'What the devil is going on? Do you suppose something's happened to him?'
'Do you mean do I think Montalvo got pissed off at him and killed him?' Joe shrugged. 'We'll find out. I'm going to make some calls. I'll see if Venable in the CIA can track him down.'
Venable. She vaguely remembered the name. 'Will he talk to us about CIA business?'
Joe's lips tightened. 'Oh, yes, he'll talk to me. Go get yourself some breakfast. I'll get back to you as soon as I can.'
'I just want some orange juice.' She turned toward the door. 'I have to get back to work on Marty. I should have worked last night instead of fretting over something I couldn't help.'
'You're allowed to be distracted occasionally.'
'No, I'm not. Not when I have a job to do.' She moved toward the easel where Marty waited.
Concentrate. Think about the boy who was lost. Forget everything else. Her fingers moved searchingly, delicately molding the clay over the cheekbones. It was the last stage of the reconstruction and the most definitive one.
Let her hands work without thought.
Smooth.
Mold.
Smooth.
Help me, Marty…
It took Joe almost an hour to get hold of Venable, and when the agent came on the line, his tone was reserved and unencouraging.
'I can't talk about Soldono, Quinn. He's an agent on assignment. You were FBI at one time and you know that it puts our man at risk to discuss that assignment.'
'We didn't go to Soldono. He came to us. Now tell me what's happening.'
'Same answer.'
'Venable.' Joe's words spat out hard and fast with bullet velocity. 'I don't know what this is all about, but your man screwed up handling Montalvo. I don't like having Eve put on the spot to correct that screwup. I don't like it so much that if Soldono is still alive and kicking, I'm tempted to go down there and strangle the bastard. But Eve isn't like me. She's going to worry until she knows that Soldono is okay and that he reached Montalvo in time to stop him from executing a man. So you tell me what's happening, dammit.'
Venable was silent a moment. 'I don't know what's happening. I haven't heard from Soldono since he called me and told me that Eve had consented to deal with Montalvo. He was going to contact him immediately after he hung up and check back with me.'
'He didn't call?'
'He didn't call. I've been trying to reach him all night.'
'Shit.'
'I've sent a man to Montalvo's compound to try to check on Soldono, but I won't chance losing another man unless I'm sure Soldono is in danger.'
'You ran a risk for that mole in Montalvo's camp.'
'Gonzales was valuable. Most of Montalvo's men are loyal to him and the chances of getting another informant in his camp are practically nil. We have to know what he's doing.'
'Why? A two-bit weapons dealer?'
'There's nothing two-bit about Montalvo. You didn't check deep enough. He's the big man to go to for weapons in South America. He supplies drug dealers, rebels, militias, anyone with the money to pay. If we can't stop him, we need to know where those weapons are going.'
'And Gonzales was telling you.'
'Until Montalvo caught him last week. He contacted Soldono and invited him to the compound for a discussion. You know the rest.'
'A screwup.'
'If it was, I have to bear the brunt of the blame. I told Soldono to stall, to find a way that wouldn't involve pushing an American citizen into jeopardy.' He paused. 'Actually, I was surprised that Montalvo thought Gonzales's life or death would even matter to her.'
'It would matter. When you work with death as much as Eve does, life takes on a very special value. But it worries the hell out of me that Montalvo would realize that about her. You wouldn't think he'd-I want to know more about Montalvo.'
'He's smart, he's deadly, and not always predictable. I don't have time to fill you in on anything else about him right now. As you can see, I have a problem. I'll phone you when I find out anything about Soldono.' He hung up.
Joe slowly pressed the disconnect. His uneasiness was growing. Montalvo's insight into Eve's character was chilling. No threats to her family, she had said. Nothing that would trigger instant antagonism. But he'd still played on the sensitivity that was Eve's core.
He rose to his feet and went into the house. Eve was totally absorbed, her fingers flying over the features of her reconstruction. She didn't look up as he came into the room. She had forgotten everything but her Marty and the task of bringing him home.
For once he was grateful for that single-minded dedication that was a key quality of Eve's. She wouldn't even realize that time was passing if Venable didn't get back to him right away.
Eve carefully set the brown glass eyes into the sockets of the reconstruction and took a step back. It was the best she could do. She only hoped it would be good enough. 'What about it, Marty?' she whispered. 'You were a very handsome little boy, you know. Lord, I hope you have a safe haven somewhere now. I'll do the computer work and then we'll see if we can bring you home.'
'Finished?'
She turned to see Joe sitting on the couch. She nodded and reached for the towel to wipe her hands. 'Finished. It took a long time. It wasn't coming.' She arched her back to ease the ache. 'It's almost dark.'
'It was dark an hour ago.'
'Oh.' She shook her head to clear it. It was always like this after she'd finished a reconstruction. Exhaustion, disorientation, and sadness. 'Longer than I thought.'
But the world was coming back to her now. 'Did you get through to Soldono? No, that's right, you were calling Venable.'
'Venable hasn't called me back yet. He doesn't know anything about why Soldono isn't answering his phone. Why don't you take a shower? I'll put a pizza in the oven and we'll-' Joe's cell phone rang. 'Quinn.' He listened for a moment. 'Okay, call you back.'
'Something wrong?' Eve asked.
'I don't know. Venable got an anonymous message on his voice mail.'
'What's that to do with us?'
'It was only two words. 'Duncan. Porch.''
Her gaze flew to the screen door. 'Porch.' She was across the room in a heartbeat.
Joe beat her to the door. 'Get the hell away from there.' His shove was not gentle. He opened the window to the right of the door, jerked the slender flashlight out of his pocket, and shone the beam out onto the shadowy porch. 'Nothing. No one.' He swung over the windowsill onto the porch and crouched low. The beam played over every inch of the porch. A moment later he straightened. 'No one's here.'
'False alarm?'
'I didn't say that.' The beam of his flashlight was focused over a rectangular Styrofoam box before the front door. 'But at least the delivery boy is gone.'
