Taking Eve(74)
There was no pushing Venable any more at the moment, Joe thought. It would be useless. Venable had already committed, and he had to give him a little more space. “Not long, Venable.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Doane?”
“You’re already trying to work it out for yourself. Before you get on the phone and start checking, you’d better have another name other than the one we gave him.” He took out his phone. “Relling. James Herbert Relling.”
Rio Grande Forest, Colorado
DOANE WAS ASLEEP AT LAST.
Eve could hear the steadiness of his breathing. It had taken him over an hour to settle down on his couch and another twenty minutes before she could take the chance that he was sound enough asleep so that she could start to move. Doane must have been as charged as she had been after he had opened up the floodgates about Kevin this afternoon.
She gazed up at the socket in the ceiling over the bed.
Two more minutes, and she’d start moving. She just hoped there was still gas in that line. She had opened that nozzle four times, and the last time it had not seemed to have a very powerful effect on her. That could mean that she was not getting enough gas or that she was becoming partially immune to it. She hoped it was the latter. Perhaps this time she’d leave it open a little longer and find which was true.
It would be a risk.
Hell, everything she did was a risk. This was a way out, possibly the only way out. She had to know if it was working or if she had to search out another path. Joe would say it was reckless, and she should wait for him to come for her. He had tried to free her to make a move, but she knew he didn’t want her to make that move without him.
Joe.
She closed her eyes and let the thought of him surround her. His tea-colored eyes, the way he moved, the quiet that hid all the leashed fierceness, the intelligence that was both a challenge and source of pride to her. Thinking about him soothed her, and she wanted to cling to it.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t rely on him. He was her friend and her lover, but this was her battle. She had to make her own decisions.
I’m sorry, Joe. Run toward me. I’ll run toward you. One way or another, we’ll come together. That’s the way it’s always been.
She opened her eyes.
Two minutes had passed. Doane’s breathing had stayed even and perhaps had deepened. Time to move.
She slipped from the bed and began to fold it up in the middle.
No sound.
Slowly.
She knew the drill now and it took her less than a minute to climb up on the bed and reach for the nozzle to unscrew it.
She drew a deep breath and opened the line.
Carnations.
She started to close the line.
Wait. A little more. Test it.
Carnations.
Dizziness.
Blackness, closing in.
She frantically turned the screw.
Too much. Too much.
Get down.
No noise.
Hold on.
Don’t black out.
Hurry. Get down. You’ll ruin everything if he finds out what you’ve been doing.
She reached the floor, staggered, and fell to her knees.
Carnations.
Had she left that line open or was the smell just still in her nostrils?
If she’d left it open, she had to go back up and close it.
Not now. She wouldn’t be able to manage yet. Too weak. Much too weak.
She curled up in a ball on the floor.
Dizzy.
Darkness …
* * *
STUPID. SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN sure that gas line was closed. She could vaguely remember hurriedly turning the screw but maybe—
“Stop worrying, Mama. You closed it.”
Bonnie?
She opened her eyes to see Bonnie leaning against the folded bed a few yards away. Her daughter was dressed as always in her Bugs Bunny T-shirt and jeans, and her curly red hair gleamed even in the dimness of the room. So little, so beautiful, so beloved.
Bonnie suddenly chuckled. “Don’t be sappy, Mama. I was never beautiful except to you. Red hair and freckles on my nose?”
“Don’t make fun of me. You were—you are beautiful. It’s spirit that makes beauty.”
“Then I guess I should be beautiful because I’m most certainly a spirit.” Her smile faded. “You shouldn’t have doubled that dose of gas, Mama. You scared me. I was worried about you. I was afraid you were going to fall.”
“I had to make sure that I was—”
“I know why you were doing it,” Bonnie interrupted. “But you shouldn’t have done it. It was working. Your body is becoming accustomed to the gas.”
“You should have come and told me that before the fact,” Eve said tartly. “It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
“I couldn’t come to you. I’ve been trying. There’s too much darkness holding me away. He doesn’t want me near you. Sometimes it’s easier to use dreams, but that didn’t work either. I wouldn’t have been able to come this time if the gas hadn’t knocked you out. You’re deep enough so that I could slip in.”