hand down the side of house to the roof of the porch.
Gallo might think he was Spider-Man, but she’d make almost as good time going down to the front door and wouldn’t risk falling and breaking her neck, Catherine thought. She turned and was running out the room when Joe grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“One question,” he said.
“I don’t have time, Joe.”
“You have time for this one.” His glance shifted to Jacobs. “This isn’t some con you set up to convince us that Gallo was innocent? He didn’t get overenthusiastic and stick that knife in Jacobs?”
Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t do that, Joe.”
His expression didn’t lose its hardness. “I wouldn’t think that you would, but I wouldn’t think you’d be so dedicated to exonerating Gallo either. I don’t know what’s going on with you, Catherine.”
She tore herself away from him, her eyes blazing. “And you think because he once managed to convince Eve that he was the sun and the moon, that he’d dazzle me so that I’d lie for him? No way, Joe. He didn’t kill Jacobs, and neither did I. We were both downstairs waiting for you. Whoever did this must have followed us from the casino.” She turned on her heel. “And now I’m going to go into that bayou and try to catch the son of a bitch.”
“Go on,” Joe said quietly. “Eve and I will be right behind you as soon as I figure out which—”
But she didn’t hear the rest because she was already down the stairs and throwing up the front door.
Swirling fog.
Dampness.
And the sudden splash of movement in the bayou.
“Gallo!”
“Here.”
He was already in the water.
She took off her boots and socks, left her gun on the bank, and made sure her knife was firmly in its holster on her thigh. Then she jumped off the mossy bank and moved in the direction in which she’d thought she’d heard his voice.
The water was only up to her waist that close to the bank, but she couldn’t be sure what was in the water with her. Everything from water moccasins to alligators frequented the bayous. Just be careful and look sharp. She couldn’t see anything at any distance, but she would be able to tell if one of those predators was within