Iris Johansen - Quinn

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

STOP ME. FIND ME. KILL ME.

Agony tore through him as John Gallo pushed through the brush, the branches scratching his face as he ran.

How long had he been on the run?

Hours? Days?

And why couldnt he stop?

Why couldnt he let the sheriffs men find him, shoot him? He knew these woods so well that it was easy to avoid capture. Whenever they had come near, instinct and self-preservation had kicked into high gear, and he had fled.

And those instincts were so good, he thought bitterly. They had been honed by all the battles, all the killings, all the ugliness of his life. Save yourself so that you can kill again.

But at least he had not stayed to kill his hunters. That was part of the reason why he had not exposed himself. He couldnt trust himself not to kill them. He was too well trained, too expert in the ways of destruction.

And then there was the madness.

There was no telling where that sickness would take him.

He was climbing, he realized. He was climbing the high hill where hed done his last kill.

Paul Black. Hed broken his neck.

And Joe Quinn. If he was dead, that, too, could be laid at his door.

He broke free of the shrubs and trees and was standing on the edge of the cliff over the lake.

What was he doing there?

One step, and he would plunge over the precipice.

Why not?

Maybe that damnable instinct would not kick in when he hit the lake below.

It will, you know.

He stiffened, afraid to turn around to see who had spoken.

Madness. It was back, taunting him, torturing him.

Look at me.

He slowly looked over his shoulder.

A little seven-year-old girl, with curly red-brown hair wearing a Bugs Bunny T-shirt.

The same T-shirt she had worn the day she had died.

The day he might have killed her.

The agony was overwhelming, searing through him, blocking everything but the sight of her and his own guilt.

His daughter, Bonnie

Milwaukee Airport
Milwaukee, Wisconsin

YOURE JANE MACGUIRE?

Jane turned away from the baggage claim carousel to see the woman who had spoken walking toward her. It had to be Catherine Ling, she thought. Her adoptive mother, Eve, had described the CIA agent in detail, but the reality was even more stunning. Catherine Ling was part Asian, part Caucasian, and more exotic and magnetic than any woman Jane had seen except on the movie screen. She appeared be in her late twenties, tall, graceful, with high cheekbones, huge dark eyes slightly tilted at the corners, olive-gold skin, long dark hair pulled back in a chignon. But it was the aura of power and vitality that surrounded her that was the most impressive. As an artist, Janes first impulse was to ask her to pose for her. The second was to squeeze every bit of information she could from her. Im Jane. Youre Catherine Ling? How is Joe?

Is that your bag? Catherine lifted Janes suitcase off the carousel with easy strength. Joe was no better when I left the hospital. But as far as I know, hes no worse. Eve doesnt want to leave him, so she asked me to pick you up. Ive made reservations for you at a Hyatt near the hospital. Well check you in, then Ill take you to the hospital.

Jane shook her head. To hell with that. Im going to the hospital to be with Eve. I should have been with her ever since Joe was admitted. Its been almost two days. Why the hell didnt she call me before this?

You were in London, and there wasnt much you could do. Joe was in surgery for a long time. Eve said she didnt want to talk to you until she could give you good news. She headed toward the exit. That didnt happen, so she called you anyway. She thought you should be here.

Jane nodded jerkily. Thats what she said. She was so upset that she didnt realize how that sounded. I felt like I was flying to a deathbed. She took her suitcase from Catherine. She didnt even tell me what happened with Joe, only about his wound. A knife thrust to the back that did serious organ damage. Her lips tightened. A knife. Whose knife? I dont want to stress Eve out by asking questions. That means youre on the hot seat, Catherine. I want to know everything before I walk into that hospital.

Catherine nodded. I thought that would be my job. She stopped before a silver Toyota. Get in. Ill fill you in while I drive you to the hospital. She slipped into the drivers seat. But Im going to go through a drive-through McDonalds and get you a cup of coffee.

You think Ill need the caffeine to get through this?

Catherine gave her an appraising glance as she started the car. I think youre probably a cool customer. But you love Eve and Joe. They raised you from the time you were ten. You have a right to be upset and need a little bolstering. She pulled out of the airport parking lot. And if you dont, I do. Youre going to be pissed at me.

Am I? Jane stiffened. Why?

Im partly the reason Joe was hurt.

Then yes, Ill be pissed at you. Ill want to break your neck. Is Eve angry with you?

No, she says no one could have stopped Joe.

Jane slowly nodded. Shes right. No one could ever stop Joe from doing what he wanted to do. I knew that the first time I saw him. But it relieved me. I knew if Joe ever became my friend, it wouldnt be because Eve wanted him to do it. It would be because he wanted it himself. That was important to me. I was a ten-year-old Eve had picked up from the streets because wed known the moment wed come together that it was right we stay together. But Joe was a big part of her life even then. I didnt want to have to walk away.

And you didnt have to do it, Catherine said. You became a family. She smiled faintly. A very strange family. Eve Duncan, a famous forensic sculptor, Joe Quinn, a police detective, and you, a kid from the streets.

We learned to mesh, Jane said. Eve was no problem. Joe was slower. But we both loved Eve, so we worked at it. She smiled. And then as we got to know each other, it wasnt work any longer. Funny how love makes everything easier.

Yeah, funny. Catherine pulled into the McDonalds drive-through. Do you want anything besides coffee?

No.

Black?

Yes.

She studied Catherine as she gave the coffee order. How much love had Catherine had in her life, she wondered. Eve had told her shed been a street kid like Jane but had grown up in Hong Kong. Shed married a much older man, then been widowed. She had come into Eves life when shed asked Eve to help her find her son, who had been kidnapped by a Russian criminal wanting revenge on Catherine. Eve had helped her rescue him, and they had become close friends. There was no doubt in Eves mind that Catherine adored her son, Luke. But Jane had gotten the impression that, other than Luke, Catherines life had been her job as a CIA agent.

Youre looking at me as if youre trying to take me apart. Catherines look was quizzical as she handed Jane her coffee. Is it your artists eye, or are you taking aim?

Maybe a little of both. Jane met her gaze. I admit the first thing I thought when I saw you was that Id like to paint you. But youll definitely be on my list for extermination if you had anything to do with Joe lying in that hospital. Tell me what happened to him. She looked away, and added, Let me start you on the path. It was about Bonnie, wasnt it?

Catherine nodded. Its not surprising that was your first guess. I imagine youve lived with Eves obsession for finding Bonnie since you came to her.

Guess? Jane took a drink of her coffee. Finding her daughters murderer and her daughters body has guided her life. Its guided all our lives. Shes tried for many, many years to bring her Bonnie home. She looked out the window at the passing scene. And Joes been with her, trying desperately to understand, to help, to find Bonnie, so that Eve could be at peace. I cant tell you how many times shes come to what she thought was that final resolution and been disappointed. But she never gives up.