Текст книги "The Killing Game "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Hope?

Perhaps. She had found Debby Jordan.

Dom had no objection to hope. He had wanted to drag the search out a little longer, let the tension build and the relationship with Jane MacGuire grow, but he could deal with optimism. The fall was always greater when you'd climbed to the top. Perhaps it was even better that she'd found the woman so soon. Things were going to move fast from now on, and he'd be walking a tightrope. Excitement seared through him at the thought.

But pitting himself against Eve Duncan was more exhilarating still. She was evolving, toughening, changing just as he had changed. It was interesting to observe and know that he was responsible.

So hope was fine.

But there was something else going on with her. . . .

Watch her. Body language almost always told the story. If he studied her, it would come to him. He had begun to know her very well.

It would come to him.

SARAH AND JANE met Eve and Joe in the driveway.

Monty ran toward Eve, wagging his tail, when she opened the car door.

She gently patted his head. "He looks better."

"He is. Thank God." Sarah gestured and Monty ran back to her. "Nice lunch?"

"Very nice. Fajitas and chili," Joe answered. "I think Eve enjoyed it much more than your Monty would have. I was tempted to bring him a doggie bag, but Eve convinced me it wouldn't be wise."

"I would have murdered you. Monty gets gas."

"Have you been running all this time?"

"No, Jane and I had a picnic." She smiled at the little girl. "Jane said she couldn't remember the last time she had a picnic lunch."

Jane shrugged. "No big deal. Just a lot of ants and dirt in the sandwiches."

Sarah shook her head. "You're tough."

"Well, I guess Monty liked the picnic."

"Because you fed your roast beef to him."

"You told him to take it, and he needed it. He hasn't eaten much lately." Jane headed for the front door. "Come on, Monty. I'll give you some water."

Monty didn't move.

Sarah made another hand gesture and Monty bounded after Jane into the house.

"Thanks for keeping her company," Eve said.

"I enjoy her." Sarah was frowning slightly. "I wish I could– It's not easy for her."

"What?"

"I can't share Monty. She wants him to belong to her, and that can't happen. It's not safe for him to have a divided allegiance." She made a face. "Besides, we've been close too long. It kind of shuts everyone else out."

"She understands about compromises. She's made the adjustment."

"Compromises suck."

"I'll second that," Joe murmured. He headed for the front door. "I'm going to call Charlie Cather and then go down to the precinct. I'll see you tonight."

"Why are you calling Charlie? I thought you said he wouldn't let us go with him."

"Another try won't hurt."

Sarah's gaze followed Joe. "You were gone a long time. I was wondering whether Monty and I should come after you."

Eve smiled. "I don't need protection from Joe."

"No?"

"Time got away from us." She tilted her head. "You don't like Joe?"

"I didn't say that. I do like him. He was nice to Monty. I like most people who are nice to Monty. I just think he's a powerhouse and you have to be careful not to be run over by people like him. I've had a few experiences with powerhouses myself."

"For God's sake, we only had lunch. I won't be run over."

Sarah gave her a shrewd look. "Unless you want it to happen." She held up a hand as she strode toward the door. "It's none of my business. I think I'll go and see how Jane and Monty are doing."

Eve slowly followed her into the house. She could hear the sound of Jane's and Sarah's laughter in the kitchen. Joe must be in the office making his call.

Joe . . .

Unless you want it to happen.

Of course she didn't want it to happen. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was. It was too dangerous to let herself be swayed by the–

The house phone rang.

"There's a Mr. Grunard at the front gate," Herb Booker said when she picked up the receiver. "He said you're expecting him."

"Let him in, Herb." She felt a ripple of relief as she replaced the phone. The arrival of Mark Grunard brought her mind back to what was important.

She opened the front door before he could ring the bell.

"Well, this is more welcome than I've come to expect from you." Mark got out of the car. "I anticipated having to storm the gates."

She smiled. "I've never meant to close you out. I just didn't have anything important to share with you."

"I'm a journalist. I can make a story out of a trip to the grocery store."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said dryly. "Come in and I'll fill you in on what's been happening. Off the record."

"Of course." He followed her into the living room. "Where's Quinn?"

"In the office, I think. He's going to the precinct later."

"Yeah, I heard how he finagled that job as liaison. Smart. And very convenient for me."

She turned to face him. "I want to cooperate with you, Mark. But I won't let you put Joe on the spot."

"Quinn can take care of himself."

Mark wasn't going to listen. Now that he was in the center of things, he was going to push until he got what he wanted. "I've been feeling a little guilty about you, Mark. I don't like the idea of breaking my word to anyone. But the minute you start making Joe's job awkward for him is the minute you'll be out of the loop."

Grunard smiled. "Now, why would I make Quinn's job difficult? We're all after the same thing. I'll go down to the precinct after I check into a hotel, but I won't get in Quinn's way." He was glancing around the room. "Nice place. Quinn told me Logan had set you up."

She gave him a blank stare. "I don't know what you mean."

He chuckled. "He also said you'd deny it."

"Logan has nothing to do with this. Leave him out–"

"I brought you a glass of milk, Eve." Jane was standing in the doorway. "Mrs. Carboni used to say that milk settled her stomach after she ate spicy food."

"I don't like being compared to Mrs. Carboni." She smiled as she took the milk. "But thanks anyway."

"No offense." Jane smiled back at her. "I used to sneak jalapeno juice into everything she ate. It's pretty hard to tell in spaghetti sauce. Sometimes the milk didn't help and she'd be up all night throwing up."

Eve laughed. "Good."

"This milk's safe. I wouldn't do that to you."

"My, my," Mark murmured. "I believe our little chickadee has mellowed."

Jane gave him a cool glance.

"Or maybe not." Mark smiled. "How are you, Jane?"

"I'm no chickadee." She left the room.

"Ouch." Mark wrinkled his nose. "It seems you're the only one she's tolerating these days."

"I'd have snubbed you too if you'd been that patronizing toward me. She's been holding up better than anyone could expect. She's been wonderful."

"Okay, okay." He held up his hands in surrender. "I see the two of you are presenting a united front. I think I'd better go find Quinn and get him to fill me in on what's been going on. It's safer. Where's the office?"

"Second door on your left," she said curtly.

He glanced back at her from the door. "Dom's done it, hasn't he? The kid's gotten to you."

"Don't be stupid. We're just used to each other, that's all. We live together."

He shook his head. "Then Dom had better never see you with her. He might make the same mistake I did."

Chill iced through her. Had the growing bond been that obvious? "He won't see her with me."

"Then that's okay." Mark left the room.

It wasn't okay. If Mark had made the connection so easily, maybe anyone would be able to see it also. She wouldn't let it happen. She would never take Jane from the house. Still she felt shaken and scared and a little sick. She needed warmth and life and–

Joe.

No, she couldn't go running to Joe.

Jane and Sarah were in the kitchen. She'd go there and sit down at the table and listen to them talk and laugh. She'd pet Monty and then maybe she'd call her mother. She'd keep busy and try not to think of the photograph or Dom or anything but the precious things in life.

And soon the chill would go away.

THE RED-HAIRED DOLL stared up at Eve with glassy brown eyes. Its porcelain throat was cut from ear to ear.

"It was in the driveway. Someone must have tossed it through the gate," Herb Booker said quietly. "The video camera at the gate went out and Juan found the doll when he went to check it. The camera lens had been shattered. Probably a shot from a long-range weapon, since the camera didn't pick up anything. I was going to call Mr. Logan, but I thought you should see this first."

"Yes," she said numbly.

"It wasn't there when Mr. Quinn or Mr. Grunard left earlier. I checked the gate myself." He hesitated. "It's a little girl doll."

"I can see that."

Bonnie.

Jane.

"It's nasty. I think we should call someone."

"I'll take care of it."

"No offense, ma'am, but it could mean the little girl is–"

"I'll take care of it, Herb." Her hand tightened on the doll. "Thank you for your concern."

"I think you should reconsider–"

"Go away." She stopped and tempered the sharpness of her tone. "I'm sorry. I'm upset. I need to be alone to think about this. I don't want you to call anyone, not even Mr. Logan. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

But he didn't say he wouldn't do it. Why should he? Logan paid his salary.

"Not even Mr. Logan," she repeated, and then gave him an out. "At least, not until tomorrow. Okay?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. Juan and I will both patrol the grounds tonight. You don't have to worry."

"Thank you."

Not worry? Dom had been close enough to toss this savaged doll practically on her front doorstep.

Booker still didn't move.

"Good-bye, Herb." She went into the living room and a moment later heard the front door close behind him.

She sat down on the couch, took out her digital phone, and laid it on the coffee table in front of her.

And waited for him to call her.

It was almost midnight when the phone rang.

"Just a reminder," Dom said.

"What's wrong? Did you get tired of sending me bones?"

There was a surprised silence. "You're angry."

"You bet I am."

"What an interesting development."

"Did you expect me to sit shivering in the dark, you son of a bitch?"

"I didn't really think about it. As I said, I only meant it to remind you of what was important in your life. I believe you may be forgetting."

"Important? You?"

"Yes. Right now there's no one more important to you than I am."

"Screw you." She hung up.

The phone rang again five minutes later.

She ignored it.

It rang four times more in the next hour.

She didn't answer.

IT WAS AFTER two in the morning when Joe came home.

She was still sitting on the couch, holding the doll, when he walked into the living room.

He took one look at the doll and then at her expression. "Shit. What the hell happened?"

"Dom tossed it onto the driveway. Herb didn't tell you?"

He shook his head. "I was wondering why they were both at the gate when I drove in. Did he call?"

"Yes."

He fell to his knees before her. "Bad?"

"The bastard's always bad. It's what he does." Her voice was shaking. "He thought I wasn't paying enough attention to him. He wanted to remind me that he was still around."

Joe gently stroked her hair back from her face. "You could hardly forget."

"That isn't enough for him. He wants to dominate my life. He wants to be my life." She looked down at the doll. "He tossed this ugliness at me so I'd remember Bonnie and Jane and all those other–"

"Shh."

"Don't shush me. I won't have it." She jumped to her feet. "You're treating me like the victim he wants me to be. I won't be a victim. I won't let him run my life."

"Easy." He rose to his feet. "I'm not the enemy here, Eve."

"I know." She took a step closer and buried her head in his shoulder. "Hold me."

He carefully slid his arms around her.

"No, dammit." She pressed against him. "Hold me."

He went still. "Are we talking about what I think we are?"

"I won't think of him. I won't think of death. That's what he wants me to do. I want to live."

"And you're equating sex with life?"

"Aren't they the same thing? If not, I don't know what the hell all the shouting is about."

"Sex can be a big part of life."

"I won't let him do this to me. I'm not going to sit around and wait for him to come knocking on the door or dictate to me. I'll do what I damn well please."

"Your declaration of tenderness is amazing."

"Do you think I don't know it's not fair to you? But you want it. You told me you wanted it. Have you changed your mind?"

"Hell, no." His lips firmed. "But this isn't what I had in mind."

"It's not what I had in mind either. But I won't have him–" Christ, what was she doing? This was Joe. Where were all her good intentions? Tears were suddenly running down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. Forget it. I don't know what I was thinking. Hell, I wasn't thinking. I was only feeling. Try to forgive me. I must have gone a little crazy. He made me so damn–"

The digital phone rang.

"Don't answer it. It's him. I hung up on him and he keeps calling back."

"Turn off the phone."

"Then he'd know he's won."

"Are you sure it's him?"

"It's Dom. I upset him. He wasn't getting what he wanted from me." She picked up the ringing phone and stuffed it in her purse. "He expected more of a payoff from that doll. You might as well give it to Spiro," she said, handing it to him. "See if he can get anything from it or trace it."

"I'll do that." His gaze narrowed on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Other than going temporarily insane, I'm in great shape," she said jerkily. She turned on her heel. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes."

The phone had stopped ringing by the time she had showered and gotten into bed. Maybe he'd given up. Thank God he didn't know the damage he'd almost done. No, that she'd almost done. She had to accept responsibility for her own actions. Anger and frustration were only excuses.

She reached over and turned out the light.

"You shouldn't have done that. I wanted to see you."

Joe was standing in the doorway, a dark figure silhouetted by the light in the hall.

An unmistakably naked figure.

"No," she whispered.

"Too late." He came toward her. "I've been invited."

"I told you I'd made a mistake. I said I was sorry."

"I'm not. You caught me off guard down there and hurt my ego. But once I had time to sort things out, I realized that opportunity was knocking."

"I didn't want to hurt your ego," she said unevenly. "I don't want to hurt you at all, Joe. That's why this can't happen."

"You want it to happen."

"No."

"Dom may have triggered it, but it must have been on your mind or it wouldn't have occurred to you."

"Of course I've been thinking about it. You made sure of that. I'm human, dammit."

"And I mean to make the most of it. It's been a night of revelations. You actually said you wanted to live. That's the first time I've ever heard you say that." He lifted the blanket. "Scoot over. I'm coming in."

His naked thigh touched hers.

She moved over. "It's a mistake, Joe."

His hand covered her breast. "Never."

She couldn't breathe. "Please."

His hand was between her thighs. "Do you know I've never really kissed you?"

She arched upward as his thumb found her. "You're not kissing me now."

"I'll get around to it. I'll get around to everyth– My God, you're ready for me. I thought I'd have to–"

Her digital phone rang.

Joe muttered a curse.

She whispered, "Turn it off."

He started to get off the bed and then stopped. "No." He moved back over her. "I promise you won't hear it soon."

She cried out as he plunged deep within her.

The phone was ringing.

He moved fast, hard.

The phone . . .

He lifted her, crushing her to him as he moved deeper, faster.

Was the phone still ringing?

She no longer heard anything but the beat of his heart against her ear.

"WHY DIDN' T YOU turn off the phone?" she asked drowsily.

"Why do you think?" He kissed her breast. "I was busy. Maybe I didn't want to take the time."

"Tell me."

"Ego. I wanted to be more important to you than Dom. I wanted to beat him." He kissed her nose. "You hurt my feelings a little."

"Not enough to stop you."

"It would have taken a major catastrophe to stop me. Dom doesn't qualify."

"He qualifies."

"He didn't win, did he? Therefore, he's out of the running."

For the time being.

"Stop thinking about him." He reached over, turned on the light, and switched off her phone. "I want to look at you."

She was blushing. "For heaven's sake, give me a blanket, Joe."

He shook his head. "I've wanted to see you like this for too long. Let me have my kicks."

Not when she felt as if she were melting wherever he looked at her. "Turn off the light. Please."

"Not until–" He saw her expression and turned off the light. "Maybe later?"

"Maybe."

"I forgot you're not all that experienced in this sport." He pulled her closer. "But you liked it? You like me?"

She didn't speak.

He was silent a moment. "After ten years I think I deserve the words."

Ten years. She felt tears sting her eyes. "If I weren't afraid you'd be completely impossible, I'd tell you that you were pretty good."

"Pretty good?"

"Very good."

"More."

"A stud, a stallion. Brad Pitt, Keanu Reeves, and Casanova rolled into one. I don't know why Diane ever let you go."

"She was a smart lady. She knew she deserved more than I could give her. It was a mistake from the beginning."

She raised herself on one elbow to look down at him. "Why did you marry her, Joe?"

"It will scare you if I tell you."

"The hell it will."

Silence.

"Why, Joe?"

"For you. I married her for you."

"What?"

"You were too isolated. I thought you needed a friend of your own sex."

"You're kidding."

"I told you it would scare you."

"Men don't get married to provide–"

"I did," he said simply.

She stared at him.

"You were my center. Everything revolved around you. It was a time in my life when I'd almost given up hope of being anything else to you. I thought I'd chosen someone who could give you the companionship you needed. Diane liked the nice things I could give her, and I honestly tried to make a go of our marriage." He shrugged. "It didn't turn out the way I hoped."

"That is scary."

"Obsessions always are." He put his finger on her lower lip. "As you should know, my love."

She stiffened.

"Love," he deliberately repeated. "Get used to it."

"I don't have to get used to anything."

"No, but you might as well. It will be more comfortable for both of us." He paused. "Don't be afraid to love me, Eve. I'm not a helpless child who can be taken from you. I'm tough and mean enough to survive for another fifty years or so."

"I'm not afraid."

"The hell you're not." He lowered his head, his lips barely touching her own. "But that's okay. You don't have to say you love me. I can wait."

"I don't love you. Not the way you want me to love you."

"I think you do." His lips moved back and forth in a gossamer caress. "But if you don't, that's okay too."

"It's not okay. It's all wrong. I'm damaged. No one should know that better than you. You should have someone who–"

"You're damaged? I'm the one who's been obsessed for the last ten years."

"It's not the same. I can't–"

"Shh." He moved over her again. "Don't think. Don't analyze. Let everything fall into place. Enjoy . . ."

HE WAS GONE when she woke.

Emptiness.

Loneliness.

It was stupid. She was acting as if she'd never slept with a man before. Sex, pleasure, departure–it was the way she liked her relationships. No lingering that might interfere with her work.

"Time to get up." Joe opened the door and came toward the bed.

"It's almost noon. I called Charlie and he's on his way back from Azora. He has the photograph."

She sat upright. "Are you sure I'll be able to see it?"

"You can ask Spiro yourself. He's on his way here."

"Why?"

"To pick up the doll."

Of course. "You called him this morning?"

"As soon as I got up. I told the security guys to let him in." He went to the closet. "Hit the shower. I'll get your clothes. What do you want to wear?"

"Anything. Jeans . . . a shirt." She ran into the bathroom and got in the shower. Joe could not have been more cool or businesslike. It was as if last night had never happened. Not that she objected. She would have felt awkward if he'd been any other way. Last night had been too–She shook her head. She didn't want to remember how erotic those hours with Joe had been.

"Come on. You need to eat before Spiro gets here." It was Joe standing outside the glass shower door. "Hurry."

"I am hurrying."

She opened the door, and he enveloped her in a huge bath towel and started patting her dry.

She reached for the towel. "For God's sake, I can do that."

His gaze dropped to her breasts. "I'm enjoying it."

Enjoy.

She felt heat move through her.

"I brought that blue plaid shirt. I like you in blue. Is that okay?"

"I guess so." She should stop him. The lazy movement of his hands beneath the soft towel was incredibly arousing. For some crazy reason the act seemed as intimate as sex. She moistened her lips. "You never told me you liked blue."

"I never told you a lot of things." He bent his head and kissed the hollow of her shoulder. "But I mean to make up for lost time. Want to go back to bed and hear the story of my life?"

Yes, she wanted to go back to bed. "If you promise to tell it. I've never had much luck in getting you to confide in me."

He chuckled. "You wouldn't this time either. We don't have any time." He stepped back and handed her the towel. "Get dressed. I'll wait outside for you."

"Now you tell me to get dressed. Why the hell did you come busting in here and make me–"

"I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn't going to let you make me a one-night stand." He smiled. "You're not going to be able to focus on me for a little while, but I'm going to be around every minute of your day. Don't forget it."

She stared at the door as it closed behind him. How was she supposed to focus on anything else but him? He had brought sensuality back into her life.

She was acting like some nympho. She would not be controlled by either her body or Joe Quinn. She could forget everything but what was important. It would just take will and determination.

She tossed aside the towel and began to dress.

JOE WAS SITTING in the chair beside the bed when she came out of the bathroom. His gaze searched her face and he slowly nodded. "I was expecting that reaction. No problem." He got to his feet. "Let's go down and get you some breakfast."

She had been girded for battle, and it was frustrating to have him sidestep before she could even say a word. "I'm not hungry."

"Okay, then you can watch me eat." He held out his hand and she realized he was holding her digital phone. "But first turn your phone back on. Dom may call and you'll need to talk to him."

Her gaze flew to his face.

"It's time to face him again," he said quietly. "Yes, I want to protect you, but I can't protect you from someone I can't see. We have to bring him out into the open."

"That's what I've been telling you all along."

"I was too scared for you to listen. Now I'm too scared not to listen. You're not going to stop, so I can't stop. We have to finish it. Turn on the phone."

She took the phone and pressed the on button.

It was silent.

Joe smiled. "Now, how's that for anticlimax? I think we both expected an ominous clash of cymbals." He gently pushed her toward the door. "Come on, let's get this show on the road."

Spiro was waiting in the living room when they came downstairs. "Where's the doll?"

"I put it in a box and slid it behind some books on a shelf." Joe crossed the room to the built-in bookcases. "I didn't want Jane to run across it."

"I can't see her flinching," Spiro said dryly. "Your Jane let me in when I rang the doorbell and she gave me the third degree. She even called security to make sure I hadn't leaped over the electric fence."

"Where is she?"

"After grudgingly allowing me to sit down, she said she was going to the kitchen to fix you something to eat." He took the box and glanced at the doll. "Ugly. It must have scared you."

"No. It made me mad."

"Did he make a follow-up call?"

"Yes, I hung up on him."

Spiro looked up. "That might not have been smart."

"I'm tired of being smart and cautious. What about the photograph? Can I see it?"

"Not before it's logged in."

"Can I get a duplicate?"

"Not before it's logged in."

Eve had very little patience left. "What about this Kevin Baldridge?"

Spiro smiled. "According to Charlie, Mrs. Harding remembers Kevin Baldridge and his brothers very well. Kevin was closemouthed about where they were from, but one of his brothers mentioned Dillard."

"Where is that?"

"A small town in northern Arizona."

"Small enough to trace Kevin Baldridge?"

"Maybe. We have to hope the townsfolk have long memories."

"What about his brothers? Even if Kevin Baldridge has moved on, perhaps they might have gone back home."

"It's possible." Spiro stood up. "We'll soon find out. Charlie will call and check on birth and school records after he gets back with the photograph. And I'm heading up to Dillard today."

"Could we come along?"

He shrugged. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. And if Dom is Kevin Baldridge, seeing you invade his turf might trigger him to act." He glanced at Joe. "I'm surprised that didn't arouse a reaction from you. No objections? No accusations that I'm using her?"

Joe ignored the mockery in Spiro's voice. "How soon can we leave?"

"Later this afternoon. I have to go back to the precinct, wait for Charlie, and make sure the photograph is logged in." He paused. "Mark Grunard came to see me at my hotel this morning. He said you were still cooperating with him." His lips tightened. "I told him that doesn't mean I'm cooperating. I've never approved of your involving him."

"He helped me," Eve said. "I owe him."

"I don't owe him and I don't like how he's been hanging around Charlie."

"He could have turned Jane and me in to the police a dozen times and he didn't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because I promised him an exclusive when we get Dom."

"Indeed?" He moved toward the door. "Whatever your deal with him, we're not bringing him along to Dillard."

"I fixed you an egg and bacon sandwich, Eve." Jane stood in the doorway. "Come on."

"I'll be right there."

Jane gave Spiro a cool glance. "He can talk to you while you're eating. Your food will get cold."

"Heaven forbid I interfere with your nourishment." Spiro mockingly bowed to Jane. "You'll be relieved to know I was just on my way out, young lady."

"Wait."

Spiro glanced back at Eve.

"How long will we be gone?"

"A few hours, a day. It depends on how much advance work Charlie is able to do."

"We're taking Jane with us."

Spiro shook his head. "For God's sake, I'm already sticking my neck out enough without being seen with a kidnap victim."

"She has to go with us."

"She's very well protected here."

"I wouldn't mind going without her if it's only for an hour or so. But you're not sure when we'll be back."

"Is taking her with us wise?"

"Dom wants her with me."

Spiro glanced from her to Jane. "But do you want him to see you with her? You're obviously on close terms."

"If Eve wants me, I'm going with her." Jane took a step closer. "And I wasn't kidnapped. How stupid can you get?"

"Evidently very stupid," Spiro said. "I don't recommend it, Eve."

"I'll take care of Eve and Jane," Joe said. "You handle tracking down Kevin Baldridge."

Spiro shook his head. "It's a mistake." He opened the door. "I'll pick you up at four this afternoon."

Was it a mistake? Eve wondered. She didn't want Dom to see her and Jane together, but what could she do? Jane was her responsibility. She couldn't leave her for hours or maybe days; she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Jane. She'd been down that road before.

She turned to Joe. "I have to take her."

"I know." Joe smiled.

"Of course I'm going," Jane said. "We're not going to let him tell us what to do. Now, come on and eat your breakfast." She started down the hall. "And then you can tell me where I'm going."

Chapter FIFTEEN

The small plane landed at a tiny airport north of Dillard, Arizona, at eight-thirty that night. There had been a recent snow in the mountain town, and the weather was icy. The airport had only two runways and the tarmac was bumpy. One taxi was parked outside the terminal.

Spiro got a call from Charlie in the taxi on the way to town. He didn't look pleased by the time he hung up.

"The courthouse burned down six years ago," Spiro said. "And there were no records of any Baldridge children attending the local school."

"Maybe they went to school in a nearby town."

"We're checking Jamison. It's thirty miles from here." He looked out the window. "But the schools will be closed until tomorrow morning. We'll have to stay overnight at a hotel . . . except Charlie said there isn't one. I think Dillard's population is only a little over four thousand."

"Six thousand five hundred," the cabdriver said.

Spiro reached into his pocket and drew out his notebook. "Charlie mentioned a bed and breakfast. Mrs. Tolvey's on Pine Street."

"Good choice," the cabdriver said. "Mrs. Tolvey puts on a great breakfast spread."

"Then that will be fine"–Eve looked at the driver's ID on the panel–"Mr. Brendle." She put her arm around Jane, who was leaning against her. "Anyplace with a bed."

"Bob. Good beds too. Mrs. Tolvey's been running the place for over twenty years, and she changes all the mattresses every five years."

"Incredible," Spiro said.

"Well, they don't get used that often."

"Twenty years," Joe repeated, looking at Spiro. "My, what a coincidence."

"Charlie's a good man. It's a long shot, but still we may find out something from Mrs. Tolvey."