she probably would by anything he would tell her. He would be like Eve and not be able or willing to share the view from the horizon. She would just have to put the pieces together and figure out how she could deal with them.
But that instant when she’d realized how dangerous Joe Quinn could be had disconcerted her. If he was deadly toward Drogan, could he also be a threat to Eve? How did Beth know who was bad or good? She had almost no practical experience, and there were so many dangers in this world.
She closed the door of the library and tucked herself in the leather chair in which Billy had been sitting. Her hand instinctively went to clasp the gold key at her throat. It always made her feel safe when she was most scared and confused. Rick had given the necklace to her on her sixteenth birthday and told her that she should wear it forever to remind her that he loved her.
She had been surprised that she’d still had it around her neck after the years on the sedatives. During the last few months, when she’d been totally drug-free, she’d noticed the nurses carefully put it back on her after they bathed her. Rick must have told them to do it. Which only proved that he still cared for her and had nothing to do with Pierce or that horrible Stella woman who had sometimes taken care of her.
But Eve and Joe had both been suspicious of Rick.
Forget it. Beth knew the truth about him. She would just have to explain and convince them of their mistake. Rick was the one good thing in that old life she could not do without. She had many changes she wanted to make in the way she lived her life. She wanted to reach out, instead of closing herself away from people.
She wanted to reach out to Eve.
One step at a time.
For the moment, she would sit there and wait for Joe Quinn to tell her how she could begin those steps.
* * *
DROGAN HAD BEEN IN THESE TREES.
Joe’s hunch about Drogan’s being in the long driveway of the house next door to the Tudor had paid off.
Joe knelt and shined his flashlight on the prints in the earth. One knee indentation, one foot bracing. Drogan had been kneeling there.
He would have had a good view of the courtyard from that spot.
Was he still around?
No car was parked in the trees. If there had been one there, he’d moved it.
Where?
Find out.
Fifteen minutes later, Joe found the car in the driveway of the third estate around the curve of the road. A red Lamborghini was in the driveway, but in the trees to the left was parked a tan Toyota rental car with plates from a dealer in Santa Barbara.
He glided forward. No one in the driver’s seat. Get inside the car and see if he could find any papers or evidence that would link—
The red Lamborghini roared to life and was barreling toward him!
A bullet creased Joe’s cheek, and the car clipped his hip as he jumped to the side.
Pain.
Ignore it. He drew his .38 and fired off a shot that smashed the sports car’s side mirror and ricocheted to hit Drogan’s hand on the steering wheel.
Joe heard a spate of curses, then a bullet struck the ground next to him. He rolled to the passenger side behind the protection of the Toyota.
But Drogan had already reached the road, and the sports car was screeching around the bend.
And the lights were coming on in the house behind him, dammit. The last thing Joe needed was to be found on the property and accused of being a car thief.
He got to his feet and limped into the trees. It wasn’t likely that they’d be searching for the man who had stolen that Lamborghini to be on foot. But he had to get back to the house before there was an uproar in the neighborhood. The owners would report the theft to the police, and they’d be out to intercept Drogan.
But Drogan wouldn’t risk being picked up. He’d abandon that car as soon as he could, and he no longer had his own rental to fall back on. Joe had come close to nailing the bastard, and he was mad as hell he’d blown it. But there were a few good results from a lousy evening. Drogan had a bullet in his hand, no car, and was in no