Quinn (7 page)

“Not for the moment.” She swallowed hard. “But thank you for not trying to sugarcoat your answer. I had to know. Then it’s all about power?”

“And ego. If a killer has murdered successfully for a long time, then he begins to think he’s impervious to capture. He usually develops a pattern according to how often he needs his fix.”

“Fix,” she repeated. “It’s truly an addiction?”

He nodded. “And he’ll be as reckless as a heroin addict to get what he needs. More, because he believes no one can touch him.”

“A pattern.” She looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her. “The dates of the disappearances of the first three girls are approximately five months apart. Janey Bristol, six years, disappeared from Dunwoody three years ago on August 10. Linda Cantrell, eight years, was reported missing on January 30 from her home in Marietta. Natalie Kirk got off the bus but never made it home on June 5.” She glanced up. “But the other disappearances were less predictable. The next disappearance didn’t happen for another eighteen months. And the next two followed almost immediately. Within a few weeks of each other.” She tapped the third pile of files. “And none of these out-of-town disappearances took place during those eighteen months. They were all before the local Atlanta killings started. And there was over a year between those kidnappings. If he’s what you say he is, I don’t think he was taking a vacation. Where was he? What was he doing?” She added unsteadily, “Who was he killing?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. He could have been away from the area. Or he might have been in jail.” His gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “First a year, then five months. He’s getting hungrier.”

“Bonnie would have been three months. So maybe she wasn’t one of— I’m trying not to think of Bonnie.” She took another sip of orange juice. “That was one of the nightmares I was having last night.”

“And my nightmare is your having a nervous breakdown and leaving me without someone to help me find this bastard.” He took a pile of files from her. “So we’ll both go over these files and make notes and talk about them for another two hours. Then I’ll keep on, and you’ll take a nap on the couch.”

“I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Then I’ll call a doctor and get him to give you a shot. Take your choice.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” She went back to the file in front of her. “What are we looking for?”

“Circumstances surrounding the disappearance. Similarities, indications of any common traits in the victims or family members.”

“Family members?”

“It’s possible revenge was taken against the child for a perceived slight by the parents.”

“Why wouldn’t he just kill the parents?”

“It could still be on his agenda. He might want them to suffer first.”

“Yes, that would do it.” She opened the first file. “That’s a lot of things to look for, Joe.”

“And better done with a clear head.”

She ignored the jab. “How can you continue to work on cases like this? Doesn’t it make you sick?”

“Sometimes. But it makes me sicker to know that some arrogant son of a bitch is out there killing whoever he pleases and thinking no one is going to catch him.” He was scanning the files in front of him. “Seasons don’t seem to make any difference to him. In some instances, killers only murder in certain seasons or time of the month. Here we have victims in summer, fall, winter…”

“Maybe they’re not all dead,” Eve said. “We keep talking about killings. Maybe some of them were runaways or taken by relatives. Maybe they’re not— But I have to think of them as victims, don’t I? I have to look at these damn reports and think that a monster grabbed them and how and why he did it.”

“You don’t have to do it. Let me bundle up all these reports and take them away. No one is forcing you but yourself.”

“I know that.” She focused her gaze on the report in front of her. “Linda Cantrell.” The picture of the girl showed a child with dark hair and eyes and a wide white smile. “She was Hispanic, but that didn’t seem to have anything to do with her being chosen. The other children were black, white … no Asian…”

*   *   *

“I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS.”
Eve glared up at him even as she lay down on the couch three hours later. “I can keep on going. I don’t want to sleep. You have no right to threaten me with your damn doctor.”

“No, I don’t. But might is always right, and I have the advantage.” The sun had gone down an hour ago, and he turned off the lights in the living room. “So go to sleep.” He sat down in a chair across the room. “Four hours at least. Then I’ll let you work a little longer before I leave and go back to my place.”

“Go now. I don’t want you sitting there in the dark like a guard at an asylum.”

“Asylum. Strange choice of words. Why not a guard at a jail?”

She didn’t answer.

“Unless you’re worried because you might have a nervous breakdown. Do you think about it?”

“No, I don’t think about myself at all. I don’t matter. That just came out. Now stop trying to dig into my psyche.”

“Naturally, you’re distraught, and all kinds of crazy ideas are going through your mind. You’re walking a fine line, but we’ll get through it.”

“We? I’m the one who is walking that line. You’re strong and sane, and everything is in control in your world.”

“I’ll walk the line with you. If you think you’re going to fall, reach out, and I’ll be there.”

She was silent. “Why are you being so kind to me? You’re tough and cynical and … I don’t think that you’re one of those do-gooders who want to save the world.”

“The world is too big a project. You’re damn right I’m not a do-gooder. I usually run the other way. But every now and then, I run across someone who it bothers me to see struggling. I want to see you come out on top of this. It will make me feel good. It’s purely selfish.”

“Well, that relieves me,” she said dryly. “I’d hate being someone’s project.”

He chuckled. “No chance. You’d toss me out on my ear.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “I told you that I didn’t feel as alone when I was with you.”

“Then I may be safe for a while. Until the situation turns around, and you don’t need me any longer. Now why don’t you stop talking and try to nap.”

“I don’t want to sleep. You can force me to lie here, but you can’t make me sleep.”

“Are you paraphrasing that proverb about leading a horse to water?”

“I guess so.” She was silent again, and the next words came haltingly in the darkness. “Three months. The pattern is wrong for Bonnie. She has a chance that it wasn’t that monster, doesn’t she?”

“She has a chance.”

“You’re so damn encouraging. Give me a break.”

“I’d like to give you anything that you want from me. But I won’t give you lies … or false hope.”

“Damn you.” She said a moment later, “No, bless you.”

“Go to sleep, Eve.”

“If I do, the nightmares will come.”

“No, they won’t. I’m here for you. After you go to sleep, I’ll turn on that little stained-glass lamp by the door. If you show any signs of distress, I’ll wake you.”

“You’ll keep them away?”

“I’ll guard you through the night.”

“I shouldn’t be this weak. I hate it. I should be able to handle … I
hate
it.”

“I know you do. But it’s my turn now. When I’m walking my fine line someday, I’ll expect you to guard me from the night monsters.”

“I’ll do it. I promise…”

She was still, but Joe didn’t hear her breathing even and steady for another five minutes. Then he got to his feet and turned on the stained-glass lamp. He tucked a worn red cotton throw over Eve before he went back to his chair across the room.

He leaned back and watched the play of the soft, colored light on her face. Her cheekbones were more prominent than he had noticed before. She had lost weight in the short time since he had first met her. She couldn’t afford to lose it. He had to get her to eat more, dammit.

Eat and sleep so that she could survive.

So that he could survive.

*   *   *

HE DIDN’T HAVE TO WAKE
Eve until almost three hours later.

She jerked upright when he put his hand on her shoulder. “No!”

“It’s okay,” Joe said. “You were starting to breathe hard. I figured that you were being ambushed.”

“I was.” She pushed the hair back from her forehead. “But you showed up with the cavalry just in time.” She swung her feet to the floor. “I need to get a glass of water and wash my face.” She glanced at the clock. “I assume I’m being permitted to get back to work?”

“For a little while.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee while you—”

Eve’s phone rang, and she picked up the receiver on the chest by the door and answered it. “Just a minute.” She frowned as she handed the receiver to Joe. “Detective Slindak. He said you told him you’d be here.”

He nodded. “I had to give him a contact number. I was planning on calling him anyway.” He spoke into the phone, “Quinn.”

“I tried to get you at your hotel first,” Slindak said sourly. “You must be burning the midnight oil.”

“You might say that. Problems, Slindak?”

“Big-time. Some hunters found a child’s remains in a cave in Gwinnett County.”

“Girl or boy?”

He could see Eve tense.

“Girl. There wasn’t much left of the kid, but the scraps of clothing that remained coincided with the description of what Janey Bristol was wearing when she disappeared. I’m heading out to the crime scene. I thought you’d want to go, too.”

“I’ll meet you there.” He pulled out his notebook and pen. “Give me the directions.” He scrawled rapidly. “Is forensics already there?”

“Yes. And the officers who were called secured the area as best they could. There were three hunters who made the discovery, and they ducked into the cave to shelter from the rain. It’s still raining cats and dogs up there. They pretty well messed up the crime scene.”

“Great,” Joe said sarcastically. “Not that it would probably have done much good anyway. The kid has to have been subjected to animal and environmental exposure for all these months. But there might have been something. I’m on my way.” He hung up.

“Who?” Eve asked.

“Not Bonnie. We can’t be sure. The body is in poor condition, but the clothing would point toward Janey Bristol.”

Eve crossed her arms across her chest as if to keep them from shaking. “Six years old…”

He turned toward the door. “I’ll call you when I know more.”

“I’m going with you.”

He had been half-expecting it. “This is going way beyond just looking at records, Eve.”

“Yes, it’s looking at the remains of that poor kid. It makes me sick to think of it. But I have to be there.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I know nonprofessionals aren’t welcome at crime scenes. But you’ve stuck your neck out for me before. Do it now. I won’t get in your way. Look, I won’t even go to the crime scene itself. I’ll stay in the car.”

“And you’ll still see things you don’t want to see.”

“So I’m supposed to bury my head in the sand? No, I don’t want to see it. But that little girl didn’t want to be killed, either. It could have been Bonnie.” Her lips tightened in a mirthless smile. “Why not let me go? Slindak should be expecting it. You said he thought we might be sleeping together. He’ll just think that I’m getting what I paid for.”

“And what if I don’t want him to think that?” Joe asked grimly.

She ignored the question. “Take me, Joe,” she said urgently. “You knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with studying those reports. You knew where this would lead.”

Yes, he had known. Why was he even arguing? When he had copied the reports, he had made the ultimate commitment.

One more attempt.

“What would you do if I said no?”

“Follow you.”

He turned back toward the door. “Grab a raincoat. It’s raining up in Gwinnett County.”

*   *   *

THE MEDICAL EXAMINER’S VAN
was parked on the side of the road, and Joe drew in several yards behind it. “Stay here.”

Eve nodded. “You don’t have to remind me. I promised I wouldn’t get in your way. I just want to be here in case you find out anything.”

“Which will probably be nothing until we get the forensic reports.” He jumped out of the car and was immediately soaked by the pouring rain. He followed the glow of lanterns carried by shadowy figures that turned out to be officers moving behind the yellow tape several yards from the road.

“Quinn.”

He turned to see Slindak coming toward him. He was wearing a yellow slicker, but his head was bare, and his hair was as wet as Joe’s. “Where’s the cave, Slindak?”

Slindak nodded to the left. “Around that bend. It’s only a football field’s distance from the road. And it’s only two miles from a ritzy subdivision. The son of a bitch who killed her has balls of steel.”

“He thinks that he’s too smart to be caught. Not unusual.” But the degree of boldness was not common, Joe thought. “And he buried that other kid beside the freeway. How the hell could he be sure not to be seen by a driver while he was disposing of the body?”