she believed him. As he had perceived, any danger to them would have made her angry and rebellious. He'd made no direct threat at all and he might just be trying to intimidate her into doing his job.
Maybe.
Yet he'd seemed to know entirely too much about her movements. Was she being watched?
Yes, she'd definitely tell Joe. But there was no use in alarming him right now. She'd tell him tonight when he came home for dinner. Okay, so she wanted to get back to Marty and she was afraid talking to Joe about Montalvo would keep her from doing it. She wasn't about to let Montalvo disturb her concentration on her work. That slimeball would probably enjoy the thought that he could control her to that extent. He might even call her again and try to reinforce that control. She'd be damned if she'd let him. She turned off the house phone and then her cell phone before moving back toward the reconstruction on the easel across the room.
Block Montalvo out of her thoughts. Think of Marty and the chance to bring him home. Think of the boy who'd been murdered and buried and left alone with no name or place.
That was better. Montalvo's words were blurring, fading away as she began to work.
Talk to me, Marty. Help me to bring you home…
'Pity.' Montalvo looked down at the phone. 'I was hoping she'd give in to greed like a normal person. It's easy to be noble for an hour, a day, but then they start to think and perhaps dream a little. A week should have whetted her appetite and made her start making excuses why she should take the job.'
'Not everyone thinks that money is the be-all and end-all of everything, Montalvo,' Soldono said.
Montalvo smiled. 'Almost everyone. It's unfortunate that Eve Duncan is in the minority.' He rose from the carved chair at the head of the dining table. 'Oh, well. One must make adjustments.'
Soldono tensed. 'Don't do it, Montalvo.'
'She's giving me little choice. You're giving me little choice. You didn't talk to her, did you?' He shook his head. 'I told you what you had to do but you were looking for an out. I can see you scrambling frantically to avoid bringing her into the picture until time got away from you. Well, that time has come.'
'Why her?' Soldono asked. 'There's a fine forensic sculptor in Rio de Janeiro. Use him.'
'Sanchez?' Montalvo shook his head. 'Technically brilliant but he's not what I want.'
'Eve Duncan is an American citizen and she's known and respected by every police department on the planet. She turned down your money and you'll be stirring up a hornet's nest if you try to force her.'
'And you wouldn't like that. The CIA tries to be very low-key these days.'
'Let me try to get Sanchez for you.'
'You don't understand.'
'Then tell me.'
He gazed musingly down at the depths of the wine in his glass. 'It's a matter of passion.'
'What?'
'I told Eve Duncan that I was a man of passion. It's true.'
Soldono hadn't noticed any emotion in Montalvo, much less a passion. The man was brilliant, innovative, and he kept any feelings or thoughts hidden behind that faintly mocking smile. 'Why Eve Duncan?' he repeated.
'She has passion too. I've studied her file and nothing could be clearer. It's like a whirlwind spinning around her. She grew up on the streets with a drug addict for a mother and gave birth to an illegitimate child as a teenager. She turned her life around and went back to school and became a model mother. Then her daughter was kidnapped and presumably killed, but the body was never found. Instead of being crushed, the lady became a forensic sculptor and tried to bring closure to other parents by identifying the remains of their missing children.'
'I know all that,' Soldono said impatiently.
'You know the facts but you've never studied Eve Duncan the way I have. I believe I may know her better than she knows herself. I know what drives her. I know what makes her tick.'
'Yeah, sure.' He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his tone. 'Passion?'
'Don't underestimate it. Da Vinci had it. Michelangelo had it. It's the difference between art and creation. Eve Duncan has it.' His tone was smooth but hard. 'And that's why I have to have her. Don't try to pawn anyone else off on me.'
'Find another way. You promised me that you'd-'
'And I'd keep my promise if you'd kept yours.' His tone was threaded with mockery as he continued, 'But since the lady is not being accommodating, I must have cooperation from someone. You can see that, can't you?'
'No.'
Montalvo's smile faded. 'Then your vision had better improve quickly. I told you yesterday that if I didn't get the answer I wanted, then I'd move. You obviously chose to think I wasn't serious. I'll give you another four hours to persuade her, Soldono. No more, no less.' He looked at his watch. 'Ten tonight.'
'I can't strike a bargain like that.'
'Of course you can. Don't bullshit me. You do it all the time. A life for a life.' He turned away. 'Finish your dinner. The tiramisu is magnificent. The chef will be upset if you don't try it.'
Soldono was seething with frustration as he watched him walk away. Sleek, graceful, and as dangerous as a stick of dynamite too near the flames. Bastard.
Would he do it?
Why was he even questioning it? Montalvo didn't bluff and he would carry out any threat he made in exactly the method he'd outlined.
He had four hours.
He'd hoped to find a way to stop Montalvo without involving Eve Duncan but time had run out. But was it to his advantage to make a trade for the woman? Why not let it go? He had to be sure it was worth it.
Four hours.
He reached for his phone and quickly dialed.
'Montalvo's given me four hours. Dammit, he'll do it. How the hell am I supposed to stop him?'
Venable was silent for a moment. 'It's time you offered Eve Duncan a choice.'
'Some choice. Okay, I'm on it. I'll call you back when I get through.' He hung up and looked in his book for Eve Duncan's phone number.
'Jane called me,' Joe said as he came into the cottage two hours later. 'She tried to reach you but she couldn't do it. She said she'd made reservations for us at the Doubletree in Phoenix and that I was to remind you that the show was this Saturday.' He smiled. 'I told her that there was a fairly good chance that you'd remember.'
'What?' She tried to shift her attention away from the skull. It was like fighting her way through a thick fog. 'Of course I remembered.' Eve managed to tear her gaze away from Marty. 'It's a
