A red plaid blanket on the grass of the reservoir.

Too John Gallo.

She looked away and went to the wide window across the room. The sun was going down behind the mountains, and the terrain was spectacular. The red of the rock spiked with the verdant fir and pines made it appear that the scenery she was looking at was on some exotic and distant planet. It came as a slight shock to see that there were wrought-iron gates barricading the house from the wildness of the terrain beyond.

Barricades. She would have thought that John would shun any kind of enclosure after that Korean prison. But the wrought iron was open and airy. Maybe that was a compromise he’d had to make. But why was the house barricaded at all? Who was he trying to keep out?

She turned away and headed for the door across the room that presumably led to a bathroom. She needed to shower and to think. She had been caught up with John Gallo, but there were other problems to consider. Even if Catherine had not told Joe about Gallo’s phone call, he would know that something had happened to her. She would never have just gone off and let Joe worry.

And what about Catherine? She had been joking about Catherine to the rescue, but Catherine would instinctively move to help her.

Dammit, Gallo had caused her a monumental headache by acting with such arrogant recklessness. And that headache had nothing to do with the knockout drops he’d given her. She had to find a way to contact Joe and make sure he knew that she was safe and avoid any overt action.

Fat chance. Joe never avoided any action if there was a chance he could take the game. He was already on edge, and this idiotic move of Gallo’s would be the spur. And how could she convince him she was safe when she wasn’t sure herself? Bringing her to this place had not been rational, and it was clear even Gallo’s friend wasn’t certain that he had come all the way back from that period of madness.

And if he hadn’t, then she’d deal with it. Gallo was her problem and no one else’s.

She couldn’t let that madness hurt Joe.

*   *   *

THE ROOM LOOKED MORE LIKE a library than a dining room, Eve thought as she paused in the arched doorway. The walls were lined with as many bookshelves as the study had been. A fireplace trimmed in copper added to the ambience.

“Hurry and sit down.” John Gallo rose to his feet from his chair at the head of the table. “Judy has been fretting about her fajitas getting cold. She’s a perfectionist about temperature.”

“Judy?” Oh yes, Hanks had mentioned John’s cook. “Heaven forbid I disturb any of your employees. She obviously rules the roost.”

“Food is important.” He seated Eve, then sat down again. “I found that out while I was in prison. It’s amazing how deprivation fine-tunes one’s appreciation of things we generally take for granted.”

“Deprivation?” The question had just tumbled out. She had not meant to ask him any questions about that period.

“I was a skeleton when I got out.” He shrugged. “But I managed to keep muscle tone. I exercised for hours every day to make sure that I’d be ready to act when I got the chance.”

“Evidently that chance came.” She looked around the room. “I like this room. It has a sort of subtle richness. It’s the kind of place where you’d want to linger and talk.”

His gaze followed hers to the bookshelves lining the room and she was surprised to see pride and affection in his expression. “I like it, too. I made the entire house into a haven. When I knew you, I had no use for havens, but that changed.”

“You must like books. I don’t remember that about you. I can’t recall you ever mentioning it.”

He chuckled. “Not surprising. We didn’t do much talking, did we?”

“No.” She veered immediately away from that implied intimacy. “And I didn’t know much about you in any area.”

“At the time, I was more interested in physical than mental exercises.” He held up his hand as he saw her expression. “I’m not talking about sex. I always had too much energy, and my uncle Ted managed to channel it by teaching me everything he had learned in the Rangers.”

She nodded. “Rick Larazo. I remember you saying something about it.”

His brows rose. “You have a good memory.”

And she didn’t want him to know that more was coming back to her all the time. She picked up her water glass. “It comes and goes. What about the books?”

“Another form of starvation. It actually was more intense because after a while, physical hunger diminishes. The mind doesn’t give up so easily. I stole a Bible, a book of verses, and a copy of The Encyclopedia of Mythology from the effects of one of the prisoners who died in my cell. They weren’t enough, but I was able to hone my memory and managed to develop other outlets.”

“Like card counting?”

“One of the more profitable. There were others that were more abstract, but I—” He broke off as a small, thin woman in jeans and a denim shirt came into the room. “You’re late, Judy. Here I’ve been bragging about your—”

“I’m never late.” She plopped the two huge covered dishes down on the table. “I had to wait until you got in here to start cooking. If you’d been in here on time, I might have had a head start, but how—” She stopped and tilted her head, studying Eve. “I’ve seen your photo before. And you’re sure no movie star like he sometimes brings here. No offense. These days movie stars don’t have to be glamour queens, but you don’t look—”

“Judy Clark, Eve Duncan,” John said. “And Eve is a star in her own realm.”

“Skulls.” Judy snapped her fingers. “You do something with skulls.”

“Reconstruction,” Eve said. “Definitely no glamour.”

Judy nodded. “But solid work, good work. I have a six-year-old little girl myself. I don’t know what I’d do if my Cara disappeared. I remember thinking that it probably made those parents feel better that they at least know, Ms. Duncan.”

“Eve. Mr. Hanks told me you had a daughter. She’s six now?”

“Yep.” Judy’s face lit up with a smile. “She’s real pretty. Not like me. And smart as a whip. She’s in the kitchen now, helping me. Would you like to meet her? I’m trying to get her to be more social-like. She’s kind of shy.”

An abusive husband, Hanks had said. That usually translated also to abuse toward the children. “I’d like that very much.”

“Then I’ll have her bring in some of the sauces when I bring in the tortillas.”

“I want to thank you for lending me these clothes. It’s very kind of you.”

“No problem. They’re not fancy but, like I said, you don’t look fancy yourself. They suit you just like they do me. Though I’d think John would—” She stopped. “I’ll go get the tortillas. I’m letting the food get cold.” She disappeared through the side doorway.

“Movie stars?” Eve asked Gallo.

“Not often. I was curious.”

“Another form of starvation?”

“No, as I said, curiosity. I wanted to sample, not devour.” He lifted the lid, and steam ballooned off the fajitas. “Like I do these fajitas.”

“You should have waited.” Judy had appeared with two covered plates. She was trailed by a little girl with sandy brown hair and huge brown eyes with extravagantly long lashes, who carried a tray of condiments. “You’re too impatient. I keep telling you, John.”

“Life’s too short.” John met Judy’s gaze. “Isn’t it?”

An indefinable expression flitted across her face. “Yeah, I guess maybe you’re right.” She set the covered plates on the table. “Which is why you should enjoy the hell out of my fajitas. Eat.” She pushed the little girl forward. “Cara, this is Ms. Duncan. She’s a friend of John’s. Say hello, honey.”

Cara stared at her gravely. “Hello. You’re wearing Mama’s shirt.”

“She was kind enough to lend it to me. I’m glad to meet you, Cara.”

Cara nodded. “I wanted to see you. Mama said you were better than the movie star.” A smile suddenly broke the gravity of her expression as she turned to John. “How is she better, John?”