“Any more questions?” Bill was smiling again. “Last chance.”
“One more.” She met his gaze, bracing herself. “Were you in Atlanta with John that month before my daughter was taken?”
He shook his head. “I was still in a hospital in Tokyo. They practically had to rebuild my leg. I didn’t hook up with him until almost a year later.”
“But you knew about her?”
“No, John never spoke about her or you until later. I never even knew he had a kid. The first I heard of your Bonnie was years later, when he was pressuring Queen to keep a dossier on you.”
“You weren’t curious?”
“John sets limits, and I don’t step across the line. You might follow my example.”
Her lips twisted. “Or he might go berserk?”
He turned away. “It hasn’t happened for a long time. That doesn’t mean it can’t happen.” He was moving down the hall. “The dining room is back the way we came and to the right. John has a great cook he hired away from a casino in Las Vegas. Those clothes on the bed are a loan from her. You’re a little thinner than she is, but they should come close.”
Eve glanced at the worn jeans and oversized black sweatshirt with MIRAGE CASINO emblazoned in white. “They should be okay. Thank her for me.”
“Thank her yourself. Judy’s not shy about making her presence known. But she makes terrific Mexican fajitas.” He slanted her a smile. “And she’s very loyal to John, too.”
“Did he break her out of prison, too? I thought you said he hired her from a casino.”
“He did. But there are all kinds of prisons, aren’t there? She had a three-year-old and an abusive husband. John sent the husband packing and brought Judy and the kid here where she couldn’t be bothered.”
Eve stood in the doorway and watched him disappear down the hall. Bill Hanks had been a treasure trove of information, but he had not alleviated her uneasiness. John Gallo might have become a man who deserved gratitude and loyalty in some quarters, but he was also an assassin and a man prone to violent fits of passion. She was still feeling the chill that had shaken her when Hanks had told her of those berserker episodes.
Get over it. She had told Gallo she would not be afraid of him. She had to work her way through any fear and get to the truth.
She turned, closed the door, and glanced around her. Comfortable, even elegant room, oak furniture, black watch plaid coverlet on the king bed, a bouquet of intricate brown twigs in a gold vase on the carved chest. The décor had Western elements, but it was definitely not a designer room. It appeared too strong, too individual. She glanced at the plaid coverlet on the bed.
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—”