“Joe?”

“We can ask him. He had a different angle than I did when he got off the shot. He might have seen his face.”

“I hope he did. I had a full view of his features for just an instant or two. It would be good if I had another witness to corroborate my take on him. Gallo was in the bayou, close enough to throw that knife. He probably had a good chance to see him,” Catherine said. “You’ve been trained in police sketching as part of your training, Eve. Can we try to get a recognizable sketch of this guy?”

She nodded. “Since you think that fingerprints aren’t very likely, it would be one of our only options. But it had better be soon. Memory fades in an amazingly short time.”

“I’ve been trained in memory retention for debriefing situations,” Catherine said. “I’ll concentrate and get a picture that will hopefully stay with me.”

“Anything remarkable about him?”

A tan face, pulled tight by the hood of the wet suit. Bushy dark brows flecked with gray. Remarkable? There was something unusual, but it was eluding her at the moment. “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe it will come to me…”

The fog was growing thicker again, she noticed. Gallo wouldn’t be able to see anything. Why didn’t he give up? She hadn’t been concerned before about Gallo, but now she was beginning to feel uneasy. There was no reason for it. It was probably caused by all of Eve’s talk about scrolls and Bonnie, and that other stuff that was pure mysticism.

But she wished Gallo would come back.

*   *   *

HE SHOULD TURN BACK, Gallo thought as he paused to listen for the hundredth time. He’d been out here for at least ninety minutes, and it had been a futile effort.

How had he gotten away?

He knew the answer.

He was sharp and experienced as he’d always been, and never without an emergency escape plan.

Give it up and go back to shore.

Not yet. He would give it a little longer.

Wait. He heard something.

A motorboat!

He turned in the water and swam in the direction from which he’d heard the sound of the motor.

The second line of defense for the escape plan.

Get to him before he got away.

If he didn’t catch him now, the hunt would go on.

And it would lead Gallo straight to hell.

*   *   *

“IS CATHERINE OKAY?” Joe asked, when Eve picked up his call.

“Yes, she came back to the shore not long after you left. But Gallo is still out in the bayou.”

“I’m not worried about Gallo. I just wanted to be sure that Catherine hadn’t been hurt.”

“I take it you didn’t see him?”

“I think we’ve lost him. I’ve been going up and down this road for hours, with no sign of him. But a while ago, I heard the sound of a motorboat in one of the inlets. He might have had a boat stashed there.”

“It’s possible.” She glanced at the truck. “But it would seem like overkill. If he followed her from the casino, it would take some fast scrambling to set up a backup like that.”

“Or someone very practiced in a maneuver like this. I’m on my way back. I should see you in about ten minutes.” He hung up.

She turned to Catherine. “He thinks that we’ve lost him. Maybe a motorboat in the inlet.”

“It took Joe long enough to give up searching,” Catherine said. “I notice you didn’t discuss your theory about the ever-unfurling scroll with him. You could have saved him some time.” Then she made a face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. I just have problems with the idea of fate dictating our lives. I believe we mold our own lives, our own fates, and if we work hard enough, we can make a success of things. I thought you believed that, too.”

“I do,” Eve said. “But there appear to be some things that are out of our control. I found that out years ago, when I lost Bonnie. After that, I discovered damage control and to work with what I was given.”

“A ghost?”

Eve slowly nodded. “I don’t expect you to accept the idea. It took me years to come to terms with it.”

“Eve…” Catherine reached out and took her hand. “I admire you, I trust you, I believe in you. I just can’t believe in this particular.”

“You didn’t believe that Gallo was innocent of Bonnie’s death at first. But now you’re willing to fight for him.” She smiled. “And that’s a good sign for an eventual understanding.”

“Don’t count on it. We’ll just agree to disagree. I can’t promise that I’ll ever—” She broke off and whirled toward the bayou. “I heard something.”

Eve did, too. And the next moment, she saw Gallo stand up in the shallow water and wade toward the bank. She felt a rush of relief. He looked tired and discouraged, but he wasn’t hurt.

“No sign of him?” she asked as he levered himself out of the water.

“No. He got away.”

“Joe said he heard a motorboat in the inlet,” Catherine said. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Where’s Quinn?”

“He’ll be here in a few minutes. He just called.”

“Good, I want to get back to the house.”

“You said you heard the motorboat. Did you see him?”

“Yes, but he was halfway across the bayou, then he was lost in the fog.” He glanced at the truck. “Have you searched it?”

Catherine shook her head. “No, I called Venable, and he’s going to arrange to get a forensic detail out here. Though I don’t know what our chances are of getting prints.”

“Nil,” he said flatly. “Maybe trace evidence.”

“You seem very certain,” Eve said.

“Do I?” He got to his feet. “As certain as I can be under the circumstances. I’d judge he wouldn’t leave a trail.”

“We may not be able to ID him from prints, but Catherine saw him. I may be able to do a sketch from her description. Could you help? Did you get a good look at his face?”

“No, sorry. You think there’s a good possibility that you’ll be able to get a close enough resemblance?” He glanced at Catherine. “You’ll remember him?”

“I’ll remember him,” she said quietly.

He looked away from her face, and his gaze traveled up and down her body. “You look almost dry.”

She shrugged. “I took my clothes off and wrung them out. You should do the same.”

He shook his head. “I’ll change when I get back to the house.” He turned his head toward the road. “I think I hear Quinn.”

Eve nodded as the car came around the bend of the road. “That’s Joe.” She watched Joe park on the side of the road and called to him as he walked down the slope toward the bank. “Gallo heard the motorboat, too, Joe, but it was moving out of sight when he got to the inlet.”

“That’s convenient.”

Gallo stiffened. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“He saved Catherine’s life, Joe,” Eve said quietly. “I think we can do without antagonism and accusations.”

“Yes, he saved her life.” Joe’s gaze met Gallo’s. “But why did he wait until he had to target the hand instead of another part of the body? That was an incredibly difficult throw. If he’d missed, it could have been all over for Catherine.”

“Perhaps he’d just arrived on the scene,” Catherine said. “Gallo wouldn’t have deliberately chosen to—”

“Gallo was standing in the water watching his approach,” Joe said flatly. “I saw him while I was moving in the brush to take my shot. He was watching, not moving, not lifting his knife. He acted as if he were frozen.”

“I took him out,” Gallo said.

“Barely,” Joe said. “A knife between the shoulder blades would have been a hell of a lot more efficient.”

“And would have run the risk of leaving him dead and unable to be questioned. Ask Eve how she would feel about that.”

“You’re saying that you deliberately risked Catherine on the altar of leaving that killer alive to tell us what we need to know.” Joe shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think you had another agenda.”

“And that would be?”

“I don’t know yet.” He paused. “Of course, you could have been going to let Catherine be killed, but when you saw me on the bank, you decided you had to make a token effort.”