Bonnie (29 page)

“I wasn’t entirely alone. There are good people in this world, Danner. I thought you were one of them. You would have helped me if I’d asked, wouldn’t you?”

“You didn’t ask. You didn’t want me. You didn’t want John.”

“Is that why you killed my daughter?” Her hands clenched. “You did kill her, didn’t you? Tell me.”

He didn’t answer. “I thought you were right, that John would want to be free if he came back from Korea. I was glad you didn’t want him to marry you just because you were having his kid. I would have helped you, but I didn’t want you hanging on John, keeping him back.”

Memories of that time were bombarding her. Nights of passion with John Gallo. The first moment she’d seen Bonnie at the hospital. This was becoming incredibly hard.

“I never wanted to hurt John,” she said unevenly. “But I did hurt him by keeping my daughter to myself. I never realized that until later. I was given a special gift, and I wouldn’t share it. Did you realize that I’d hurt him and wanted to strike back? I just don’t understand.”

“I’d never let you hurt John,” Danner said roughly. “I’d never let anyone hurt him.”

She’d struck a nerve. “Yet you’re doing it now. Don’t you know how John feels about what you’re doing? He loves you, and he can’t understand what you’ve become.”

“I know.” Danner’s voice was low and threaded with pain. “But I have to do it. I have to give the child what she wants so that she’ll go away and stop the torment.”

“Bonnie,” Eve said between set teeth. “I’ve told you—” It didn’t matter what he called her. Why argue with him? “You’ve told me yourself that John is probably right behind us. What will you do when he catches up? You may have to kill him to keep the demons away.”

“No, I won’t do that. He won’t catch up. We’re almost there.”

She jumped at the sentence. “Where?”

“Providence.” His lips twisted. “Did you think you were tricking me? It doesn’t matter if you know. Not now.” He turned and started up the trail. “Come along, Eve. By this time tomorrow it will be over.”

Providence. The only Providence she knew was in Rhode Island. Was it a real place they were going or a figment of Danner’s imagination? Or was it a term he was using to describe the situation? The last few minutes should have taught her how unstable he could be. Providence. Truth or fantasy, it was the only clue, the only weapon she had.

If she could find a way of using it.

*   *   *

“WHERE ON EARTH IS HE
taking us?” Father Barnabas gazed at Ben, who was climbing the hill several yards ahead of them. “It seems as if we’ve been going around in circles for the last few hours.”

“We have,” Joe said. “We passed that triangular rock twice.”

The priest shook his head. “Then the boy doesn’t really know where he’s going. Why didn’t you give up and stop him?”

“Because there’s a chance he does know. There was no uncertainty about what he was doing. He took every turn with perfect confidence. I believe there’s a possibility that Danner took this route when he led Ben to his place.” His gaze was fastened on Ben’s back. “He liked the boy, but he wouldn’t entirely trust him. He’d be afraid he could be fooled or manipulated. So he took him on a route that would make anyone with him think he didn’t know where he was going and give up on him.”

“Interesting theory. But how long do we consider it a valid premise?”

“As long as we can. Look at him. He thinks that he knows where he’s going. I’d bet he subconsciously counted every twist and turn that Danner made and is repeating them.” His lips twisted. “Have a little faith, Father.”

“That was unfair. I have faith. But perhaps I’m like Danner and not sure how the boy’s mind works. You seem to be a step ahead of us.”

“I’m guessing.” He only hoped that he was guessing right. Why was he so certain that Ben was the key to finding Eve? Just because that smile reminded him of the sketch of Bonnie? Because he seemed to shine when everything around Joe was in darkness? He should be thinking analytically, not relying on instinct.

Screw it. Instinct was all he had right now.

“It’s just ahead.” Ben was looking over his shoulder at him. “I’m glad we got here before dark. The ground is rough for the last stretch. I fell twice when Ted was leading me up here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but lengthened his stride and disappeared around the curve.

Yes.

The way to the top of the hill was as treacherous as Ben had said. Slippery shale alternating with sandy ground that gave away from beneath their feet. Joe had to stop twice to pull Father Barnabas back on the trail when the shale had thrown him into a skid. The last yards, which should have taken a few minutes, stretched into almost twenty.

The sun was going down in a blaze of scarlet when they reached the top of the summit.

Ben was looking out at the hills and ridges surrounding them. “Beautiful.” The sun was bathing his face with a soft glow. “Isn’t it beautiful? Ted couldn’t see it. I don’t know why. I tried to tell him how it made me feel. But Ted said it was a trap, and demons lurked everywhere.”

“Did you believe him?” Joe asked quietly.

“The first night he brought me here. It scared me. But then I found out that he was wrong.”

“How did you do that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just woke up in the morning and looked out at the ridge and knew there was nothing bad out there.”

“The ridge?”

Ben pointed to the ridge to the far north. “I think that’s where Ted went when he left me. He said I had to stay here and not follow him, or the demons would get me.”

A surge of excitement electrified Joe. He went to the edge of the cliff and looked out at the ridge. Screw the demons. I’ve got you, Danner. “He was only gone one night?”

“The first night. After that, sometimes only four or five hours.”

What the hell was Danner doing beyond that ridge?

He’d find out.

“Wait until dawn.” Father Barnabas was standing beside him. “You’ll break your neck on this hill in the dark. You have time. Ted Danner isn’t there yet.”

“And he won’t come up this way. I’d bet he only brought Ben up here so that he could put a barrier to keep him from following him.” His gaze went back to the ridge, which appeared to ramble for miles. “It’s damn long. What the hell is on the other side?”

“The place,” Ben said. “But no demons. I promise you, no demons.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“I am.”

“I’ll check my GPS and try to see what’s beyond that ridge. It’ll give me an idea of the topography.” He smiled faintly. “But I doubt if it has the capacity to identify demons.”

“You’re teasing me. That’s okay. I don’t mind.” Ben was gathering branches from the trees on the slopes leading to the hill. “I’ll build a fire. It gets cold at night in the hills.”

Joe smiled. “But Father Barnabas has his sleeping bag.”

“We can flip for it,” the priest offered.

Ben shook his head. “I like to sleep on the ground. It helps me be closer.”

“Closer to what?” Joe asked.

Ben didn’t answer directly. “Just closer.” He was kneeling and making the fire. “I like it here. It’s kind of peaceful.”

Joe wasn’t feeling at all peaceful. He could feel the blood zinging through his body, and his heart was pounding. At last he was on the way to getting a handle on this nightmare. Should he try to go explore that ridge? He didn’t have any doubt he could make it, but Father Barnabas was right about the smart course being to wait for daylight. He’d be going at it blind, and he didn’t know what the hell he was looking for. He might do it anyway. He didn’t know if he could be patient enough to wait.

“No, Joe.” The priest was gazing at him. “Think about it first.”

Joe nodded curtly. “I’ll call Catherine and Gallo and tell them where we are and see if we can get any idea about where Danner is now. If he’s anywhere near, then I’m going.” He turned and went toward the fire. “I need some light to get our position on the GPS and Google that damn ridge. I think Ben brought a pan, instant coffee, and some bottled water if you want to fix a hot drink. It’s already getting cool.”

“Later.” Father Barnabas was looking out at the ridge, which was only a purple-shaded blur in the falling darkness. “Ben is right, there is peace here. I think I’ll go over there in the trees by myself. I’ll see you soon.”

Maybe he was going to meditate or pray or whatever priests did in cases like this, Joe thought. Though a case like this wasn’t that common. Or perhaps he was planning what his next move would be in order to find Danner before Joe did.

“You watch him.” Ben was sitting back on his heels, his head tilted as he stared at Joe. “He makes you worry. Why?”

Joe shrugged. “He’s a puzzle. He may not be what he seems to be.”

Ben’s gaze went to the priest. “But why should that worry you? It’s all good.”

“Is it? How do you know?”

“Can’t you see? He kind of shines inside. Like you, Joe.”

“Me?” He shook his head. “Not likely, Ben.”

“Not exactly the same. He’s deeper, softer. But he does shine, Joe.” He smiled brilliantly. “And he only wants to help. You don’t have to worry.”

What would Ben know? He thought even Danner was good. How could Joe believe him?

Yet he did believe him. Looking at the boy’s face, he believed every word he’d spoken. Crazy.

No, it wasn’t crazy. That beautiful clear simplicity wasn’t to be denied. Dammit, he suddenly knew he didn’t want to deny it. Maybe the kid could sense or see something that Joe couldn’t. “Well, I can’t see the shine from this distance, so I guess I’ll have to go and get a little closer look at him. I’ll be right back.” He turned and strode toward the trees where the priest was sitting.

“A problem?” Father Barnabas asked as he looked up and saw Joe’s frown. “May I help?”

“Yes.” Joe stopped in front of him. “You can stop being a damn martyr and shrug off all those good intentions and vows of confidentiality that you took as a priest and as your alter ego the great psychiatrist. I’m tired of wondering if you’re going to try to push me under a bus. I want to go after Danner with a clear head.”

The priest’s brows rose. “What brought this on?”

“Ben says you shine. I don’t have his vision. I’m just a cop who’s grounded in reality. I want to see if you’re the real thing or fool’s gold.”

“I have my fool’s-gold moments. Don’t we all?”

“Yeah, but I think that Ben would be able to weigh that in and come up with the right answer.”

“You seem to have a good deal of faith in Ben.”

“I have to have faith in something or someone right now. I
need
it.”

Father Barnabas smiled. “So do I. That’s why I took a moment to myself.”

“Talk to me. Why are you going after Danner? Does he know too much about you, maybe too much about what the Ezra Bonafel court case was all about?”

“I’m not supposed to discuss the court case.”

“To hell with that. I’m going to find out anyway. One of Catherine’s CIA buddies is investigating it. Sealed or not, he’ll know everything about it soon.”

Barnabas’s smile faded. “I’m sure he will. The CIA can be very efficient … and ruthless. But he’s got to be very careful.”

“Why?”

“Tell the CIA to drop it, Joe.”

“Talk to me. What was so bad in those transcripts that they sealed the records? Why did the judge do that?”

Father Barnabas was silent.

“Why?” Joe asked again. “Why did the judge do it?”

The priest finally shrugged. “Because I asked him to do it.”

“You did it? Why?”

“Because it would have hurt people who were vulnerable.” He shook his head. “You’re not going to give up, are you? If I tell you, will you call off those CIA bloodhounds?”

“Maybe. If I think you’re telling the truth. But you can be sure that I’ll let them dig until eternity if you don’t tell me anything.”

The priest smiled faintly. “You’re tough, Joe.” He looked away from him at the horizon over the ridge. “The Ezra Bonafel charge was brought by Ezra’s mother, Dorothy. She claimed I had imprinted false memories through hypnosis on Ezra. The memories were of sexual abuse inflicted on Ezra as a child by his father. She refused to believe that the abuse had happened … although Ezra believed she knew about it.”

“What made her think that the charge would stick?”

“I’d done a few papers in medical journals on the possibility of being able to imprint or erase memories. Ezra had blocked out what had happened to him as a child, but the memories began to come back to him during therapy. His mother went berserk. Actually, she was probably more unstable than Ezra. She loved Ezra and couldn’t admit even to herself that she would permit him to be hurt. She had to have someone to blame.”

“And that was you?”

“Oh, yes. She had to make Ezra believe that I was the enemy and not she. I knew she didn’t stand a chance of winning and that it was going to hurt her and Ezra far more than it did me. I tried to talk her out of pressing charges, but she wouldn’t agree. The best I could get was a trial with the least possible publicity in a small town south of Atlanta.”

“She lost the case?”

“Yes. And she suffered a nervous breakdown two weeks after the judge handed down his decision. Ezra stood by her. I believe the responsibility of taking care of her helped them both to heal.”

“And what helped you to heal?”

“The knowledge that I’d tried to do the right thing.” He grimaced. “But it brought me to the point that I realized that my patients sometimes needed more help than I was able to give. I had to do some serious thinking.” He looked back at Joe. “Don’t let those court records surface. It would hurt Ezra and his mother too much. Maybe God’s helped them to forget all that pain they went through.”

“No bitterness?”

“Why would I be bitter?”

Joe studied him in surprise for a moment. Because a woman had done her best to destroy him? No, he could tell that Father Barnabas was sincere. “No reason.”

“You believe me?”

“I believe you.” He turned away. “I can’t do anything else. Who am I to argue with a man Ben thinks is golden?”

Father Barnabas chuckled. “Not only do I ‘shine,’ but now I’m golden? I must be truly blessed.”