Quinn (30 page)

“It’s fairly isolated.” He pushed Jacobs ahead of him. “I’ll take him to a bedroom and secure him. Then we’ll let him be alone for a while to anticipate.” He added softly, “That was one of the techniques I became very familiar with while I was in prison. It always heightened the pain to have to look forward to it first for a time.”

“You won’t have to hurt me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Jacobs said. “But you have to remember, Queen was always the one who called the shots.”

“That’s hard for me to remember.” Gallo was pushing him up the stairs. “Isn’t a silent partner just as guilty? The only difference is the lack of guts in execution.”

Catherine stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched until they disappeared around the landing.

Gallo was furious. She shivered as she remembered his expression as he had taken Jacobs upstairs. His lips had been set, his eyes glittering and reckless. She had been looking upon the capture and questioning of Jacobs as a job, a project. She had forgotten all that Gallo had suffered at Jacobs’s hands. Jacobs might be backpedaling and trying to absolve himself, but he was as guilty as his partner. Considering all that Gallo had suffered, it might be hard for her to defuse that rage.

And did she want to do it? She was beginning to be angry as well. Gallo had not deserved the atrocities he had experienced. Someone should pay.

But the reason they were here wasn’t so that Gallo could get his revenge.

She turned away and looked around the living room. Flowered wallpaper, an ornate wood fireplace, and furniture draped in sheets. The house had obviously not been rented in a long time. She went over to the window and gazed out at the bayou.

Fog. Moss draped trees. Shadows.

She tensed. Shadows. Of course, there were shadows. It was foggy as hell out there. Nothing was clear or defined.

“I tied him spread-eagled on that big four-poster bed in the master bedroom.” Gallo was coming back down the stairs. “Nothing makes you feel more vulnerable than being in that position. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“And you’d hate to be vulnerable.” Her gaze was still fixed on the bayou. “But now you have a chance to get your own back.”

“I thought that was bothering you.” He was suddenly standing behind her at the window. “You’re afraid of what I’m going to do to him.”

“Not afraid. I can understand. When I killed the man who kidnapped my son, I wanted the pain to last forever. But how you feel could get in the way.”

“I won’t let it. But not because I’m getting soft and mushy about the possibility of making him hurt. I’d relish it. But you’re in this with me now, and it’s disturbing you. He’s right about one thing, he was never a prime player in any of this. If I find he has nothing to do with Bonnie’s death, I suppose I can tolerate having him tossed into a federal prison for the rest of his life.”

She turned to look at him. “I’m surprised.”

“So am I.” He paused. “Will it be hard? Hell, yes. I could lose control. Keep an eye on me.”

“I will.”

He chuckled. “Not if you keep staring out at that bayou.” His smile faded. “You’ve been— What’s wrong, Catherine?”

“I don’t know.” She shivered. “I just feel as if someone was watching me. Someone or something. It’s probably nothing. Who could be here? We weren’t followed?”

He shook his head. “Not unless they were damn good. They would have had to have been tailing us from the casino. It’s not likely.”

“Imagination?” She tried to smile. “It’s a setting that would spark all kinds of fantasies, isn’t it? From vampires to alligators crawling up out of the bayou to devour us. I was even remembering that movie about a vampire who lived in the swamps. Shall we go looking for him?” She looked him up and down. “You look like you belong in a vampire movie.” She had changed her clothes, but he had only taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. The civilized clothes made the huge bowie knife he had sheathed at his waist appear even more barbaric.

He wasn’t returning her smile. “I’ve seen how true your instincts can be. You’re fairly remarkable.” He turned and headed for the front door. “I think I’ll take a turn around the property and see if I see anything. Why don’t you go locate the kitchen and see if you can find any tea or coffee? Maybe something hot will chase away the vampires.”

The door closed behind him.

*   *   *

GALLO RETURNED ABOUT THIRTY
minutes later. “Catherine.”

“Here. The kitchen is down the hall and to the right,” she called.

He appeared at the door a minute later. “I didn’t see anything or anyone. No vampires, no alligators.”

“But could you even see them in this fog? I believe it’s getting worse.” She handed him a mug. “No tea, no coffee. Only chicken bouillon. I managed to heat it, but the water from the tap looked rusty. I don’t know how it’s going to taste.”

He took a sip. “Not bad.”

She wrinkled her nose after she tasted the bouillon. “Liar.”

He smiled. “It’s hot. The fog was chilly.” His smile faded. “Are you ready? We’ve given Jacobs time to simmer. I think you’ll feel better if we get to it.”

“You’re being very protective.” Her lips twisted. “I’m not accustomed to that kind of treatment, Gallo. It’s not as if I’m not used to dealing with this kind of situation.”

“I can’t help it,” he said simply. “I know who and what you are. You probably think I’m insulting you. But I keep wanting to…” He searched for the word. “Shelter you. Take it however you like.”

She was taking it with a strange melting warmth that was like a river warming her, closing out the chill that had been with her since she had arrived at this house. She’d had friends, she’d had Terry, her husband, she’d had Venable, who had looked out for her as much as he could. But they had all accepted her as totally independent and able to care for herself. They had never intruded on that independence because they’d probably been afraid of how she’d respond. They had certainly never tried to shelter her.

Gallo looked at her quizzically. “You’re not saying anything. Do you want to spit in my eye?”

She took another sip of bouillon before she reluctantly put the cup down on the sink. “Not at the moment. But I do agree we’d better go up and start questioning Jacobs.”

*   *   *

JACOBS’S EYES WERE WIDE OPEN,
and he was trying to make sounds behind the tape Gallo had placed over his mouth.

“Hello, Jacobs. You seem to want to talk.” Gallo bent over and ripped the tape off Jacobs’s mouth.

He yelled, his eyes bulging with rage. “You son of a bitch.”

The vulnerability of Jacobs on that monster of a four-poster bed was as obvious as Gallo had said, Catherine thought. His thin arms and legs were tied to each of the four posts, and his chest was rising and falling with the force of his breathing. She had expected him to be frightened, but he was angry, his expression twisted and ugly.

“You didn’t have to do this. I told you that we could make a deal. We could be partners. I need another partner now that Queen is dead.”

“But I don’t want you for a partner,” Gallo said. “All I want is information. Give me what I want, and there’s a chance you might survive this. Ms. Ling doesn’t want to witness any unnecessary unpleasantness. Now it’s your turn to prove it is unnecessary.”

“I
can’t
tell you anything.”

“Let’s see if that’s true. I hope you’re wrong, Jacobs.”

Jacobs was struggling and pulling at the ropes. “Let me go.”

“That’s not going to happen. Now let’s go step by step with this scenario. First, you and Queen hired Paul Black to take the blame for killing Bonnie. You set it up so that I’d put the pieces together and come out with Black killing her to avenge what I did to him in Pakistan.”

“I told you, it was Queen all the way. I just did what he said.”

Gallo ignored Jacobs’s words. “Second, you told Black that I had killed Bonnie during one of my blackouts.” His muscles were suddenly stiff with tension. “That didn’t happen, did it?”

Jacobs gaze slid away from him. “How do I know? That’s what Queen said.”

“And you only know what Queen told you,” Catherine said sarcastically. “Amazing.”

Jacobs gave her a venomous glance. “That’s right.”

“But I didn’t do it, Jacobs,” Gallo said. “Who did kill her? Queen?” He paused. “You?”

“No.” Jacobs’s eyes widened in alarm. “I didn’t touch her. I swear I didn’t know anything about it. Queen handled it.”

Gallo tensed. “Handled what? Why would Queen kill my daughter?”

“He didn’t. Don’t be stupid.” He moistened his lips. “You did it. We were just protecting you. Queen was afraid that you’d start raving like you did in that hospital in Tokyo if you ended up in a mental hospital. We were just protecting you.”

Gallo turned pale. “You’re lying.”

“He
is
lying.” Catherine stepped closer to the bed, her gaze fixed on Jacobs’s face. “Why, Jacobs? Why not just blame it on Queen?”

“It was Queen,” he said quickly. “You caught me off guard. That was the reason I went with the story that Queen concocted. Queen killed her. It was all his fault.”

“I don’t think so,” Gallo said. “You’re too eager to jump from one story to another. It might be Queen. Hell, I don’t know who’s to blame, but I’m going to find out.” He took out his knife and pressed it against Jacobs’s left wrist. “Do you know how quickly you can die of blood loss if I cut your wrist? Shall I do it so that we can see?”

“No!” He was staring in panicked fascination at the blade of the knife. “Don’t kill me. It wasn’t my fault.”

“And it wasn’t mine either, was it?” Gallo asked harshly. “I didn’t do it, did I? Say it.”

“Of course not.” Jacobs’s tone was almost impatient, his gaze on the knife. “It was only the story Queen made up. He shouldn’t have even had to tell Black anything. Queen was always getting complicated when simple would have done as well.”

Gallo’s eyes closed for an instant as the relief surged through him. He hadn’t been sure until that moment, Catherine realized. But the very casualness of Jacobs’s answer was more convincing than if he’d sworn it on a Bible.

“Okay, now let’s talk about Queen,” Gallo said. “You said he killed Bonnie. Why?”

“I don’t know. Look, I’ve told you that he killed her. That should be enough.”

“It’s not enough,” Gallo said. “Talk. Tell me what happened.”

“I can’t do it. I can’t tell anyone.” Jacobs’s voice was harsh with desperation. “Do you think I don’t want to tell you? I
can’t
do it.”

“Then I’ll have to get to work,” Gallo shifted the knife in his hand. “And I’m a pretty clumsy surgeon, Jacobs.”

Jacobs shook his head. “Don’t hurt me. None of it is my fault.” Tears were running down his cheeks. “He won’t let me tell anyone.”

“He?” Catherine asked slowly. “Another hired killer like Paul Black? Did Queen hire someone to kill Gallo’s daughter?”

Jacobs’s jaw clenched. “Don’t hurt me.”

Gallo leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “Talk, Jacobs. I’m tired of hearing—” He stopped and a shudder went through him. He took a breath, then slowly straightened. “Listen carefully; you’re going to talk, or I will hurt you. I’ll give you thirty minutes to think about it. Catherine and I will leave you to consider what’s your best option. Then we’ll be back, and you’ll tell me everything I want to know.” He turned toward the door. “Thirty minutes.”

“I can’t do it,” Jacobs whispered. “He’ll kill me. You may hurt me, but I have a chance to live. I know he’ll do it.” His lips were suddenly curled with anger. “This is all your fault, Gallo. You may not have killed her, but it’s all your fault. You shouldn’t hurt me.”

“Thirty minutes.” He turned back and taped Jacobs’s mouth shut again. Then he strode to the door and opened the door for Catherine. “No more. I don’t want to hear anything from you until you tell me what I want to know.” He shut the door firmly behind them.

Catherine drew a deep breath as she started down the stairs. “I wasn’t sure that you were going to stop.”

“Neither was I,” he said grimly. “I had to stop now or not at all. It was hard as hell.”

“But you said it would be easier after he has time to think about what might happen to him.”

“That’s the plan. He’s not a brave man. It should be easy to break him.” He frowned. “But I don’t know…”

“I don’t know either.” Catherine was remembering Jacobs’s terrified expression. “He was afraid.”

“And not of me.” His lips tightened. “Which would have meant breaking him would have been twice as hard.”

“He should have been afraid of you. You were very intimidating.”

“Not enough.” He had reached the bottom of the stairs. “But I will be when I go back upstairs. He
has
to talk.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We sit in that drafty kitchen and have some more of that less-than-pleasant bouillon.” He headed for the kitchen. “And we give Jacobs time to become terrified by his own imaginings.”