“Nothing.”

“I think it does.” His lips were suddenly indented with the faintest smile. “My God, Catherine, I believe you’re planning on offering me a bizarre gift … of sorts. Incredible.”

“I’m not planning anything. Sometimes, things happen.”

“And that happening might include your taking out my uncle so that I don’t have to do it. You’d do that for me?”

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said crisply. “All of this is about Eve and for Eve. It’s probably in the cards for Danner to be eliminated, so that Eve can live. I’d be more efficient in doing that since I don’t have any emotional baggage. Why should you do something that could scar you for the rest of your life? It would be easier for me. Do you know how many kills I have?”

“I imagine the number is formidable.”

“It can be an ugly world, and I’m an agent. I do what my job calls for me to do. Do I like it? No, but I believe it’s worthwhile.”

“And do you believe I’m worthwhile, Catherine?”

“The truth? Worthwhile to me? I’m not sure. But I want you to live, so that I can find out. And I don’t want you to make stupid mistakes and get yourself killed because you hesitate when you should move.”

“I won’t hesitate. That’s over, Catherine. I’ll handle this. Back off.”

She shrugged. “We’ll see how it plays out.” She turned away. “But don’t flatter yourself that I’d do it for you. It would be for Eve … and for me.”

He chuckled. “And that flatters me enormously. I can do without your making this huge sacrifice to keep me from undergoing all this mental and emotional suffering. I like the idea much more of your selfishly trying to keep me balanced in case you can make use of me.”

She had thought he’d feel that way. It was much better that she kept the situation on that level. She could be as honest as she could with him as long as it did not make her vulnerable.

Or show him that she was already vulnerable.

“Then we understand each other.”

“Yes.” He was suddenly turning her to face him. “Sometimes, I understand you, Catherine.” His fingers gently traced the line of her cheekbone. “It’s not easy. You’re as complicated as Chinese cybercode. But when we keep it basic, I get a glimmer…” He was touching her lips with his forefinger. “And it makes me want to go deeper.”

She should break away. This wasn’t the time or the place. Neither of them wanted this to happen. The emotion had whirled into being like a tornado touching down out of a still sky.

She didn’t break away.

His fingers were warm, smooth, but she could sense the strength he was restraining. The knowledge of what lay behind that gentleness was erotic. Light and dark. Velvet and knife-edge. Lord, he was a fascinating man. The faint dent in his chin, his dark eyes fixed intently on her face, his well-shaped mouth, full and sensual. Stunning, perfectly stunning. Good looks rarely impressed Catherine, but Gallo was … unusual. He radiated a male sensuality so strong that it almost obscured the other, more conventional, elements. It made her want to reach out and touch him, get closer, absorb the scent of him, rub against him like an animal in heat. She could feel the pulse in the hollow of her throat begin to pound. Her cheek where he’d touched it was tingling with heat.

“I’d like to understand more,” he said softly. “I’d like to explore…” Then he shook his head, and his hand dropped to his side. “Stay out of it, Catherine. Stay away from me. You’ll be better off on both counts.”

The abruptness of his withdrawal jarred her. It was right, but it should have been she who made that move. It only emphasized the vulnerability that she was always on guard against. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea either.” She took a step back. “But I choose what’s good for me, Gallo.” Dammit, her body still felt flushed, tingling, ready. And it had only taken a touch. The realization annoyed and bewildered her. What the hell was this yen that she had for Gallo?

She turned her back on him. “And I may choose to let you stumble around and get your throat cut. I’ll have to take it under consideration.”

*   *   *

“HE’S HEADING IN THIS general direction.” Joe turned to the priest as he hung up the phone. “But Catherine says he’s smart, and it’s going to be difficult. She’ll let us know if he veers off in another direction as he approaches this area.” He looked out the window of the office at the grounds that contained neat rows of tents and project areas that were teeming with teenage boys and girls. “But I may have to take off and join them if we don’t get a lead here. This has proved a zero so far.”

“We have a few more counselors to question,” Father Barnabas said. “I told you that we wouldn’t get much more help from the administrator.”

And he had been correct. Max Daltrop had been pleasant, busy, and noncommittal, with the emphasis on busy. He had said that he had barely known Ted Danner but that he’d had good reports on him from the supervisors. Then he’d hesitated before requesting that they be careful about leaking any information about an alleged criminal who had acted as a counselor here. Joe couldn’t blame him. As far as he could tell, this camp did good work, and all it would take would be a hint of scandal to have a rush of bureaucrats pouring in to investigate closing it.

The priest’s gaze was on Joe’s face. “Max is a good man. He’s trying to cooperate.”

“I know. I won’t cause him any trouble unless I have to do it.” He looked down at his list. “We have three names left. Two supervisors, Bob Kimble, Dory Selznik, and a counselor, Ben Hudson.”

“Suppose you take Kimble and Selznik, and I’ll take the counselor, Ben Hudson. I believe that might be the most efficient path.”

“Why? Any reason?”

“Ben Hudson is twenty but has the mental capacity of a child of ten. I have the background to deal with him.”

“Ten? And he’s a counselor here?”

“Why not? A job makes any man feel worthwhile. Max put him in charge of teaching weaving and leather crafts. He’s almost an expert at it, and he does a good job of showing the kids how to do it.”

“And why does Daltrop think that we could get any information out of him? It doesn’t seem likely.”

“You never know. Danner spent a lot of time with him while he was working here. The kid trailed around the camp behind him like a puppy dog.”

Joe stiffened. “He did? Then that might mean he trailed him outside the camp.”

“And it might not. Max thought that it could be possible. But he asked me to do the questioning.”

Joe’s lips twisted. “Because he didn’t want me to be rough on one of his protégés? I’m not that much of a hard-ass. I don’t target problem kids.”

“No, but you could be impatient. According to Max, Ben is kind of special. He doesn’t want him hurt. Ben’s had a rough enough life. His father is a thief and a drug runner who is in jail right now for hitting his landlady and knocking her down a flight of stairs. Ben tried to stop him and ended up at the bottom of the stairs, too. The father has a record a mile long and evidently only kept Ben with him to get welfare payments. The state took Ben away from him twice, citing abuse, but let him go back. Our wonderful DEFACS wanting to give a parent every break. Even when it breaks the kid.” He turned and headed for the door. “I’ll talk to you after you finish with Kimble and Selznik. I believe they’re in the mess tent.” The next moment, he’d left the office and was striding toward the tents.

Joe didn’t move from the window, watching him as he reached a large tent on the perimeter and squatted beside a slim, sandy-haired young man sitting on a camp stool. The boy’s fingers were flying over a leather belt, and he looked up with a smile as Father Barnabas began to speak to him.

Special, the priest had called him. Perhaps in more ways than one. That smile was joyously luminous and touched his face with a radiant gentleness. There was something vaguely familiar about that smile.…