Текст книги "The Killing Game "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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"Not really."

"Then he could have been manipulating you."

"He'd like me to believe it." She smiled bitterly. "That could make it very entertaining for him."

"He knows you're too intelligent to fall for that crap," Joe said.

"He also knows I care about children." Her hands clenched on her lap. "And bones aren't enough for him. What if he's chosen his next victim? What if he can make me a part of the kill, make me the cause of it?"

"Clever," Spiro murmured.

"It's nice to be so detached," Eve said unevenly. "I'm not finding much to admire in the bastard."

"I'm not admiring him, merely assessing his capabilities. And this is all supposition on your part."

"He went to a great deal of trouble to bring me that box."

"And it gave you a great deal of pain. He may regard that as enough return."

She shook her head. "It's just the opening gambit. He hit me with Bonnie. He hit me with the threat to another little girl. And he tried to tie the two together in my mind."

"And did he succeed?" Spiro asked.

"Of course not."

Spiro's gaze narrowed on her face. "Not even a little?"

She looked down. "I wouldn't let him do that to me."

"I hope not."

"We have to find her. We have to find that little girl."

"She may not even exist," Joe said.

"She exists."

"If she did exist, he may already have killed her."

She shook her head. She wouldn't believe that. "I don't think so."

Spiro said, "I'll rush the analysis of the contents of that box and get back to you." He turned to Joe. "I want to know how Dom got that close to the house."

"Don't you think I've asked myself the same question a million times? It shouldn't have happened. But it did. Eve needs more guards."

"This lake curves around like a snake. There's nothing to stop anyone from taking a canoe into one of the inlets and making his way to the cabin. I'd have to set up a two-mile chain of agents to monitor all that lakefront."

"At least get a truckload of equipment out here and trace his calls to Eve."

"I don't know how much good it will do," Spiro said. "But I agree that–"

"No," Eve said.

They both looked at her.

"If he finds out we're trying to trace the calls, he may not call again. I have to talk to him."

Joe muttered a curse.

"You know I have to do it, Joe."

"Oh, yes, he's got you, dammit."

"And what if he doesn't call you?" Spiro asked.

"He'll call again. Soon." She lifted her head. "He wants me to know who the girl is."

"You know who she is. He already told you her name and her age."

"That was just a tease. Enough to make me worry but not enough for me to find her. We have to find her."

"Then it's your responsibility to convince Dom to tell you more," Spiro said.

Her responsibility. That was what Dom wanted, for her to be responsible for the life of that child. For her to try to save a little girl she didn't even know.

Her name is Jane.

And she was only ten years old. Too young to know how to fight the monster stalking her.

Just a little girl. She'd be helpless. . . .

JANE' S FIST LANDED squarely on Chang's nose and blood spurted. "Give it back."

Chang screamed and clutched his nose. "Fay, Janie hit me. I didn't do nothing and Janie hit me."

"Jane, stop it," Fay called from the kitchen. "And, Chang, quit tattling."

"Give it back," Jane said through gritted teeth.

"Thief. Crook." Chang backed away. "I'm going to tell Fay and she'll have you put in jail."

"Give–it–back." She punched him in the stomach and then grabbed the apple that dropped from his hand. She was halfway across the room when Fay said, "Stop right there, Jane."

Sighing, she stopped in her tracks. Bad luck. A few seconds more and she would have been out the front door.

"She stole an apple from the fridge. She's been stealing stuff for the last two days." Chang smiled maliciously. "You gonna have her arrested, Fay?"

"What kind of stuff?" Fay asked.

"Food. I saw her put a sandwich in her schoolbag yesterday."

"Is that true, Jane?"

Jane didn't answer.

"And she punched me."

"Be quiet, Chang. For heaven's sake, you're two inches taller than she is."

"You said I shouldn't fight," he said, sulking.

"I also said you shouldn't tattle, but you do it." Fay dug into her pocket and handed him a tissue. "Go on. You'll be late for school."

Chang wiped his nose. "Jane was late yesterday."

"Jane's never late for school."

"She was late yest–" He met Jane's warning gaze and backed toward the door. "Ask her." He bolted out of the house.

Fay crossed her arms over her chest. "So I'm asking you."

"I was late."

"Why?"

"I had something to do."

"What?"

Jane was silent.

"Have you been stealing food?"

"Not much."

"You know I have a tough time stretching the food budget for the three of you."

"I won't eat tomorrow."

"You don't eat enough now. It's Chang and Raoul who are always hungry. Which brings me to ask why you stole food, when half the time I can't get you to eat my dinners."

Jane didn't answer.

"When I was in the fourth grade there was a bully who made me give him my lunch every day. I'd understand if you–"

"No one made me do it."

Fay smiled faintly. "And if they tried, you'd punch them in the nose."

Jane nodded.

"If you have a problem, it might help if you talk to me."

"I don't have a problem."

"And you wouldn't tell me if you did. Why do I even try?" Fay wearily brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. "Go on. You'll be late."

Jane hesitated. It would be harder to get food now. Could she trust Fay? "May I keep the apple?"

"If you tell me why."

"Someone needs it."

"Who?"

"He can't go home right now. His father's there."

"Who?"

"Could I bring him here?"

"A child? Jane, you know I can't accept any more children. But if he's having trouble at home, we can call Family Services and see if they can intercede with his parents."

She should have known Fay wouldn't understand. "They won't help. They'll go see them and then they'll leave and make a report. It would make it worse for him."

"Who is this? Tell me."

Jane started for the door.

"Jane, I want to help you. Trust me. You're going to get into trouble."

"I'll be okay. I won't be late for school again."

"That's not what I mean." Fay was looking helplessly at her. "I want to be your friend. Why can't I get through to you? Why do you keep everything bottled up inside?"

"Could I have the apple?"

"I shouldn't let you–Oh, go ahead, take it. But I don't want you punching Chang again."

"Okay." Jane opened the door and ran down the steps. That she had made Fay unhappy made her feel bad. For a moment she had thought Fay would understand and help her, but she should have known better. You couldn't count on anyone to help you. You had to do it yourself.

At least Fay had not made her give up the apple the way some grown-ups would have. But there would be no more food for Mike from Fay's refrigerator. She would have to find it somewhere else.

Her forehead creased in a frown as she began to consider how she would do it.

Chapter SIX

Dom made Eve wait over forty-eight hours before he called again.

"Did you like my gift?" he asked.

"I hated it. You knew I would."

"But how could you hate your own flesh and blood? Oops, slip of the tongue. No flesh, no blood, just bone."

"Who is she?"

"I told you, it's your Bonnie."

"No, you know who I mean. Who is this Jane?"

"Well, she may be your Bonnie too. Have you thought about the possibility of–"

"What's her last name?"

"She's not as pretty but she has the same red hair. Unfortunately, she's had a rougher time this go-around than when she was your Bonnie. Four foster homes." He clucked regretfully. "So sad."

"Where is she?"

"You'd recognize the place."

She felt a sudden chill. A grave? "Is she alive?"

"Of course."

"Do you have her?"

"No, so far I've only been observing her. I find her very interesting. You will too, Eve."

"Tell me her last name. Dammit, I know you want me to know."

"But you have to earn it. It's part of the game. Don't try to bring the police into it or I'll be very unhappy. I'm sure your maternal instincts will lead you to little Jane. Find her, Eve. Before I become impatient." He hung up.

She punched the end button.

"No luck?" Joe asked.

She stood up. "We're going to Atlanta."

"What the hell?"

"He said I'd recognize the place where she can be found. I know Atlanta better than any other place. Do you have contacts with child welfare?"

He shook his head.

"Do you know anyone else who can help us? He said she'd been in four foster homes. There have to be records."

"We can try Mark Grunard. I don't know anyone who's better at digging out information, and he has contacts everywhere."

"Will you call him?"

"Look, the Atlanta PD will help now. They have no choice, not after the Devon ID."

"He doesn't want me to bring in the police. He wants me to find her. It's like some kind of game to him."

"Will you stay here and let me go and look for her?"

"I told you, that's not what he wants. He wants me to search for her. It has to be me."

"Then don't give the bastard what he wants."

"And have him send me her head in a box?" she asked unevenly. "I can't risk that. I have to find her and find her quick."

"Okay, but I'm going with you." He reached for the phone. "Go pack a toothbrush and a change of clothes. I'll call Mark and tell him what we need so he can get started on it."

"Set up a meeting with him. Dom's got to see me making the effort to find her. He'll be watching me."

"That's no problem. I told you I'd promised Mark you'd see him as soon as possible. I'll have him meet us at my apartment in the city."

JOE' S APARTMENT WAS in a luxury high-rise across the street from Piedmont Park. He drove down into the secured gated parking garage and they took the elevator to the seventh floor.

"It's about time, Joe. I've been waiting almost an hour." Mark Grunard grinned at them. "Don't you realize I'm an important man in this town?" He extended his hand to Eve. "I'm glad to see you again, Ms. Duncan. Though I'm sorry it's in these circumstances."

"So am I." She shook his hand. He appeared almost the same as she remembered him–tall, fit, with a charming smile. Perhaps in his early fifties, he showed the years with a few more laugh lines around his blue eyes. "But I'm glad you've agreed to help us."

"I'd be an idiot otherwise. This is big stuff. It's not often I get a chance at an exclusive that could net me an Emmy."

"What about your fellow reporters?" Joe asked. "Are we going to be safe here?"

"I think so. I laid a false trail to Daytona Beach in the newscast last night. Just don't be stupid." He frowned. "I contacted Barbara Eisley about our problem. She's head of Child and Family Services. It's not going to be easy. She says all files are private."

Red tape, Eve thought with frustration. A child could be murdered while they dithered about blasted rules. "Can't you persuade her?"

"Barbara Eisley's a tough nut. She'd make a great drill sergeant. Can you get a court order?"

Joe shook his head. "We can't go through the system. Eve's afraid Dom will move on the little girl if we do."

"Barbara Eisley has got to help," Eve said.

"I said it's not going to be easy, I didn't say impossible," Grunard said. "We just have to use a little persuasion."

"Could I see Ms. Eisley?"

Grunard nodded. "I thought you'd feel like that. We're taking her to dinner tonight." He held up his hand as Joe opened his mouth to protest. "I know, Eve can't go where she'll be recognized. I have a friend who owns an Italian restaurant on the Chattahoochee just outside the city. He'll give us good pasta and complete privacy. Okay?"

"Okay." Joe unlocked his apartment door. "Pick us up across the street, inside the park, at six."

"I'll be there."

Eve watched Grunard walk toward the elevators before she followed Joe into the apartment. "He appears very"–she searched for the word–"solid."

"That's why he's so popular." He locked the door and Eve looked around the apartment.

"Good God, you could have done better than this, Joe. It looks like a hotel room."

He shrugged. "I told you I didn't do much more than sleep here." He headed for the kitchen. "I'll make coffee and sandwiches. I doubt if we're going to eat much at that dinner with Barbara Eisley."

She followed him into the kitchen. She doubted she could eat much now either, but she'd have to. She needed all her strength. "I think I may have met Eisley before."

"When?"

"Years ago. When I was a kid. There was one caseworker . . ." She shook her head. "Maybe not."

"You don't remember?"

"I've blocked a lot of that time out of my memory." She made a face. "It wasn't a very pleasant period. Mom and I were moving from place to place and every month the welfare department was threatening to take me away from Mom and put me in a foster home if she didn't get off the crack." She opened the refrigerator door. "Everything in here is spoiled, Joe."

"Then I'll make toast."

"If the bread's not moldy."

"Don't be pessimistic." He opened the bread box. "It's just a little stale." He popped bread into the toaster on the counter. "Considering what you went through as a kid, you might have been better off in a foster home."

"Maybe. But I didn't want to go. Back then there were times I hated her, but she was my mother. To a child, family always seems better than strangers." She got the butter from the refrigerator. "That's why it's so difficult to take abused children from their parents. They want to believe everything's going to be all right."

"And sometimes it's not."

"Evidently, it wasn't for this Jane. Not if she's been in four foster homes." She went to the window and looked down into the street. "You don't realize how rough it is out there for kids, Joe."

"I realize. I'm a cop. I've seen it."

"But you haven't been there." She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Rich boy."

"Don't be snooty. I couldn't help it. I tried to get my parents to abandon me, but they wouldn't do it. They sent me to Harvard instead." He plugged in the coffeemaker. "It could have been worse; they were thinking about sending me to Oxford."

"Terrible fate." She looked back out the window. "You never talk about your parents. They died when you were in college, didn't they?"

He nodded. "Boating accident off Newport."

"Why don't you talk about them?"

"Nothing to talk about."

She turned to him. "Dammit, Joe, you didn't spring fully grown in Atlanta. I've tried dozens of times to get you to tell me about your folks and the way you grew up. Why do you keep dodging?"

"It's not important."

"It's as important as the way I grew up."

He smiled. "Not to me."

"You're only fifty percent of this friendship. You know everything about me. Stop shutting me out."

"I don't believe in living in the past."

"How the hell can I really know you if you won't talk to me?"

"Don't be crazy. You know me." He chuckled. "For God's sake, we've been together more than ten years."

He was dodging again. "Joe."

He shrugged. "You want to know about my parents? I didn't know them very well. They stopped being interested in me about the time I stopped being a cute little tyke." He got down cups from the cabinet. "Can't blame them. I was never an easy kid. Too demanding."

"I can't imagine you demanding anything. You're too self-reliant."

"Imagine it. Accept it." He poured coffee into the cups. "I'm still demanding as hell. I've just learned ways of camouflaging it. Sit down and eat your toast."

"You never demand anything of me."

"I demand your friendship. I demand your company. Most of all, I demand that you stay alive."

"Those are the most unselfish demands I've ever heard."

"Don't you believe it. I'm probably the most selfish man you've ever met."

She smiled as she shook her head. "No way."

"I'm glad I've got you fooled. But someday you'll find out how I've deceived you all these years. You slum brats just can't trust us rich kids."

"You've switched the conversation around to me again. Why do you keep doing that?"

"I'm bored with me." He yawned. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a very dull fellow."

"The hell you are."

"Well, I have to agree that I'm witty and supremely intelligent, but my background's pretty mundane." He sat down opposite Eve. "Now, what about Barbara Eisley? What do you remember?"

Stubborn bastard, he'd told her as much as he was going to. She gave up as she had so many times before. "I told you, I'm not sure I knew her. There were so many caseworkers and, hey, they never stayed long in the job. Can't blame them. Techwood wasn't the safest neighborhood."

"Think."

"Bully." Okay, stop avoiding thinking about that hellhole where she had grown up. She let the memory flow back to her. Dirt. Hunger. Rats. The smell of fear and sex and drugs. "She might have been one of the caseworkers. I remember one woman in her late thirties. I thought she was old. She came to one of the houses on Market Street. I think I was nine or ten. . . ."

"Sympathetic?"

"I think so. Maybe. I was too defensive to judge. I was angry at Mom and the whole world."

"Then you may have trouble bonding with her tonight."

"I don't have to bond with her. I just have to convince her to open those files and help us find that child. There's no time."

"Easy." His hand covered hers on the table. "One way or the other, we'll get the records tonight."

She tried to smile. "I suppose if she won't help, you'll pull a Watergate at the welfare office?"

"Possibly."

He meant it. Her smile faded. "No, Joe. I don't want you to get into trouble."

"Hey, if you're good, you don't get caught. You don't get caught, you're not in trouble."

"Simplistic."

"The whole world should be so simple. I'd say the life of a kid is worth a little risk. If you're persuasive enough, it may not be necessary for me to turn burglar. Who knows, Barbara Eisley may not be as tough as Mark claims. She could be a pussycat."

"HELL, NO," Barbara Eisley said. "I don't open those records for anyone. I'm up for my pension next year and I'm not taking any chances."

Barbara Eisley was definitely no pussycat, Eve thought in discouragement. From the moment Grunard had introduced them, she'd avoided talking about the files. When Joe finally pinned her down after dessert, she responded with the bluntness of a hammer blow.

"Now, Barbara." Grunard smiled at her. "You know that no one is going to jerk your pension for a little infringement involving a child's life. Besides, you've been with the department too long."

"Bull. I'm not diplomatic enough for the mayor or city council. They're just waiting for a reason to bounce me out of my job. The only reason I've lasted this long is that I know where a couple of political bodies are buried." She stared accusingly at Mark. "And you quoted me on that child abuse case two years ago. It made my department look negligent."

"But it caused extensive reform. That's what you wanted."

"And put my ass in hot water. I should have kept my mouth shut. I don't take risks like that anymore. I do everything by the book. I help you do this today, and tomorrow they find a way to use it against me. I'm not going to end up without a pension. I've visited too many old people in public housing trying to survive. That's not going to be me."

"Then why did you accept Mark's invitation?" Joe asked.

"Free dinner." She shrugged. "And I was curious." She turned to Eve. "I've read about you, but the media is sometimes full of hot air. I wanted to see for myself how you'd turned out. Do you remember me?"

"I think so. But you've changed."

"So have you." She studied Eve's face. "You were a tough little kid. I remember I tried to talk to you once and you just stared at me. I thought you'd be hooking or dealing by the time you were fourteen. I would have liked to have made another try with you, but I had too many cases." She added wearily, "There are always too many cases. Too many kids. And most of the time we can't help them. We take them away and the court gives them right back to their parents."

"But you try."

"Because I'm too stupid to give up hope. You'd think after all these years I'd learn, wouldn't you? You turned out all right, but it was nothing I did."

"You must make a difference sometimes."

"I guess so."

"You could make a difference this time. You could save a little girl."

"Get a court order. If it's that important, there should be no problem."

"We can't do that. I've told you I can't go through channels."

Barbara Eisley was silent.

"Okay, you won't give us the records, but maybe you remember something about this child," Joe said.

An undefinable expression crossed her face. "I don't handle casework any longer. I have too much paperwork."

Eve leaned forward. "But you do remember something."

Eisley was silent a moment. "I had to authorize taking a little girl out of a foster home two years ago. The couple who was caring for her claimed she was disruptive and disobedient. I had to bring the child in and interview her. She wouldn't talk to me, but she was covered with bruises. I checked her medical record and she'd been taken to Grady Hospital twice with broken bones during the last year. I gave permission for her to be removed from the home. I also removed the foster parents from our rolls." She smiled. "I remember thinking she must have been a gutsy little kid. She kept on giving those bastards hell."

"What's her name?"

She ignored Eve's question. "She was a smart kid. High IQ, did well in school. She probably figured they'd give her up as a meal ticket if she caused enough trouble."

"You placed her with another family?"

"We had no choice. Most of our foster parents aren't abusive. Sometimes we make mistakes. We can only do our best."

"Tell me her name."

Eisley shook her head. "Not without a court order. What if I was wrong?"

"What if you were right? She could die, dammit."

"I've spent my entire life trying to help kids. Now I've got to think of myself."

"Please."

She shook her head again. "I've worked too hard. I still work hard." She paused. "You'd think in my position I wouldn't have to take work home." She nodded at her briefcase beside her chair. "But I had some old files on a computer disk to review, so here I go again."

Hope flared inside Eve. "That's too bad."

"It goes with the territory." She stood up. "It's been an interesting evening. Sorry I can't help you." She smiled. "I believe I have to go to the rest room. I suppose you'll be gone when I come back. I hope you find the little girl." Her gaze narrowed on Eve. "I just remembered, the kid reminded me a little of you. She stared at me with those big eyes and I thought she'd go on the attack any minute. Same tough little–Something wrong?"

Eve shook her head.

Barbara Eisley turned to Mark. "Thanks for dinner. But I still haven't forgiven you for quoting me in that story." She turned and made her way through the tables toward the rest room.

"Thank God." Eve reached for the briefcase. It was unlocked and there was only one disk in the leather pocket on the side. Bless Barbara Eisley. She tucked it in her purse. "She wants us to take it."

"You mean steal it," Joe murmured as he threw some bills down on the table.

"Which puts her in the clear." Eve turned to Mark. "Do you have a laptop with you?"

"In the trunk of my car. I always keep it there. We can check the disk as soon as we reach the parking lot."

"Good. You'll have to drop into Barbara Eisley's office tomorrow and leave the disk on her desk. I don't want to get her into trouble." She stood up. "Let's go. We need to be out of here before she comes back. She might change her mind."

"Not likely," Joe said. "It's pretty clear you impressed her when you were a kid."

"Or Jane did." She started for the door. "Or maybe she's just a woman trying to do the right thing in a wrong world."

THERE WERE TWENTY-SEVEN records on the disk. It took Mark twenty minutes to scan the first sixteen.

"Jane MacGuire," Mark read from the computer screen. "The age is right. Four foster homes. Physical description checks out. Red hair, hazel eyes."

"Can you print it out?"

Mark plugged a small Kodak printer into the laptop. "She's living right now with a Fay Sugarton who's also foster parent to two other children. Chang Ito, twelve, and Raoul Jones, thirteen."

"The address?"

"Twelve forty-eight Luther." He tore off the printout and handed it to her. "Do you want me to get out my street map?"

Eve shook her head. "I know where it is." Dom had said she would recognize the place. "It's in my old neighborhood. Let's go."

"You want to go see her tonight?" Joe asked. "It's almost midnight. I doubt if this Fay Sugarton will take kindly to being awakened by strangers."

"I don't care how she takes it. I don't want–"

"And what are you going to say when you do see her?"

"What do you think? I'm going to tell her about Dom and ask her to let us keep Jane until the danger is over."

"It will take some persuasion to make her do that if she cares anything about the kid."

"Then you'll have to help me. We can't leave her in a place where–"

"You're going to need Fay Sugarton's cooperation," Joe said quietly. "You don't want to get off on the wrong foot."

Okay, be sensible. Dom had set up the elaborate ploy because he wanted her to make contact with Jane MacGuire. He probably wouldn't make a move until she'd–

Probably? God, was she risking a child's life on probabilities? He could be at that house on Luther Street right then. "I want to go tonight."

"It would be better–" Mark began.

She cut him off. "I just want to make sure everything's okay there. I won't go inside and wake everyone up."

Mark shrugged and started the car. "Whatever you say."

THE HOUSE ON Luther Street was small and gray paint was peeling from the porch steps. But the rest of the house appeared neat and well cared for. Cheerful fake greenery hung from plastic baskets on the porch.

"Satisfied?" Mark asked.

The street was deserted. No cars cruising, no one stirring. Eve wasn't satisfied, but she felt a little better. "I guess so."

"Good. Then I'll drive you and Joe to his apartment and come back to watch the house."

"No. I'll stay here."

"I was expecting that." Joe reached for his phone. "I'll call for an unmarked car to park out here tonight and have the officer go in immediately if he sees anything out of the ordinary. Okay?"

"I'll stay here too," Mark said.

She looked at the two of them, undecided. And then she opened the car door. "Okay. If you hear or see anything, you call us."

"You're going to walk? Let me run you home."

"We'll get a taxi."

"In this neighborhood?"

"So we'll walk until we get to where we can find one. I don't want you leaving here."

Mark looked at Joe. "Will you please tell her she shouldn't be wandering this neighborhood? It's too dangerous."

"Jane MacGuire wanders around this neighborhood every day of her life," Eve pointed out. "She manages to survive." Just as Eve had survived all those years ago. Jesus, it was all coming back to her.

"The car will be here in five minutes." Joe had finished his call and he and Eve got out of the car. "Don't worry, I'll take care of Eve," he told Mark. "Or maybe I'll let her take care of me. This is her turf."

"We'll be back at eight in the morning." Eve started down the street. Nothing really changed around here. The grass growing in the cracks in the sidewalk, the dirty words chalked on the pavement.

"And how do we get back to civilization from here?" Joe asked as he fell in beside her.

"This is civilization, rich boy," Eve said. "The real wilds are four blocks south. You'll notice I'm heading north."

"And where did you live?"

"South. You're a cop. You must be familiar with this area."

"Not on foot. They shoot at cops in this part of town . . . when they're not killing each other."

"'They.' The mysterious 'they.' We're not all criminals down here. We have to live and survive just like anyone else. Why the hell do you–"

"Hold it. You know damn well who I was talking about. Why are you jumping on me?"

He was right. "Sorry. Forget it."

"I don't think we'd better forget it. You were talking as if you were still living in one of those houses on Luther Street."

"I was never lucky enough to live on Luther Street. I told you, this is uptown."

"You know what I mean."

She did know. "I haven't been down here since we moved out after Bonnie was born. I didn't think I'd react like this."

"Like what?"

"I was feeling like the kid I was all those years ago." She smiled ruefully. "I was on the attack."

"That's how Barbara Eisley described Jane MacGuire."

"Maybe she has a right to want to strike first."

"I don't doubt she has every right. I'm merely suggesting that you analyze what being back here has done to you. It's you against the world again." He added deliberately, "Or maybe you and Jane MacGuire against the world."

"Nonsense. I've never even met the child."

"Maybe you shouldn't meet her. Why don't you let me go see her alone in the morning."

She turned to face him. "What are you saying?"

"Why did Dom choose someone from this neighborhood? Why did he bring you back here? Think about it."

She walked in silence for a moment. "He wants me to identify with her," she whispered. Christ, she was already identifying with the little girl. She and Jane had walked the same streets, suffered abandonment and hardship, fought their way through loneliness and hurt. "He's setting me up. First talking to me about reincarnation and then choosing Jane MacGuire. He's not satisfied with killing a child and laying the guilt on my doorstep. He wants me emotionally involved with her."

"That's the way I figure it."

Bastard. "He wants me to feel as if he's killing my daughter all over again." Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "He wants to kill Bonnie again."