Chasing the Night by Iris Johansen Page A

Catherine, taking her in his arms. “I will touch you. Stop trying to handle it on your own. You need us.”
    “I don’t—” She suddenly collapsed against him, her arms clinging desperately. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled against him. “You’d think I’d be able to handle it by this time. But he knows just where and how to—I’ve got to stop this. It’s what he wants, what he expects.” Her voice was shaking. “He was lying, you know. Every now and then, he’ll tell me he’s killed Luke. I think he saves it for when he’s feeling in the mood for a particularly savage turn of the knife. But he has to be lying, doesn’t he? But I don’t know. I don’t know.”
    “No, you don’t know,” Eve said quietly. “But you have a chance of its not being true. He’s such a bastard that I can’t imagine that he’d give up the value of a live hostage with whom he can taunt you for the momentary pleasure of a kill.”
    “That’s what I tell myself. Sometimes I believe it.” She drew a long, shaky breath and pushed Joe away. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I fell apart like that. Thank you.”
    He leaned back on his heels. “You’re welcome.” He gazed searchingly at her face. “You’re pale, drained. I think you need to drink that coffee.”
    “I agree.” She picked up her cup. “Or something stiffer.” She glanced at Eve. “He was particularly ugly tonight. He didn’t like me coming to you.”
    “Tough. I don’t know how you kept from blowing up at him.”
    “Think about it. He taught me well to hold my tongue. Every time I’d grow angry and say something he didn’t like he’d threaten Luke. That was one of the hardest things to bear.” She took a long drink of coffee. “And one he enjoys the most. He told me once that as long as he holds Luke, I’m his slave. He loves the control over me.”
    “And he evidently embroiders his stories of Luke in detail,” Joe said. “A five-year-old familiar with guns. Unusual.”
    “He meant that he’d threatened Luke with weapons.”
    “Is that what he meant? Or was it something else?”
    Catherine shook her head. “He lies. I can’t tell what’s true and what’s not.” Her grip tightened on the cup. “Except about Luke’s being dead. He’s not dead. Why would he worry if I found out what my son looked like? Why would he try to discourage me?” She added bitterly, “And, yes, I know there’s no telling why Rakovac would do anything. The son of a bitch is crazy.”
    “According to the dossier I pulled on him, he may be a little unbalanced, but he’s clever,” Joe said. “And I think he had a purpose other than wanting to toy with you.”
    “I do, too,” Eve said. “And I believe I’ll thumb my nose at him and finish that progression ASAP.” She finished her coffee and stood up. “I’ll start the dishwasher, then hit the computer.”
    “I’ll go with you,” Catherine said quickly.
    Eve shook her head as she moved toward the door. “Give yourself a few minutes. Your hands are shaking. I don’t want you touching Cindy yet.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Catherine said.
    Eve suddenly grinned as she paused at the door. “When was the last time you said that?”
    “Never,” Catherine said. “I’m not very obedient, and I don’t know many women.”
    “I thought so. It sounded a little awkward.” Eve went into the house.

    “She’s right.” Joe was smiling with amusement. “You’re very articulate, but that did sound awkward.”
    “This entire situation is awkward for me,” Catherine said. “I had to beg Eve to do this progression for me. I’ve never begged anyone for anything before.” Her lips twisted. “Except Rakovac. I begged him to return Luke. He laughed at me.”
    “And Eve listened and helped you. Do you resent her having that kind of power over you?”
    “No, of course—” She stopped. “Maybe. I don’t have a generous spirit. I want it all. I want to keep my pride and still get everything I