She stiffened. "This is what I do. This is what I am. Why are you so angry about it now?"

He didn't speak for a moment. "Because I'm tired. Because sometimes I can't stand to see you in pain. Because the years pass and I think the miracle will happen and it never does."

He was talking about Bonnie. She felt a ripple of shock. She couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken about her daughter. Yet Bonnie was always there, a silent presence. "I'll find her someday."

"A miracle," he repeated. "After all these years that's what it would take." He turned his back on her and moved to the stove. "Go get cleaned up. If I upset you any more, you won't eat and I'll be defeating my purpose."

She studied him. Something was definitely wrong. His motions were jerky and that remark about Bonnie was an instant tip-off. She would have noticed earlier if she hadn't been distracted by both her work and the aftereffects of that call from Montalvo. "I'm not the only one who's upset. What the devil is wrong with you?" She crossed her arms over her chest to keep them from shaking. "And don't tell me that you're just fed up with living here with me. If you don't want to stay with me, no one is forcing you."

"Particularly not you."

"Shut up." She tried to steady her voice. "I don't have any right to ask you to stay. I'm an emotional cripple. As you said, I'm obsessed and I'll probably remain that way for the rest of my life. Sometimes I wonder why you haven't left me before this."

He didn't look at her. "You know why."

"Joe."

"I have my own obsession. Now get your ass in gear. We need to get some food down you." He shot her a glance. "It's okay. I'm over it. It just had to come out."

"Why now?"

"Why not?"

She hesitated, gazing at him. It wasn't over. She could sense the turbulence, the reckless energy whirling below the surface.

"You're down to ten minutes."

She tried to smile. "You used up five telling me what an obsessive wacko I am."

"Takes one to know one." He turned on the oven. "And you're my wacko."

She felt a sudden surge of warmth. He was the only man she'd ever known who could make her flit from emotion to emotion in the space of a heartbeat. She'd been angry, upset, defensive, and yet now she was feeling this powerful surge of affection. She turned away and headed down the hall. "Wackos of the world, unite."

"I only want to unite with one wacko and I fully intend to do it later tonight. After I feed you and stoke up your energy level."

"Promises, promises."

She was still smiling as she stepped into the shower a few minutes later. She could feel a tingle of sexual anticipation and excitement start within her. Jesus, you'd think after all these years with Joe that sex wouldn't be this urgent. Wasn't it supposed to become merely comfortable after a while? Their coming together was just as wild and passionate as that first time. Her body was tensing, readying at the thought.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as the water flowed over her. She'd tell Joe about Montalvo's call over dinner but right now she wanted to relax and forget about everything but Joe…

Joe was taking the garlic bread out of the oven when his cell phone rang.

Soldono.

He was tempted to let his voice mail pick up.

Shit.

He punched the button. "Quinn. Go away, Soldono. I'm not talking to you. We're done."

"If we were done, you wouldn't have answered the phone. Have you talked to her? It's almost nine-thirty, dammit. Time's running out."

"No, and I'm not going to."

"You will. You have a conscience."

"My conscience concerns Eve, Eve's physical safety, and Eve's mental well-being. Period. Bottom line."

"And what does her conscience dictate, Quinn? I've heard Eve Duncan's conscience is a little more encompassing. What would she say?"

"I'll never know. Neither will you, Soldono." He hung up the phone. Keep cool. He'd already let Soldono get under his skin or he wouldn't have answered the phone.

"Who's Soldono?"

He turned to see Eve, wrapped in a terry robe, standing in the doorway. "No one important."

She frowned. "If he weren't important to you, he wouldn't be able to make you this angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Who's Soldono? An officer at the precinct?"

"No." He placed the garlic bread on a plate. "We've got to both eat this to cancel the odor out. Maybe garlic wasn't such a good idea. Of course, it's supposed to keep away vampires."

"Is Soldono a vampire?"

"Drop it, Eve."

"Why?" She sat down at the table. "I've an idea he may be one of the reasons you were on the attack tonight. Who is he?"

He put her bowl of stew in front of her. "CIA. Satisfied?"

"No. Is that all I'm going to get?"

His lips lifted in a sardonic smile. "Soldono says that it's not. But it's all you're going to get now."

Her forehead wrinkled in thought as she remembered something. "When you came into the house, you turned the phone back on. No comment. You just turned it on."

"Jane couldn't get in touch with you."

"But you didn't ask me why I turned it off."

"You were working."

"Joe."

He didn't answer.

"Talk to me. You knew about my call from Montalvo, didn't you?"

"Yes." He poured some coffee. "Why didn't you phone me and tell me about it?"

"I thought it would wait until you got home." She grimaced. "Okay, I didn't want to think about him. It was interfering with Marty. It was just a kind of follow-up call to see if I'd changed my mind. And he didn't exactly issue any firm threats."

"You should have called me. I don't like being shut out."

"Neither do I. What does Soldono want with us?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "He doesn't want us. He wants you."

"What?"

"He wants you to go down to Colombia and do the reconstruction Montalvo is asking." His hand tightened on his cup. "He doesn't give a damn that once you're down there, your chances of getting out alive stink. If knowing the identity of that skull is important to Montalvo, he's not going to want anyone else alive and walking around to share that knowledge."

"You're preaching to the choir. I've no intention of going down there."

"Good. Then we'll forget both Montalvo and Soldono. Eat your stew."

"We won't forget it. Why is the CIA involved with Montalvo? You said he was a crook."

"The CIA sometimes has strange bedfellows."

"I want to know, Joe."

"Okay." His lips tightened. "Soldono called me because he couldn't reach you and he was on the hot seat. Montalvo called you because he expected Soldono or one of his superiors to have already put the screws to you."

"Why would they do that?"

"Soldono had an informant, Pedro Gonzales, in Montalvo's camp. Montalvo found out about him and has been holding him locked up in his stockade. He offered to release Gonzales if Soldono could get you to come."

"And if he couldn't?"

"What do you think happens to traitors?"

"He'd kill him," she whispered.

"He's a dirtball," Joe said harshly. "Even Soldono admitted that Gonzales was every bit as much a criminal as Montalvo. He just wasn't as smart. That's why he was trying to find a way to get him out that wouldn't involve an innocent U.S. citizen."

"He was helping the CIA."

"For money, Eve. For money."

"Yes, but he…" She moistened her lips. "Life is precious. I could save him."

"And get killed yourself."

She rubbed her temple. "I know. I'm just trying to think of a way…How much time do we have?"

"Not enough."

"How much?"

He glanced at his watch. "Twenty-five minutes."

Shock jolted through her. "My God, and you weren't going to tell me?"