the door closed behind them. "It may be fate, Jane."
"I doubt it," Jane said dryly. "I believe in fate, but this was Joe in tornado mode. Why don't you call Montalvo to set up that meeting for tomorrow? I think that would be more beneficial than all this chitchat."
"You're right. Montalvo will want to know. Will you lock me out if I step outside in the hall to phone him?"
"Privacy?" She raised her brows. "From me? When I'm the love of your life?" He flinched. "Stung." He opened the door. "I'll make my call and then plead humbly to be permitted back in. You'll, of course, be impressed by my sincerity and—"
"Bullshit." She closed the door firmly behind him.
He was still smiling as he dialed Montalvo.
"Quinn is here. He wants you to come to the hotel at eight tomorrow morning."
"Good. I'll be there. I'm going back to see Cassidy again. I think he's been talking to his superiors about dropping the case."
"Are you going to be able to persuade him to stay?"
"I think I'll have to call Venable and see what he can do. Cassidy's right, technically the FBI isn't needed here."
"Then why don't you let him go back to St. Louis? We'd have much more fun without them getting in our way." He paused. "You want them here because Quinn does not?"
"Not entirely. The picture is much bigger. Is everything well there?"
"No sign of any trouble. Evidently Quinn also thought Eve should have protection. I was stopped in the hall by a deputy because I was a suspicious character."
"Obviously a man of perception."
"There's no need for me to be here. Why don't I meet you at—"
"No."
"Oh, very well. Enjoy yourself in the woods. I suppose I'll have to go have a fine dinner and be entertained by Jane MacGuire. You didn't tell me what a beautiful woman she is."
"I haven't met her yet."
"She's like Eve. Guarded. But you don't see it until you study her for a while. And she's very protective of Eve. She doesn't make a big deal of it, but it's always there."
"Eve adopted her when she was ten. It was a number of years after she lost her daughter, Bonnie. Jane was a street kid and probably as tough as you are, Miguel."
"I knew we were meant for each other. But she doesn't see it. She has other fish to fry." He heard the service elevator open. "Our dinner has arrived. I'll think of you in that damp hellhole of a bog while I drink fine wine and eat like a king. Good night, Colonel."
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO you, Montalvo," Venable said curtly. "I've just spent fifteen minutes talking to the director of the FBI, who wants to know what the hell his agents are doing in those woods when evidently half the population of Illinois is already stumbling around there. You said they were needed."
Evidently Cassidy hadn't wasted any time, Montalvo thought. "What's it going to take to get them to stay?"
"A valid reason. Proof that the local police can't do the job. Since it's a simple search and pursuit, you're going to get an argument."
"What about bringing up the possibility of the child killing? The investigation of Bobby Joe Windlaw's disappearance might require sophisticated techniques and expertise."
"When even the sheriff's department won't commit to whether they're certain the boy wasn't accidentally drowned? Sorry, I'd like to help Eve Duncan, but there's no—"
"I'll give you the location of Nortano's weapons cache near Bogotá. You've been looking for it for the last four years."
There was silence at the other end of the connection. "You son of a bitch."
"That little boy was reported missing after Kistle showed up in Bloomburg."
"I know. I know. Bobby Joe Windlaw," Venable said. "No body. Cassidy says that everyone thought he drowned in the river. His shirt and shoes were found on the riverbank."
"Kistle shows up. The little boy disappears. I don't believe in coincidences."
"No body," Venable repeated. "Find the boy's body and then come back to me."
"No, you do it and come back to me. I'm not the one who wants Nortano's weapons." Venable
"I doubt it," Jane said dryly. "I believe in fate, but this was Joe in tornado mode. Why don't you call Montalvo to set up that meeting for tomorrow? I think that would be more beneficial than all this chitchat."
"You're right. Montalvo will want to know. Will you lock me out if I step outside in the hall to phone him?"
"Privacy?" She raised her brows. "From me? When I'm the love of your life?" He flinched. "Stung." He opened the door. "I'll make my call and then plead humbly to be permitted back in. You'll, of course, be impressed by my sincerity and—"
"Bullshit." She closed the door firmly behind him.
He was still smiling as he dialed Montalvo.
"Quinn is here. He wants you to come to the hotel at eight tomorrow morning."
"Good. I'll be there. I'm going back to see Cassidy again. I think he's been talking to his superiors about dropping the case."
"Are you going to be able to persuade him to stay?"
"I think I'll have to call Venable and see what he can do. Cassidy's right, technically the FBI isn't needed here."
"Then why don't you let him go back to St. Louis? We'd have much more fun without them getting in our way." He paused. "You want them here because Quinn does not?"
"Not entirely. The picture is much bigger. Is everything well there?"
"No sign of any trouble. Evidently Quinn also thought Eve should have protection. I was stopped in the hall by a deputy because I was a suspicious character."
"Obviously a man of perception."
"There's no need for me to be here. Why don't I meet you at—"
"No."
"Oh, very well. Enjoy yourself in the woods. I suppose I'll have to go have a fine dinner and be entertained by Jane MacGuire. You didn't tell me what a beautiful woman she is."
"I haven't met her yet."
"She's like Eve. Guarded. But you don't see it until you study her for a while. And she's very protective of Eve. She doesn't make a big deal of it, but it's always there."
"Eve adopted her when she was ten. It was a number of years after she lost her daughter, Bonnie. Jane was a street kid and probably as tough as you are, Miguel."
"I knew we were meant for each other. But she doesn't see it. She has other fish to fry." He heard the service elevator open. "Our dinner has arrived. I'll think of you in that damp hellhole of a bog while I drink fine wine and eat like a king. Good night, Colonel."
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO you, Montalvo," Venable said curtly. "I've just spent fifteen minutes talking to the director of the FBI, who wants to know what the hell his agents are doing in those woods when evidently half the population of Illinois is already stumbling around there. You said they were needed."
Evidently Cassidy hadn't wasted any time, Montalvo thought. "What's it going to take to get them to stay?"
"A valid reason. Proof that the local police can't do the job. Since it's a simple search and pursuit, you're going to get an argument."
"What about bringing up the possibility of the child killing? The investigation of Bobby Joe Windlaw's disappearance might require sophisticated techniques and expertise."
"When even the sheriff's department won't commit to whether they're certain the boy wasn't accidentally drowned? Sorry, I'd like to help Eve Duncan, but there's no—"
"I'll give you the location of Nortano's weapons cache near Bogotá. You've been looking for it for the last four years."
There was silence at the other end of the connection. "You son of a bitch."
"That little boy was reported missing after Kistle showed up in Bloomburg."
"I know. I know. Bobby Joe Windlaw," Venable said. "No body. Cassidy says that everyone thought he drowned in the river. His shirt and shoes were found on the riverbank."
"Kistle shows up. The little boy disappears. I don't believe in coincidences."
"No body," Venable repeated. "Find the boy's body and then come back to me."
"No, you do it and come back to me. I'm not the one who wants Nortano's weapons." Venable
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