“We lost him for the moment. He had a motorboat parked beneath the trees. I sent an all-points bulletin out. We may still pick him up.” He looked down at Toby. “How is he?”
“We'll have to get him to a vet right away but I think he'll be fine.”
He turned back to Jane. “Which way did Trevor go?”
She hesitated. She hadn't realized it would be this difficult to lie to Joe. “North.”
She felt Eve's startled gaze on her face. That's right, she must have seen Trevor take off toward the drainage pipe. She looked Eve in the eye. “North,” she repeated.
She waited.
Eve was silent a moment and then looked down at Toby. “I'll need a couple men to lift Toby on a stretcher and get him to a vet.”
Jane felt relieved and guilty at the same time. It was bad enough to lie to someone she loved, but now she had pulled Eve into the deception.
“I'll get Mac to arrange it.” Joe turned away. “I'm going to be busy.” He strode toward the policemen standing at the edge of the glade.
“Thank you,” Jane whispered.
“Don't thank me.” Eve gave her a cool glance. “I did it because I agreed with you and I didn't want to put Joe on the spot by asking him to go along with a lie.” She looked over her shoulder at Joe and then smiled. “And the point may not even be applicable. He's splitting up the force and sending some of them south. You should have known Joe was too sharp not to read you. We may be having to do some explaining.”
Jane sighed resignedly, her gaze on Joe, who was gesturing with his usual dynamic forcefulness toward the south. “Well, I did my best. Trevor's on his own.”
“I'm sure he doesn't expect protection from anyone.”
“I didn't do it for him, I did it for me. I may need him.”
“Don't talk like that. I know you're upset about Toby but you leave Aldo to Joe and the department. You're out of this, Jane.”
“Tell that to Aldo. He doesn't think I'm out of it.” She gently stroked Toby's head. “And I know I'm not. I just have to wait until the next time comes around.”
“Next time?”
“He'll come back. He'll always come back. Until one of us is dead.”
“How can you know that? This attempt may have discouraged him.”
Why am I so positive? Jane wondered. The words had come from her lips and mind with absolute certainty.
The circle. Inescapable, always there, always repeating.
But she couldn't say that to Eve. Why should she understand when Jane couldn't? “A hunch.” That was as true as any other explanation. She changed the subject. “I saw his face. Not clearly, and just for an instant. But I'll be able to give Joe a sketch.”
“Good. But he would rather have had Trevor.” Eve raised her head. “Here comes Mac with the stretcher for Toby. I'll be glad to get both of you home.”
He was bleeding.
Aldo could feel the blood running down his shoulder, but he couldn't stop to tend it. He had to reach the bank where he'd hidden his car and get out of here before Quinn chased him down. It didn't hurt anyway. He was too full of rage and frustration to feel pain.
The bitch. She had sunk her fangs in him and then lived to see him run like a fox from the hounds. He'd not even been able to punish her by killing the dog.
Trevor's fault.
Trevor barging in and interfering. Trevor stepping in front of Cira and keeping him from punishing the whore.
Whore. Yes, that's what she was. She'd managed to ply her wiles on Trevor and he was now as much her slave as all the others. Why else would Trevor have tried to save the dog when he could have taken his shot at Aldo?
Bitch. Whore. She was probably laughing at him.
Not for long, Cira. I almost had you. You're not such a difficult target.
Next time.
Move!” Trevor said to Bartlett as he jumped into the car. “Get out of here.”
“I take it we're being chased?” Bartlett stomped on the accelerator as he moved onto the freeway. “Aldo?”
“Quinn and the ATLPD.” Trevor glanced at the side mirror. “No one yet,” he murmured. “Maybe she did toss him a red herring.”
“The girl?”
Trevor nodded. “I wasn't sure. She's not predictable. She could just as well have told me to go this way and then had a covey of police cars waiting for me.”
“Maybe she's grateful to you for saving the pooch.”
He grinned. “And maybe she's mad as hell and not going to take Aldo's crap anymore. That's more likely.”
“Is that what she told you?”
“More or less.”
No, that was exactly what she had told him. Every glance, every angry word had been layered with determination. “She was a little pissed about her dog.”
“I can't blame her,” Bartlett said. “Dreadful fellow, Aldo.”
“You're a master of understatement.”
“And apparently considerably more competent than you. You were so sure you'd get him this time.” He gave him a sly glance. “But don't be upset. Every man meets his Waterloo.”
“Shut up.” He closed his eyes. “Just get me out of here. I need to sleep and then do some thinking. One step forward, two steps back. It's been a hell of a night.”
“All may not be lost. Quinn may have caught Aldo.”
“Then we'll know about it when we see the news tomorrow. Until then we'll assume the bastard got away.”
“We're going to the lodge?”
“It's as safe as anywhere. Safer than staying here in town. Quinn is bound to have put out an APB on me.”
“No doubt. It would be much smarter to move on.”
“I can't move on. Aldo isn't going to budge from the area as long as Jane MacGuire is here.” His lips tightened grimly. “And that means I have to dig in, too.”
No sign of either of them,” Christy said. “We've scoured every acre of your property and the APB is coming up zero so far.”
“Dammit.”
“It's only been two days. How's Jane doing?”
“Cool as a cucumber.”
“Toby?”
“He had to have stitches, but he'll be fine. He's fine now. He's lying on his dog bed in Jane's room getting belly rubs and eating turkey.”
“Has Jane finished the sketch of Aldo yet?”
“I'll go in and ask her. She's been working on it long enough.”
“If she only saw him in poor light, it must be difficult to remember every feature.”
“Everything about this is difficult. Jane has a memory that would make an elephant look bad.”
“You think she's stalling?”
“I can't figure out why she'd stall. But what do I know? She's done some things lately that have boggled my mind. And don't tell me about teenagers again. 'Bye, Christy.” He pressed the disconnect.
“I'm not stalling,” Jane said from behind him.
He turned to see her standing in the doorway with the sketchbook in her hand. “It took you a hell of a long time,” he said curtly.
She crossed the porch and sat down beside him on the top step. “I had to be careful. It was funny. . . . When I was drawing him, it was too clear. I saw every feature as if he were standing before me. But I'd only seen him for a few seconds and I didn't see how I could be that sure.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I was afraid that I could get it wrong. So I let myself have plenty of time for second guesses.”
“And you're sure now?”
She flipped open the sketchbook. “Aldo.”
A square face, high forehead and a roman nose. His hair was long but slightly receding. His eyes were deep-set and dark and were glaring out of the sketch with an expression of boundless animosity.
“I know you prefer for the portrayals to be expressionless because no one goes around looking like Jack the Ripper. I tried. I really tried. I redid the sketch three times, but it kept coming out the same. I think it's because I know that whenever we're together, he's going to look like this.”