Quinn - Iris Johansen [42]
“And?”
“There’s a Rolodex on the other side of the desk. It would be natural for him to scan through it. This is the only address and phone number in the Rolodex in Allatoona.”
“You had it all planned.”
“But it all depends on whether he taps McVey’s apartment.” She smiled faintly. “I tried not to be too ‘sloppy.’” She got to her feet. “I’ll go lock those doors.”
They watched her leave the kitchen.
“Smart lady.” McVey looked at Joe. “I expected her to be different. I tried to get an interview with her right after her kid was kidnapped. She was a basket case. She’s changed. She took over from the minute she called me on the phone. She trumped me every time.”
“And you didn’t harass or try to manipulate her? What a surprise.”
“Knock it off, Quinn.” McVey gave him a sour glance. “Look, I’m still pissed about what you did with that damn knife. Sure I’d have tried to manipulate her. But she wasn’t having it. If anyone was manipulated, it was me. And that was fine. I couldn’t be happier. All I want is my story. I’m not going to get in your way as long as you know my priorities. You’re better at this than I am. Take over.”
“I intend to do that.”
McVey’s brows lifted. “Then you’d better watch out for Eve. She may cause you problems.”
He’d had nothing but trouble from Eve since the moment he’d walked into that house on Morningside. Those problems had been escalating lately from hills to mountains. He started down the hall. “I’ll worry about that when I have to. Just show me that equipment.”
* * *
HE PHONED SLINDAK TWO HOURS later. “Just thought I’d check in. I’ve located Eve and McVey and I’ve been trying to persuade them to call off this craziness. No luck so far.”
“Do you know McVey has another story running tomorrow? I talked to his editor, and it’s almost as inflammatory as the one today. Is the bastard trying to get her killed?”
“It’s all Eve. I can’t blame McVey this time. Though I’m doing my damnedest. Anything else new?”
“The shoes may have been manufactured either in Buffalo, New York, or Toronto, Canada.”
“You said they were different. Did you find out what was different about them?”
“Heavy rubber content in the soles … and maybe the uppers. I’ll call you back when I contact the manufacturer and find out who would buy a shoe like that.”
“Toronto…” He remembered something McVey had said. “Check the Canadian connection first. McVey said he thought the man on the phone was American, but that he pronounced the word ‘house’ a little oddly. I knew several Canadians when I was in the service, and you’d swear they were raised in the U.S. except for tiny differences in pronunciation.”
“Toronto, first,” Slindak said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Are you at your hotel?”
“No, I’ll check back in with you.”
A silence. “And you’re not going to tell me where you are?”
“I’m with Eve Duncan. You can make what you like of that. You did before.”
“I’m not about to make any insinuations. I don’t give a damn if you’re going to bed with her any longer. In fact, I hope that’s what you are doing. It’s safer than anything else she might draw you into.” He paused. “You’re putting a lot on the line for her. Is it worth it?”
Strength, exquisite fragility, intelligence, a smile that was a luminous rainbow in the darkness, the feeling that he was complete only when he was with her.
“She’s worth it.” He hung up.
He glanced at the clock on kitchen wall.
Eleven forty.
It’s close to midnight. Do you believe in the witching hour? Many murderers stage their kills based on superstition or the time of day.
He left the kitchen and strode down the hall to the living room. Eve was sitting in an easy chair beside the fireplace. Her back was straight, and her muscles appeared as tight as her expression.
She smiled with an effort. “Well, is everything satisfactory? I haven’t seen you for a couple hours.”
“It’s as good as it can be.” He turned out the overhead lights and dropped