Quinn - Iris Johansen [6]
Okay, deliver the omelet to her mother and go back down and interrogate Eve Duncan. No doubt that temporary aberration concerning the woman would have vanished by that time.
He stopped short as he saw a framed sketch on the wall. It had to be a sketch of Bonnie Duncan, but it was extraordinary. The photograph he had in his file was good, but the little girl in this sketch was drawn with such love and skill that it made her come alive.
Who had drawn it? Eve Duncan?
Stop wondering about her and stick to his job.
He knocked, then opened the door. “Mrs. Duncan? I’m Agent Joe Quinn. Your daughter sent you breakfast. May I come in?”
“I suppose…” Sandra Duncan was lying propped up in bed, and her Southern accent was much heavier than her daughter’s. “But I’m not hungry, you know. I haven’t been hungry since Bonnie…” Her eyes filled with tears. “I miss her. Why can’t you find her?”
Eve Duncan’s mother was in her late thirties and prettier than her daughter, but she had none of her strength or that riveting vitality.
“That’s why I’m here.” He carried the tray over to her and put it on her lap. “That’s my job. But you have a job, too. You have to keep up your strength and help your daughter.”
“Eve’s so strong,” she whispered. “I’ve never been strong. Except for Bonnie. I took care of her when Eve worked, and I did a fine job. Eve told me that all the time. But then somebody took her away.”
“But your daughter is still here. She needs you.”
She frowned. “Does she?”
“Yes. I want you to eat that omelet and take a shower, then go downstairs and help her. Will you do that?”
“I’d rather go to sleep.”
“It doesn’t matter. She needs you.” He handed her the fork. “We all have our jobs.” He turned and headed for the door. “It’s time that you did yours, Mrs. Duncan.”
“Sandra. Everyone calls me Sandra.”
He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Pretty name for a pretty lady. My name is Joe. I hope to see you downstairs next time I visit here.”
Sandra smiled tentatively. “You’re strong. I like a strong man. But are you strong enough to help Eve to find our Bonnie?”
“If you’ll all help me.” He closed the door and paused a moment before he went downstairs. Involvement. He should have let Eve Duncan handle her own personal problems. His only duty was to find her daughter’s killer. Yet he hadn’t been able to resist pushing Sandra Duncan to help her. According to his report, Eve Duncan’s mother was a former drug addict who had been rehabilitated at the time of her grandchild’s birth. It wouldn’t take much for Sandra Duncan to slip back into addiction at a traumatic period like this, and that burden would be all Eve Duncan would need on her shoulders.
Protecting Eve Duncan again. What the hell? The woman hadn’t even said a kind word to him.
It didn’t matter.
And that was more disturbing than anything about this encounter.
Go down and face her, talk to her, and that weird fascination would probably disappear.
He paused in the kitchen doorway. She was standing at the sink, washing the pan. He inhaled sharply. Impact. Strong. Stronger than before.
Ignore it. It will go away.
“She started to eat,” he said as he came back into the room. “Maybe it was the shock of seeing a stranger.”
“Maybe.”
“And how are you eating, Ms. Duncan?”
“I eat enough. I know I can’t afford to lose strength.” She started drying the pan. “What do you want to know, Agent Quinn?”
Yes, she was strong. He could see it, feel it. Like a fragile tree that would bend but never break. It hurt him, somehow. He quickly looked down at his notes. “Your daughter, Bonnie, disappeared at the park over two weeks ago. She went to the refreshment stand to get an ice cream and didn’t return. She was wearing a Bugs Bunny T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t see anyone suspicious loitering anywhere nearby?”
“No one. It was crowded. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be—” She drew a deep breath. “No one