Quinn - Iris Johansen [73]
Why?
She didn’t care any longer. She had been swept up in the dance, and every minute was charged, every hour was electrified by the knowledge that any minute she might see him again.
And that minute might be her last.
Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her jacket.
Eve.
“You haven’t called me in the last two weeks,” Eve said.
“I’ve been busy.”
“And you sound funny.”
“I just woke up.” And she hadn’t spoken to anyone for the last two days, when she’d called home and checked on Luke. “How is Joe?”
“Better all the time. He’s out of bed and in therapy. He may get released soon.” She paused. “I hoped I’d hear something positive from you before that.”
“So did I. Nothing yet.”
“You still think he’s in those woods?”
“Oh, yes.” She gazed at the shrubs several yards away. He could be as close to her as those trees. But she didn’t think so. She would feel him. These days, every nerve, every muscle of her body seemed attuned to him. “He’s here. I may be getting closer.”
As close as a lover.
“Well, you may have company soon,” Eve said. “I won’t be able to keep Joe away from there for long. Then we’ll both be up there to reinforce you.”
“No!” The rejection was sharp and instinctive, and it had nothing to do with protecting Joe, she realized. This dance with Gallo belonged to her. She didn’t want anyone else to cut in before the end. “Do your best to keep him away.”
Silence. “Are you all right, Catherine?”
“I’m fine. I’m dirty, I stink of sweat and dirt, and I know this forest better than I ever wanted to know any place. But other than that, I’m doing well.” She added, “I’ll try to call you more often. Give my best to Joe.” She hung up.
She took a protein bar out of the knapsack. Eat. Find a creek to wash her teeth and face, then start out again.
The eagerness was beginning to sing through her as she bit into the bar. It was going to end soon. She would find him and put him down.
Or Gallo would find her.
Either way, it would be the end of the dance.
Eight Days Later
CATHERINE’S BREATH WAS COMING hard and fast as she ran up the hill.
He was no more than a football field ahead of her. She had caught a brief glimpse of him on the lower slopes, then another a few minutes ago.
He was getting careless. He could have stayed deeper in the brush, and she might not have seen him. Are you getting tired, Gallo? I’m not. I can go on forever.
As long as the adrenaline of the dance kept her moving.
But he’d reached the top of the hill and disappeared into the trees.
She slowed, and her hand closed on her dart gun.
Her catching sight of him could have been a deliberate ploy on his part to lead her into a trap.
She darted into the trees, her gaze searching the darkness.
No Gallo.
She moved carefully toward the opening in the trees near the top of the hill. Where was he?
She stopped short as she reached the edge of the trees.
Gallo. Out in the open. The moonlight revealing him with crystal clarity.
He was on the shale slope of the cliff.
Why the hell had he led her there?
It didn’t make sense. He had to realize there was no cover for him until he reached the trees over forty yards away. He had been increasingly reckless for the last two days, and it had bewildered her. Dammit, did he want her to shoot him? For all he knew, it wouldn’t be a dart but a bullet that would cut him down.
She was being ridiculous. What difference did it make how reckless he was being? It was her chance to take him down.
She lifted her dart gun.
But if she shot him while he was on that slippery shale slope, he would probably roll down off the cliff to the lake hundreds of feet below them. She would kill him.
He glanced behind him.
She knew he couldn’t see her in the trees, but he was aware that she was there. Just as she knew when he was near her. It was part of the dance.
He smiled, and she knew it was at her. He was taunting her. Crazy. Dammit, he knew he was in range.
“Damn you, get