CLAYBORNE FOREST WAS STILL teeming with searchers when Joe arrived at the command post the sheriff's department had set up near the road. And the cavalry had arrived, he noticed.
The scowling red-haired man who was talking to that young deputy Pete Shaw was dressed in a dark suit and Joe would bet he was FBI.
The deputy turned to Joe in relief as he approached. "This is Agent Hal Cassidy, Detective Quinn. I've been filling him in, but I've got to call Charlie and give him my report. You talk to him." He hurried away toward his vehicle.
Cassidy shook his head. "My God, if they have nothing but kids like him conducting this investigation, it's no wonder Kistle is using them for target practice." Cassidy turned and shook his hand. "Venable told me about you, Quinn. What the hell is happening here?"
"I'm sure the deputy gave you the bare bones. What else do you want to know?"
"What the FBI is doing here," he said curtly. "We have no proof that we're even needed. It's a cop killing, but they have so many searchers they're tripping over each other. They should be able to handle it. And the deputy mentioned another possible kidnapping and murder, but how can we investigate it when there may not even be a crime? All the deputy could say was that a little boy, Bobby Joe Windlaw, was missing and everyone had thought he was drowned." He stared Joe in the eye. "Until you contacted Jedroth and he began to wonder."
"I didn't say anything about any local killings. I don't know anything about Bobby Joe Windlaw." But he remembered Jedroth had said something about the little boy during that last phone call. "I just told the sheriff I had suspicions and asked him for surveillance. I'd say those suspicions were warranted, since Jedroth ended up dead."
"We haven't been able to track down any records on Kistle yet." Cassidy's gaze shifted toward the trees. "And this kind of case could stretch on indefinitely. We might be beating those bushes for the next year. I've seen it happen. The locals should take care of it."
"Do you expect me to argue? I didn't call you into the case. Go back to St. Louis."
"Easy to say," he said sourly. "I've got work there, damn important work to do. I'll be out of here in a heartbeat if I can persuade the director to stop playing patty-cake with Venable."
"You've obviously made up your mind. Just give him your report."
Cassidy's gaze narrowed on Joe's face. "You don't want us here. Why?"
"I don't care whether you're here or not. It won't affect what I do." He walked away from Cassidy toward the bog where the two deputies had been shot. The bodies were gone, but chalk markings indicated where they had been found. The area was now cordoned off. Not that it would do any good after all the trampling that had gone on last night.
He moved closer to the bog and looked up into the trees. The men had been shot after they had entered the quicksand, and judging by the wounds, the bullets had come from the front and angled downward. That meant Kistle had probably been waiting for them in one of those trees. Which one…?
"The big oak on the other side of the bog."
He stiffened but didn't turn around. "Hello, Montalvo."
"What a pleasure to see you looking so strong and well again, Quinn. I was most unhappy when you were ill and a mere shadow of yourself."
Joe turned to face him. Montalvo was dressed in the same type boots, khaki pants, and shirt that had been almost his uniform in Colombia, and he looked very much at home in these woods. "Bullshit. I was in your way and you would have loved it if I'd croaked."
Montalvo chuckled. "Not true. That would have guaranteed that you'd remain a part of my life. Eve would never have forgiven me."
Joe felt a surge of rage tear through him. He had hated those days in Montalvo's compound when he'd been hurt and helpless, and in contrast Montalvo had been everything that was vibrant and powerful. The memory was still a throbbing wound. Keep calm. Calm, hell, he wanted to break the bastard's neck. "You're right." He turned back to the bog. "Eve is completely loyal to the people she loves."
There was a silence behind him. "A wonderful quality. A wonderful woman."
"What are you doing here, Montalvo?"
"Keeping a promise." He moved forward to stand beside Joe. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes."
"I can see how you'd have problems, considering the stakes. But in my way I'm an honorable man. One has to have some code to live by. I always keep my promises and I always repay my debts."
"And you don't have trouble collecting debts owed you," he said through his teeth.
He smiled. "That goes without saying."
"Do I have to ask why you're here?"
"The same reason you are. I want to bring in Kistle." He added softly, "I want to drag the dragon in front of the lady and cut off his head. And then I hope she'll think it worth giving me a prize. Isn't that what you want, Quinn?"
"That's simplistic."
"It's honest. Do I want to ease her pain? Yes. Do I want to give her the solace she gave me when she did the reconstruction on my wife's skull? With all my heart. Do I want to take her to bed and never let her go back to you? Absolutely." He looked out over the bog. "And this may be the way to do all three. So I'd be a fool to miss the opportunity that's offered."
"Why did you ask Venable to bring in the FBI if you wanted to go after Kistle yourself?"
Montalvo turned to him and smiled. "Can't you guess? If I don't catch Kistle, I don't want you to be the one to do it. I'd much rather the FBI pick him up than you be the hero. You're an ex-SEAL and I'm sure you can be very impressive when you're on the hunt. I'd really hate to see you slaying the dragon for Eve."
"You may be disappointed. Cassidy doesn't want to be here and he's looking for excuses to go back to St. Louis."
Montalvo nodded. "I gathered that from talking to him earlier. I'll have to find a way to change his mind."
"Then I assume that we'll get no cooperation from you tracking down Kistle."
"Yes, you will. That would be stupid of me. I'll help you all I can." He pointed to the oak tree across the bog. "For instance, that's the tree that Kistle used. It's the only one that would have given him the right angle."
"He was being chased and he had to take time to spread those branches over the quicksand. He would have had to run an extra quarter of a mile to go around the bog to get to that tree."
"He didn't run." Montalvo pointed to the branches of the three trees that overhung the bog. "He used the branches. He went hand over hand over the bog. It would have taken him practically no time to swing over the bog and settle himself in that oak tree."
"How can you be sure?"
"I'm not. But I saw two fresh scuff marks in the bark of that maple on this side of the bog. That has to be the one he used to climb and access the others. It makes sense."
Yes, it made sense, Joe thought. It shouldn't have surprised him that Montalvo would be able to work out the scenario. He had been a colonel in the rebel army before he had become an arms dealer and he had lived in the jungle for years.
"He would have to be extraordinarily strong and agile."
"Not so extraordinary. I could do it." Montalvo's gaze shifted back to him. "You could do it."
"We've had training and experience."
"So has Kistle." Montalvo smiled. "He spent six months surviving in the jungles of Nicaragua."
Joe stiffened. "How the hell do you know that?"
"Do you think I've been twiddling my thumbs since I left Colombia? I had to stay with Miguel during his surgery, but I've had investigators working nonstop on digging for information. I don't have your police contacts, but money is very persuasive."
"What else did you find out?"
"Not enough. Kistle has been brilliant about covering his tracks. But some of it may give us a clearer picture of him."
"Us?" His lips twisted. "Don't tell me you're going to share?"
"Of course. Eve wouldn't understand me doing anything else."
Damn, the bastard was clever, Joe thought bitterly. And he had studied Eve enough to know exactly how she would react. "And when are we going to be privy to this information?"
"That's up to you. Whenever you and Eve decide to set up a meeting with me. I'm entirely at your disposal."
"I could probably find out the same information if I worked at it."
"I'm certain you could. If you took the time." He glanced at Cassidy, who was talking to the deputies. "Perhaps he could help you. Oh, that's right; you'd prefer the FBI to do a quick exit."
"I didn't say that."
"No, but you want to catch Kistle and wring the truth out of him. It could get very messy and the FBI could interfere."
"So could the sheriff's department."
"You'd have no trouble with them." He turned away. "Miguel is at the hotel guarding Eve. When you want to see me, ask Miguel to contact me."
"Don't hold your breath. Where are you going?"
"I'm going to join Cassidy and tell him we should go check out that tree. Who knows? We may find something interesting."
Joe doubted it. Kistle's moves so far had been smart and careful. His gaze returned to the overhanging branches of the trees. Yes, he could almost see Kistle moving across that bog. Joe had crossed a narrow river that way when he was on a mission in Libya. Hand over hand, hands gripping, moving, gripping again, muscles straining. His heart had beat fast, hard, but not with fear. Joy, fierce exhilaration in the celebration of his own strength and the conquering of the river below him. He could feel that same flow of heady exuberance now. He had a sudden urge to climb that tree and follow the-
"It brings it all back, doesn't it?" Montalvo said softly. Joe turned to see him standing a few yards away, staring at the branches as Joe himself had been doing. "Life was simpler then. A soldier has so few rules to live by. Kill or be killed. Survive the fires, the rivers, the bullets. Live for the moment and enjoy that moment. Sometimes I miss it."
So did Joe. Every now and then he welcomed the chance to break free and become that man again, to embrace the savagery. "It was a long time ago."
Montalvo nodded and turned away again. "Yes, for me, too. But today it seems like yesterday. Isn't that strange?"
Joe watched him walk away. Hell, for a moment he had actually felt a kind of bond with Montalvo. So they had a common military background and some of the same feelings and attitudes bred from those experiences. As he'd told Montalvo, those experiences had been a long time ago and the war they were now fighting was with each other.
Montalvo stopped again before he reached Cassidy. "I'll be waiting for you to contact me, Quinn." He smiled. "I'm sure that Eve would want to know everything I know. Don't you?"
Bastard.
"I'VE BROUGHT WINE," MIGUEL said when Eve opened the door at six that night. He handed her the bottle. "I'm assured it's much better than what is stored in the cellars of this hotel."
"And who assured you?"
"Mr. BlackJack Calahan. He owns the only liquor store in Bloomburg." He looked past her to Jane as he came into the room. "You are Jane MacGuire. I'm delighted to meet you. I'm sure Eve has told you what a fine, upstanding man I am."
"She told me you're interesting." Jane looked at the label of the wine. "But you have very bad taste in wine."
"That's because I grew up in the jungle and I have no social skills. BlackJack lied to me?"
"BlackJack must have seen you coming." Jane put the wine on the table. "Eve's already ordered dinner. It should be here soon."
"Too bad. I thought I'd have time to impress you with my stories of life in Colombia."
"I'd rather hear if you've had any news from Clayborne Forest," Eve said. "I know about your life in Colombia." She looked down at his bandaged hands. "And what you went through makes me sick."
"It wasn't bad. Montalvo made it challenging. He likes challenges." His gaze went to the reconstruction of Carrie on the desk. "Is she dining with us? Not that I'd object. But it's difficult to divide my attention between the two of you, and that would-"
"Have you heard anything?" Eve interrupted. "I haven't heard from Joe since this morning."
"Montalvo saw him and I assume he was well."
"Montalvo and Joe?" Eve said slowly.
"All is well. Montalvo didn't mention attempted murder or mayhem on either part." He was staring at Jane. "You're very beautiful. That red-brown hair and brown eyes are like Eve's, yet you're different. Same strength, same character in your face, but it's not the same."
"If we look alike it's pure coincidence. We're not related."
"I think you are in spirit. But you're a firecracker set to gloriously explode. She's a wonderful enigma that could take a man a lifetime to solve."
Jane shook her head in disgust. "Talk about saccharine. I believe I'm going to be sick."
Miguel beamed. "And you have a tongue that's as sharp as a machete. I believe I may be in love."
Jane blinked. "What?"
"I can't be in love with Eve. That would cause too many complications. You're much safer. Do you have a man?"
"That's none of your business."
"Do you?"
"I have a relationship."
"Why isn't he with you?"
"Trevor has his own life. I have mine." Jane frowned. "Back off, Miguel."
He sighed. "I'll try to contain myself. But it's difficult. I would really have liked to have been in love with you. It would have been beyond everything."
Eve was shaking her head. "Stop making Jane uncomfortable or I'll kick you out."
"She's not uncomfortable, she's tough like you." Miguel smiled. "And she likes me, or she would have kicked me out herself." There was a knock on the door and Miguel swung around to open it. "That must be dinner. I'll get-" He broke off as he opened the door. "Good evening, Quinn. Eve was just asking about you. I told her you'd met with Montalvo and survived." He stepped aside to let him in. "I've been looking forward to spending the evening with your two beautiful-" His smile faded. "You're very grim. Does that mean that you're not going to permit me to intrude?"
"I don't care what you do," Joe said. "I'm going to talk to Eve and I want you to call Montalvo and tell him to come here tomorrow morning at eight. Then I'll get back to Clayborne Forest."
"Ask him," Miguel corrected. "I don't tell Montalvo anything."
"Then ask him." He turned to Eve. "May I talk to you?" She nodded. "Hell, yes. That's what I've wanted you to do since we got here." She turned and headed toward her bedroom. "I'll eat later, Jane. You two go ahead."
"We're being thrown together," Miguel said as the door closed behind them. "It may be fate, Jane."
"I doubt it," Jane said dryly. "I believe in fate, but this was Joe in tornado mode. Why don't you call Montalvo to set up that meeting for tomorrow? I think that would be more beneficial than all this chitchat."
"You're right. Montalvo will want to know. Will you lock me out if I step outside in the hall to phone him?"
"Privacy?" She raised her brows. "From me? When I'm the love of your life?"
He flinched. "Stung." He opened the door. "I'll make my call and then plead humbly to be permitted back in. You'll, of course, be impressed by my sincerity and-"
"Bullshit." She closed the door firmly behind him.
He was still smiling as he dialed Montalvo.
"Quinn is here. He wants you to come to the hotel at eight tomorrow morning."
"Good. I'll be there. I'm going back to see Cassidy again. I think he's been talking to his superiors about dropping the case."
"Are you going to be able to persuade him to stay?"
"I think I'll have to call Venable and see what he can do. Cassidy's right, technically the FBI isn't needed here."
"Then why don't you let him go back to St. Louis? We'd have much more fun without them getting in our way." He paused. "You want them here because Quinn does not?"
"Not entirely. The picture is much bigger. Is everything well there?"
"No sign of any trouble. Evidently Quinn also thought Eve should have protection. I was stopped in the hall by a deputy because I was a suspicious character."
"Obviously a man of perception."
"There's no need for me to be here. Why don't I meet you at-"
"No."
"Oh, very well. Enjoy yourself in the woods. I suppose I'll have to go have a fine dinner and be entertained by Jane MacGuire. You didn't tell me what a beautiful woman she is."
"I haven't met her yet."
"She's like Eve. Guarded. But you don't see it until you study her for a while. And she's very protective of Eve. She doesn't make a big deal of it, but it's always there."
"Eve adopted her when she was ten. It was a number of years after she lost her daughter, Bonnie. Jane was a street kid and probably as tough as you are, Miguel."
"I knew we were meant for each other. But she doesn't see it. She has other fish to fry." He heard the service elevator open. "Our dinner has arrived. I'll think of you in that damp hellhole of a bog while I drink fine wine and eat like a king. Good night, Colonel."
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO you, Montalvo," Venable said curtly. "I've just spent fifteen minutes talking to the director of the FBI, who wants to know what the hell his agents are doing in those woods when evidently half the population of Illinois is already stumbling around there. You said they were needed."
Evidently Cassidy hadn't wasted any time, Montalvo thought. "What's it going to take to get them to stay?"
"A valid reason. Proof that the local police can't do the job. Since it's a simple search and pursuit, you're going to get an argument."
"What about bringing up the possibility of the child killing? The investigation of Bobby Joe Windlaw's disappearance might require sophisticated techniques and expertise."
"When even the sheriff's department won't commit to whether they're certain the boy wasn't accidentally drowned? Sorry, I'd like to help Eve Duncan, but there's no-"
"I'll give you the location of Nortano's weapons cache near Bogotá. You've been looking for it for the last four years."
There was silence at the other end of the connection. "You son of a bitch."
"That little boy was reported missing after Kistle showed up in Bloomburg."
"I know. I know. Bobby Joe Windlaw," Venable said. "No body. Cassidy says that everyone thought he drowned in the river. His shirt and shoes were found on the riverbank."
"Kistle shows up. The little boy disappears. I don't believe in coincidences."
"No body," Venable repeated. "Find the boy's body and then come back to me."
"No, you do it and come back to me. I'm not the one who wants Nortano's weapons."
Venable muttered a curse. "I thought you'd walked away from that life."
"I have, but that doesn't mean I don't know the value of an ace in the hole. Stall Cassidy until you can find a way to locate Bobby Joe's body."
"Cassidy won't help until he's ordered to do it. He'll call it a wild-goose chase."
"Then that leaves it up to you, doesn't it?"
"I'm CIA, dammit. We're talking about jurisdiction. You know we're supposed to operate only outside the country."
"And the CIA never does anything but exactly what it's supposed to do, never steps on anyone's toes? I'm not asking you to join in the hunt for Kistle. But the boy's body has to be found and it has to be done quickly. If the FBI is called into the boy's case, then they'll have to go after Kistle as a possible suspect."
"And give you the FBI presence you want in Clayborne Forest. I'll see what I can do." Venable hung up.
Montalvo put away his phone and got out of the car and moved toward the forest. He didn't doubt Venable would do everything he could. He was smart and experienced and the bribe Montalvo had dangled in front of him would be tempting enough to be nearly irresistible.
In the meantime, he'd do a little scouting of his own and hope those nervous deputies didn't take potshots at him. He could feel his pulse begin to quicken as his gaze fastened on the trees. Kistle was there. He wasn't trying to run. He was waiting. The prey was armed and dangerous and wanted to kill the hunter. It was the game Montalvo liked most. He couldn't blame Miguel for being disappointed that he'd made him stay at the hotel. Miguel understood the game.
And so did Joe Quinn, he thought suddenly.
Quinn had felt the same heady excitement Montalvo was feeling. He had seen it in his expression this afternoon. They were alike in that, if nothing else.
Except for their feelings for Eve. Yet even in that emotion they could not be more different. Quinn was the keeper of the castle, familiar with every battlement, and had the advantage of a passionate desire to keep what was his. Montalvo was the enemy at the gates who had nothing to lose and everything to win.
And Kistle might be the battering ram that would be the deciding weapon.
He melted into the shrubbery and began moving toward the distant trees.
Come on, Kistle. Let's get this battle started.
VENABLE LEANED BACK IN HIS chair after he'd hung up his phone. Dammit, Montalvo was twisting his arm and he wanted to tell him to go take a hike. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting into jurisdictional squabbles with other law enforcement agencies. It made him look ruthless and antagonized the organization he was riding roughshod over. He didn't want to make an enemy of the boys at Quantico. In his world you never knew when you were going to need a favor. Montalvo shouldn't have put him in this position.
Nortano's weapons cache.
God, he wanted to clean that bastard out. Nortano had been a thorn in the Colombian government's side for years and Venable's agents would have a safer path if he could be removed.
And if Montalvo said he'd give him the information, he would do it. He'd never reneged on a bargain in the years he'd known him.
Okay, the decision was made. He had to have Nortano's cache. How to go about getting it without obviously compromising the Company's jurisdiction?
Bobby Joe Windlaw. Find his body. Montalvo was right: if the kid had been murdered, then he had an excuse to draw the FBI back into the picture. If Bobby Joe had drowned, Montalvo would still have to agree that Venable had completed his part of the bargain.
All right, how to find Bobby Joe. Think. Make a plan. Keep it from looking like interference. He'd done this kind of sleight of hand before. It was just more difficult on U.S. soil. He'd call in any favors he could draw on and beg, borrow, and steal if he had to. Now who could do the job in the way he wanted it done?
He suddenly stiffened in shock in his chair as the answer came to him. "Holy shit."
He reached for his phone.