"Why should I believe you? You could be making up a fairy story."

"You do believe me."

She didn't want to believe him. She didn't want to feel sympathy or empathy for him. "Or you could be telling me part of the truth and twisting it to suit yourself. You're a criminal yourself. Why should I believe you want to destroy Diaz's operation? You could be throwing in that part of the story to convince me that what I'm doing is basically ethical."

"It's the truth." His voice vibrated with force, his gaze held her own. "Every word I've spoken. Yes, I've tried to manipulate you but only to get you here. I knew I'd have to lay the cards on the table."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't cheat you. I felt your pain." He added quietly, "Because it was the same as mine. I loved my wife, Eve. Diaz killed her and then tossed her away like a piece of garbage. During those years when she was lost, I'd wake up from nightmares about trying to find her and never being able to do it."

Christ, she could feel tears sting her eyes. She had known that agony. It never went away no matter how much time passed. She stood up. "I have to think about this. I can't tell you-I have to think about it."

"Just do the reconstruction. I'll have you on your way back home a few hours later. You'll be out of it."

"I have to think about it," she repeated as she moved toward the door. "Dammit, you're asking me to trust you and I'd be a fool to do it."

"You might be a fool to risk doing the job but not to trust me."

She glanced back at him and for the first time she thought she glimpsed the emotions beneath that smooth facade. The haunted pain and hollow loneliness…

I looked at you and saw myself.

She tore her eyes away and almost ran out of the room.

He must be a magician to be able to play on her emotions like this. Maybe his wife was one of the lost ones but she mustn't identify her with Bonnie. She might not even be in that grave. It might be a false lead.

And how many false paths had she gone down in hopes of finding her daughter? How many hopes had been crushed?

She was identifying again. Block it out. Think calmly and logically. She shouldn't let emotion influence her decision.

But, dear God, she was very much afraid she was going to do it.

She didn't go down to dinner that night and at seven-thirty that evening Miguel came to the door with a tray.

"You shouldn't have bothered. I'm not hungry."

"It's no bother." Miguel put the tray down on the low chest by the door. "It's just a sandwich and a salad. And it's my pleasure. Turnabout. You're going to help the Colonel. I'll help you."

"I didn't tell Montalvo that I'd help him. Everything's… changed."

He nodded. "And you're very upset about it. He knew you would be. Trust him. He'll try to keep you safe."

"'Try'? That's a little too uncertain for me." She sat down at the table and lifted the cover. "But you appear to trust him."

"Of course I do."

"Why?"

"Because he does what he says he's going to do. And he's always there when I need him." He poured her coffee. "He saved my life, you know."

"I didn't know. I don't know anything about any of you."

"That's right." He smiled. "But you'll learn more if you stay and help the Colonel."

And she needed to know more. She'd spent the afternoon torn between skepticism and hope. "How did he save your life? You're very young to be involved with a man like Montalvo."

He grinned. "That's what he says. He keeps trying to send me away. He tells me I need to go to school and learn to better myself. I'm pretty good just as I am. I'm a damn good soldier."

"Then join the army. Don't stay with a criminal. If he saved your life, he probably put it in danger to begin with."

He shook his head. "No, he killed my father."

She gazed at him in shock. "What?"

"My father was going to kill me. He'd already killed my mother. I was hiding in the forest and he was tracking me down. I was only thirteen. I wouldn't have been able to hide from him for long."

"Jesus, why would he do that?"

"The drugs. He distributed Diaz's drugs to the farmers as part of their payment for growing. He was a user too. When he was on the drugs, he'd beat my mother and one day he killed her. If I'd had a gun, I would have shot him. I took the drugs he had in the house and threw them down the well. Then I took off into the forest. He shot me before I could get very far. In the leg. I kept crawling but he caught up with me." His lips tightened. "I remember him standing over me and aiming his gun at my head to finish me off."

"And Montalvo shot him instead?"

"Yes. He'd come looking for my father and followed him into the forest. He thought he might be a weak link who could tell him something about the death of his wife." He smiled. "Was I not lucky? He killed the son of a bitch."

She shouldn't have felt that sense of shock at his words. The attitude was probably healthy. Fathers and mothers were only as sacred as their actions toward their children. She had run across many abusers in her life. She was glad that Miguel had survived and apparently managed to not be permanently scarred. "You're lucky if you take hold of your life and don't cling to Montalvo."

"He doesn't let me cling. He just gave me a home and a purpose. He says that purpose is important."

And Montalvo's purpose was revenge.

And finding his lost one.

And wasn't that her purpose too?

"I'll go now," Miguel said. "If you need anything, call me. I'll stay close."

"Wait."

He glanced back at her.

"Did Montalvo send you to tell me this?"

"No. He said to bring you supper." His lips indented in a faint smile. "But he's very clever and knows me well. He might have guessed what turn the conversation would take."

"I'd bet on it," she said dryly.

"Please finish your sandwich. You need your strength." He opened the door and left the room.

Jesus, another Montalvo in the making, she thought. And Miguel had the same tenacity and determination as his idol, together with an appealing boyishness. She liked the kid.

She finished the last bite of her sandwich. Miguel was right, no matter what path she took she'd need strength and determination to get her through the-

Her cell phone rang.

She tensed as she saw the name on the ID screen.

No, Joe. Not now.

It rang again.

Dammit, she'd told him she wouldn't answer if he called her. Why was he-

It rang again.

She punched the button. "Joe, I can't talk to you."

"The hell you can't. You're doing it."

"To tell you that I'm fine and there's no reason for you to worry."

"How nice of you to offer me that scrap of comfort. You're not fine. Not as long as you're in that compound. And I'm going to worry until I have you out of there. What do you expect?"

She expected exactly what she was getting from Joe. Anger and near-explosive frustration. "I expect you to respect my decision."

"Your decision? He swayed you like a snake charmer. He used Bonnie, dammit."

"Yes."

"Lies, Eve. You know it's lies. You knew you were following a ghost when you came down here. You just couldn't help yourself."

"You're right, I thought he might be playing me when I got on that plane. It didn't matter. I had to take the chance." She paused. "But after I got here I found out that there's a chance he wasn't lying. I have to stay until I can decide if it's worth-"

"No!"

"Don't tell me no. I'm the one who has to decide. I'll call you when I do."

"Don't hang up." He was silent a moment and she could feel him struggling for control. "Galen tells me that I'm blowing this. I can't afford to do that."

"Galen? He's with you?"