“Joe…”

“I’d do the same for Lassie.”

His smile vanished as he shut the door and strode toward his car. It was going to be hard as hell to give her space. He wanted to hover, build a wall, keep all the ugliness away from her.

And he didn’t like the fact that she was distancing herself from him. She had gone through a tremendously painful experience at the Bristols’. Instead of it drawing her closer to him, she had become quieter, more independent. He had been almost able to see her strengthen as each blow had struck her.

If he hadn’t cared before, that courage would have made him love her.

He stopped at the pizza restaurant and sat in the car for a moment. No, he couldn’t go back. He would do what he’d told her he’d do.

Be patient. Keep in contact, but give her a moderate amount of space. Do his job and find the bastard who had killed her Bonnie.

And be ready to catch Eve when she was downed by that final horrible blow.

CHAPTER

6

“WE GOT THE REPORT on the print on the shoe.” Slindak stopped by Joe’s desk the next afternoon and handed him a sheet of paper. “He’s big. Size thirteen. It’s a work shoe, but it’s not the usual model built for construction workers. The pattern on the soul is different and deeper. It’s not a product of any of the major U.S. companies. Schweitzer, the owner of the shoe company, is going through his catalogs and seeing if he can locate where it was purchased.”

“Different and deeper,” Joe repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I suppose we’ll know when Schweitzer gets back to us.”

“That’s not good enough. I’m calling the Bureau and getting them on it.” Joe reached for the phone. “I’ll make a copy of this before I give it back to you.”

“Suit yourself. My feelings won’t be hurt. That’s why we called you into the case.” Slindak strolled across the room toward his desk.

Joe finished his call and leaned back in his chair. Call Eve and tell her what they’d learned? Which was virtually nothing as yet.

Hell, yes. It was a reason to make contact. She had only been going to spend the one night at the motel. She should be home now. He was about to dial again when the phone rang.

“Mr. Quinn?” It was Sandra Duncan’s soft, Southern voice. “I do hope you’ll excuse me for phoning you. It’s really nothing, but you’ve been so nice to me I just knew you wouldn’t mind me bothering you.”

“You’re right. I’ll be glad to help you. Are you still at Pastor Nambrey’s? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, Eve doesn’t want me to come home yet. She said I was to stay at the pastor’s until she called me.”

Joe’s hand stiffened on the receiver. “That’s … strange.”

“That’s what I thought, but Eve didn’t want to talk about it.” She hesitated. “Eve’s been real upset. You know that. I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t— It was such an odd call.”

“You believe she might try to hurt herself?”

“I don’t think so. Not when she’s so set on finding Bonnie. But she was firing all kinds of orders at me and wouldn’t answer questions. Then she just hung up.”

“What orders?”

“Not to come home. Not to pay any attention to the afternoon papers or anything else. To stay with the pastor and not go with anyone I don’t know. Don’t you think that’s peculiar?”

“Yes, very peculiar.” His heart was pounding, and all he wanted to do was to get off this damn phone. “But I’m sure she has a reason for everything she said. She’ll be fine.” God, he hoped he was telling the truth. “And it’s probably best to do exactly what she told you.”

“Well, I did promise her. But I thought that maybe you knew more, and I could find out what Eve was talking about. I know how much Eve trusts you.”

That was more than he knew, Joe thought grimly. “No, she didn’t confide in me. I have go now, Mrs. Duncan. I’m sure Eve will be fine. If you have any other concerns, just call me.”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind me phoning you. I do feel better after talking to you. Sharing always helps, doesn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer but hung up.

Sandra’s sharing didn’t make him feel better, Joe thought as he jumped to his feet. It was scaring him to death.

He had to get his hands on the afternoon paper. There was a machine downstairs.

Suicide? Yesterday had been a nightmare for her, and he’d known she was coming closer to accepting that her daughter was dead.

But she had been stronger than he had ever seen her last night before he had left her.

Yet she had pushed him away, and he hadn’t been able to persuade her otherwise. She would know that he wouldn’t let her harm herself.

He didn’t wait for the elevator, but ran down the stairs. The newsboy was cutting the cord on the pile of newspapers that had just been delivered. Joe snatched up the top newspaper.

Son of a bitch.

“What the hell is she doing?” Slindak had come up behind him. His expression was tense as he grabbed another newspaper. “The captain just called me from a meeting at the mayor’s office. He wants to know if we had anything to do with this. Did we?”

“Hell, no.”

There was a photo of Eve on the front page. She looked sober, but her chin was lifted defiantly. That gesture was the theme for the entire story below the photo.

The story was written by Brian McVey.

“I’m going to murder him,” Joe muttered as his gaze scanned the interview.

It led off with an emotional introduction to Eve Duncan, who had lost her child. Then it went to the Q&A directly following.

Q. “You’ve heard about the death of Janey Bristol. Do you believe that your daughter was taken by the same killer?”A. “It’s possible. The man who killed Janey Bristol was obviously a coward who only has the nerve to prey on children. Adult interaction obviously terrifies him. He was so stupid he didn’t even hide the child’s body but left it in that cave to be discovered.”Q. “Stupid? He’s allegedly killed at least nine children without being apprehended.”A. “Children. He’s a moron who is only capable of attacking and overcoming little children like Janey. That’s why he concentrates only on them. It takes logic and intelligence to attack adults. Someone told me that killers like him are into power. Since he’d be defeated by anyone other than a five-year-old, he’ll probably continue to kill helpless children. He won’t attempt to attack anyone who might challenge him.”

The article continued for another two columns, but it was all in the same insulting vein.

Slindak gave a low whistle. “Ugly. She couldn’t be more insulting. Is she trying to get herself killed?”

“Don’t ask me,” he said through his teeth. “She didn’t consult me about this insanity.”

“And I thought you were so close,” Slindak murmured.

“Not now,” Joe said curtly. “I’m very near to blowing, Slindak.”

“I can see that.” He added, “But I told you that there was the danger of not being able to control her. Now she’s going to cause us a hell of—”

“I know what she’s doing.” He strode over to the lobby telephone booth. “And she would have done this if I’d never shown up here in Atlanta. She’d have found a way to reach out to the bastard.”

“Reach out? She bludgeoned him. Are you calling her?”

He was trying. But she wasn’t picking up on her home phone. She could be there, but not answering. He hung up. “I’m going to her place and talk to her.”

“You may have to stand in line. She could have made Zeus mad enough to want to have his own discussion with her.” Slindak added, “The captain isn’t going to be happy if Eve Duncan ends up in a cave with her skull on a shelf. We’re getting enough heat without that maniac expanding his chosen field.”