She shied away from even thinking about Luke taken from her in that most final way. Yet she’d had to face that possibility for the entire nine years of Luke’s captivity. It was clever of Gallo to bring the comparison with Luke into her rejection of the concept of the spirit Bonnie. “I don’t know what I’d do.” No, that wasn’t honest. “I can’t imagine a situation like that, but if it existed, I’d never shut Luke away from me even if it meant being locked up in the booby hatch.”

“The defense rests.”

“But the situation doesn’t exist, and what you and Eve are experiencing could be a hallucinogenic product of the emotional trauma that you’ve both suffered. Understandable, but with no basis in reality.”

“That sounds very slick,” Gallo said. “And not at all in keeping with what I’ve learned about you.”

“No, I’m not slick.” She wearily shook her head. “The opposite. I’m just trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, and I’m coming up short.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He pulled Jacobs’s Rolodex out of his jacket pocket. “We’ll try to put this puzzle together instead.”

She came toward him and watched as he flipped the pages of the Rolodex. “Anything?”

“Nate Queen’s address and phone. Several officers’ names who probably worked at Army Intelligence.” He flipped to the T. “No travel agency. I was hoping to save some time, but no luck. Evidently, he makes his own travel arrangements.” He flipped to C. He gave a low whistle. “An entire list of casinos.” His finger ran down the list. “Las Vegas, San Juan, Lima, Rio, New Orleans, Mobile, Rome, St. Louis, Monte Carlo…” He flipped the page. “And another entire page. Jacobs evidently traveled the world to satisfy his addiction.”

“Too many choices. No indication where he might have gone? No preferences?”

Gallo shook his head, still flipping pages. He reached a list of letters with telephone numbers beside them. “M. S. J. N. It seems that he didn’t want to be careless with these particular names.” He handed her the Rolodex. “Why don’t you give these numbers to Venable and see what he can come up with.”

She nodded and started dialing her phone. “No H for Humphrey.”

“Surprise. Surprise.” There was a knock on the door, and he stood up and moved to answer it. “That should be our food.” He checked the security view before opening the door. “I can use that coffee…”

Two hours later, Venable called back, and Catherine scribbled down the information.

She hung up and turned to Gallo. “He couldn’t trace the S, but they were able to pull up info on the others. Juan Martinez, hit man for the San Juan Mafia, Edward Nixon, no gang association but suspect in three murders in the U.S. and two in London, Randy Jason, former Army Ranger now suspected of two killings for hire in Jacksonville, Florida.”

“Martinez is Hispanic?”

She nodded. “And the name Humphrey doesn’t sound in the least Hispanic. It would catch attention and be remembered if Martinez didn’t look the part. So the gray Mercedes is probably Jason or Nixon.”

“Unless Jacobs found another errand boy.” Gallo went to the window again. “Still no Mercedes. Maybe he’s not ready to move yet.” He turned to face her. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep. I’ll stand watch.”

“We’ll take turns. Three hours. Leave the connecting door open.” She sat down on the bed. “My internal clock is pretty good. Will you need me to wake you?”

“I believe I can manage.” His lips turned up at the corners as he turned out the light and headed toward the door. “I can always use my phone alarm. But if I fall down on the job, by all means shake me.”

“And then you’d probably grab me and break my neck.” She pulled the sheet over her and closed her eyes. “I’ll be careful…”

CHAPTER

15

GALLO CROSSED TO THE CONNECTING door and looked at Catherine curled up under the covers like a cat.

She was sleeping hard, having gone to sleep within five minutes of the time that she had pulled the sheet over her two hours ago. Her breathing was light and steady, and her sleep was deep and sound. Yet he’d bet that if she sensed anything that was unexpected, she’d be awake in a heartbeat.

As he would be, Gallo thought. Her CIA training and his years in the Rangers had given them both a military mind-set that would probably remain with them the rest of their lives. Now it was strange thinking of Catherine as a soldier. Her competence was superlative, beyond question; but he could no longer think of her as the hunter who had stalked him through the forest.

He was too aware of her as a woman.

Shit, aware? Understatement.

He had trouble looking at her and not remembering her naked, wet, and shimmering in the sunlight. When she had come out of the water, there had been drops of water on her breasts and nipples, and he had wanted to bend down and lick them, make them taut and ready. Then move between her legs and put his hands—

Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about that moment.

And this moment, too.

She was lying there helpless, asleep, and there was a catlike grace about her. But like a cat, he could imagine her moving beneath him, fierce, sensual, springing forward and taking what she wanted.

As she had wanted to do at the lake. Dammit, she had wanted him as much as he had wanted her.

Stop. Block it as he had done since they had started in search of Jacobs. So what if he wanted her more than any woman he’d wanted in years? Screwing her wouldn’t be good for either one of them.

Wouldn’t be good? What was he thinking? It would be fantastic.

Maybe in the short term, but she didn’t deserve any more complications. God knows, he was too scarred to have a decent relationship with any woman. He had come close to almost destroying Eve years ago.

And Bonnie?

But Catherine had said he hadn’t destroyed Bonnie.

He closed his eyes as the pain washed over him. God, he hoped Catherine was right, that he hadn’t accepted what she had said because he wanted it to be so. But for that reason alone, he should be thinking of Catherine with gratitude and not as a sexual object.

Not likely. He was too damn selfish, and he wanted her too much.

But he could perhaps put off moving to satisfy that selfishness for a little while.

Keep busy. Find Jacobs.

His lids flipped open, and he turned away from the door and moved toward the window in his room.

Let that Mercedes be there.

He pulled back the drape. No Mercedes in the lot, dammit. Where the hell was the—

But he caught a glimpse of silver out of the corner of his eye.

Around the side of the hotel, in the far parking lot. He took his binoculars out of his suitcase. Be sure.

A shadowy figure at the wheel. Light shirt, dark hair, brawny shoulders. No reason for anyone to be sitting in the parking lot at one in the morning.

Jason or Nixon?

It didn’t matter.

He let the drapes fall back, turned, and glided silently toward the door to the hall.

Prey.

*   *   *

CATHERINE WOKE with a start.

Darkness. Silence. Something was wrong.

No Gallo.

She swung her feet to the floor and jumped out of bed.

She ran into his bedroom. She hadn’t expected him to be there. But his suitcase was open and on the bed. Binoculars on the table by the window.

She grabbed them and thrust the drapes aside.

“Damn you, Gallo.” She lifted the glasses and scanned the parking lot. Nothing.

No, to the far side …

She threw the binoculars down, ran back to her room, and slipped on her shoes.

Then she was running out of the room. No time for the elevator. She took the steps two at a time as she ran down to the lobby and out onto the parking lot.