Текст книги "Body of Lies "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“If we find out there’s a problem, I can always stop and go home.” But she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t intend to go back and face the very situation she’d run away from. She wanted to work until she dropped, and then work some more.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to bolt out of here? I’ll call and see if I can get us tickets to Atlanta.”

“Us?”

“My job’s not finished. I stay with you until I’m sure there’s no more danger.”

“I’m not walking around for any extended length of time with a bodyguard, Galen.”

“Just until I’m sure. The airport?”

Eve thought about it. She wasn’t one to undervalue the power of instinct, but there was no firm reason to think she wouldn’t be able to finish this job safely. True, her food poisoning was worrying, but she was well guarded now by both Galen and the men she had seen about the grounds of the church this morning.

And she didn’t like the idea of someone killing a man like the one Galen had described and walking away from it without being punished. You couldn’t punish a crime without identifying a victim—and that was her job.

“Not until I’m sure that there’s a reason to go.” She turned back to the skull.

“Now go away for a while. I need to get to work.”

“He’s pretty filthy.” Galen touched the mud on Victor’s forehead. “Funny-looking dirt, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “Dirt is dirt.”

“Are you going to be able to get it all off him?”

“The majority of it. I’m not going to try to get it out of all the cavities. I might cause more breakage.” She made a shooing motion. “Go. I want to get a start on cleaning up Victor before it’s time for you to take me to Marie’s funeral.”

“You’re still going?”

“Why shouldn’t I? One, it could have been an accident. Two, if it wasn’t, maybe someone else slipped something into the ingredients Marie brought to the house. If she’s innocent, then she was killed to keep her from talking, or to make my attack look more accidental. Not a pretty thought, is it?”

“Murder is even less pretty.” Galen smiled. “But you want to believe the best of Marie. So we’ll go to the funeral. It can’t hurt.” After Galen left, Eve turned back to Victor and began to carefully scrape the dirt from his skull.

It’s funny dirt.

She paused and stared at it. It was strange-looking. Minute white chips seemed to be imbedded in rich black mud, making it appear lighter.

Forget it. Maybe all the dirt in Sheriff Bouvier’s parish was like this. If it wasn’t, then the police must have noticed it. It wasn’t her business. Just get it off and do your job.

Marie Letaux’s son, Pierre, was tall and good-looking and clearly devastated by his mother’s death. He was surrounded by friends and relatives when Eve approached him after the ceremony at the small church.

Eve held out her hand. “I’m Eve Duncan. I’d like to express my condolences. I didn’t know your mother well, but I may have been the last person to see her. Did she tell you that she was taking a job with me?” Pierre nodded. “She was excited. She knew you were someone important.”

“Not really.”

“Mr. Tanzer said that you were famous. She liked the idea of working for a woman who’d made something of her life.” His eyes filled with tears. “Mama wanted to be famous. I didn’t tell her, but after I get out of medical school and set up practice I was going to set her up with her own restaurant. I should have told her.” His voice broke. “I wish I’d told her. It was going to be a surprise.”

“She knew you loved her. She was very proud of you.” Eve glanced at the flower-draped coffin, which had been placed in a gray hearse. “She wanted so much for you to finish your education.”

Pierre nodded jerkily. “She was always thinking of ways to help me. She called me the night before she died and told me not to worry, that she’d worked out a way to get the money for my tuition. That everything was going to be fine.”

“She did?”

He nodded, his gaze shifting to the coffin. “I’m sorry, I have to go now.”

“Of course. I hope everything goes well for you in the future.”

“I can’t think of anything but Mama now. It’s very difficult for me. I thought my heart would break when I was going through her things last night. So many memories…” He tried to smile. “But I go back to school tomorrow, and I’ll try very hard to make something of myself that would have made her proud. I thank you for your good wishes.” He turned and moved toward the hearse.

“Nice kid.” Galen had moved forward to stand beside her.

She watched the hearse move slowly through the cemetery toward the grave where Marie would be buried. “Yes.”

He took her elbow. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, her gaze still on the hearse. “Did you hear what he said about the call from his mother?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You’ll make up your own mind. I hate to say I told you so.”

“It may not mean anything.” Her hands clenched into fists. “Dammit, I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t.”

“On the other hand, young Letaux may find a pleasant surprise when he opens her safety-deposit box.” Galen gently nudged Eve toward his car. ”Now how about having lunch and a little tour of the city before I take you back to the house? I think you need to unwind.“

“Okay.” She took a final glance over her shoulder at the hearse, and Marie’s son, who was going to say his final good-bye to the mother he loved. And Marie had loved him, too.

Enough to do this terrible thing for his sake?

“Stop worrying,” Galen said. “Never ruin a good meal with bad thoughts. Tell me about your daughter, Jane. I heard she took over my nursing duty last year after I left Sarah Patrick’s cabin in Phoenix. Don’t deflate my ego by saying she did as good a job as I did.”

“Well, Sarah must have thought she did pretty well. Jane got a puppy out of it.”

“Do you consider that bad or good?”

Eve smiled. “It’s good. The puppy is pure Monty… I hope. I haven’t seen any signs of anything savage about Toby.”

“Too bad. I’ve never seen anything wrong with a little dash of the tiger. It makes the mix more interesting.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I believe you do. You chose Quinn.”

Yes, Joe had more than a little tiger in him, but she’d not seen it in the last year.

She had seen nothing but love and companionship and togetherness. It had been magic. No, better than magic, because it had been honest and real.

At least she’d thought it had been honest.

She smothered the ripple of pain. Would she ever be able to think about Joe without that hurt? She changed the subject. “Where are we going to eat? Nothing heavy. My stomach still feels like it’s taken a beating from Evander Holyfield.” The safety-deposit box.

Eve sat up straight in bed, her heart pounding. “Galen!”

“I hear you,” Galen called from the next room. He was there in seconds. “What’s wrong? Did you see any—”

“The safety-deposit box. I was asleep, but I woke up and it was—”

“Slow down. Get your breath.” He sat down on the bed beside her and set the revolver he’d carried on the nightstand. “A nightmare?”

“No. It must have been in the back of my mind and it—Marie’s safety-deposit box.

You thought there was probably a bribe in it, and whoever poisoned me was trying to make sure to make it look like an accident. It was important to him not to draw attention to why it was being done.”

“And?”

“Pierre, her son. He was going back to New Orleans tomorrow morning. He wanted to be done with all these details. There’s a good chance he would have gone to the bank this afternoon and tried to tie up all her affairs. If there was a huge amount in that safety-deposit box, it would have sent up a red flag, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re thinking someone might want to stop him from reporting that money.” Eve moistened her lips. “Oh, God, I hope not.” She got to her feet. “I want to go to see him. I’m getting dressed. Will you call Marie’s house and see if you can reach him?”

“Do you have the number?”

“No.”

“I’ll call information.” Galen reached for the phone on the nightstand and turned on the light.

She blinked. “You’re naked.”

“You screamed. I wasn’t about to take the time to get dressed.” He spoke into the phone and then glanced over his shoulder. “Get moving.” She didn’t need to be told twice. She hurried out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

When she came back five minutes later, Galen was coming out of his room, tucking his shirt into his khakis. “Pierre didn’t answer.” He glanced at her. “Look, this may be a false alarm, but when we get there, I’m in charge. You don’t do anything until I tell you to do it. Okay?”

“I hear you. Just hurry.”

No one answered the knock.

“He could have decided to leave early,” Galen said. “Or perhaps staying here brought back too many memories.”

“I don’t like it,” Eve said. “Is the door locked?”

“Yes.” Galen bent over the knob for a moment. “But if it will make you feel better…” The door swung open. “I go in first. You stay out here until I call you. If you see anything, you call me.”

“I want to—” Eve nodded impatiently. “Hurry. If he’s not here, I need to track him down at a hotel.”

“I’ll hurry.” Galen disappeared into the house.

She didn’t want to wait outside. She glanced uneasily over her shoulder at the windows of the houses on either side of the street. Dark, silent.

Watching.

Foolishness. No one was watching.

“Come in.” Galen was back. “It’s safe.”

“Is he here?”

“He’s here.” He shut the door. “But you may not want to see him. He’s not a pretty sight. His head’s half blown off.”

Shock jolted through her. “What?”

“There at the desk across the room.”

The lights were off, but she could dimly see a figure slumped at the desk.

“Pierre?”

“As far as I could tell.”

“Murdered.”

“It’s staged to look like a suicide. The gun’s still in his hand. He may have actually pulled the trigger.”

“Like Marie was forced to eat the stew,” she said dully.

“Right.”

“I want to see him.”

“You’re sure?”

“It won’t be the first corpse I’ve seen, Galen.”

“I know, but I have to fight my protective instincts.” He nicked on the lamp by the door. “Don’t touch anything.”

Blood and brain matter were splattered everywhere. She forced herself to walk forward until she stood in front of the desk. Several framed pictures of Pierre’s mother were spread on the desk in front of him. To one side lay a pile of letters spattered with blood.

“It looks”—she swallowed hard to ease the tightness of her throat—“as if he was going through her things.”

“And became despondent and took his own life. Everyone at the funeral would testify to how distraught he was. Very nicely staged. Or do you believe he’d actually do this?”

Eve shook her head. “He wanted to make all her hard work worthwhile. He wouldn’t—” She had to get out of here. She turned and headed for the door. “It wasn’t him—somebody else did this.”

“That’s what I thought.” Galen followed her, stopping only to wipe his prints off the lamp and the doorknob while she waited outside. “But the verdict will probably be suicide.”

She drew a deep shaky breath as she reached the street. “We could tell the police about Marie.”

“With no real evidence but those bruises? You didn’t want to believe Marie Letaux’s death wasn’t an accident.”

“I suppose he did go to the bank today,” she said dully.

“I doubt if he’d be dead if he hadn’t discovered the safety-deposit box with the money. He must have had time to look through it, or he wouldn’t have been a threat.”

“He was so young…”

“Yeah, it sucks.” Galen took Eve’s elbow. “Let’s get out of here. If anyone sees us around, they might decide it wasn’t suicide and zero in on us as suspects. You might be above suspicion, but I’m not.”

“Sit down.” Galen pushed Eve into one of the kitchen chairs and put on the kettle.

“I’ll make you some coffee.”

“I’m okay.” She was lying. She wasn’t okay. All she could think about was that beautiful young man who was now no longer beautiful. Pierre, whose years had been cut short in that brutal fashion.

“Then keep me company.” He switched on the stove, then took down the instant coffee. “I’m very sensitive. Blood always upsets me.” She tried to smile. “Liar.”

“I am sensitive. There’s just a layer of scar tissue.” He got down two cups from the shelf and spooned in the coffee. “And blood is… messy. To be spilled only when necessary. There are so many neater ways.” He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. “That got you. Did you expect me to soothe you? You’re too tough for that.”

“Am I?”

“Sure. Of course, Quinn would probably comfort you. But you wouldn’t take it from me.” He poured boiling water into the cups and sat down across from her. “So take a cup of coffee instead.”

In spite of what he said, he was trying to comfort her. She took a sip. “I’m surprised a gourmet like you would tolerate instant coffee.”

“It was quick.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I can tolerate anything. I’m used to making do.”

“It’s good.” She took another sip. “I… did need it. I guess I’m pretty shaky. I hate death. We fight and we fight and there’s still nothing we can do about it.”

“Sometimes there is. Personally, I intend to live until I’m at least a hundred and fifty. I figure with all the research going on I could still be spry at that age.”

“Pierre was so young. There’s something even more terrible about the young dying.”

“Like your Bonnie.”

“Yes.” Eve looked down into the coffee in her cup. “Like my little girl.” Galen was silent.

Eve drew a shaky breath. “And I hate the monsters who take those youngsters’

lives. I want to reach out and get them by the throat. I want to scream at them how unfair it is for them to steal all those bright, wonderful years away. It’s cruel and ugly– Shit.” Tears were running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Galen was kneeling beside her chair. “Hey, don’t do this to me.” He took her in his arms and rocked her back and forth. “You’re tearing up all my scar tissue.” He felt her stiffen against him, and immediately released her and sat back on his heels.

“Let’s get this straight right now. I’m not trying to take advantage of a bad moment.

It’s my natural instincts again. A woman weeps and I react.” He looked directly in her eyes. “But I know the difference between a vulnerable moment and the real thing. I like you, I respect you, and, if I let myself, I’d find you sexy. But you’re not available. It’s so clear that you might as well be carrying around a sign. So I’m your protector, your friend, and sometimes a shoulder to lean on. Got it?” She smiled shakily. “Got it.”

He smiled. “At least that little misunderstanding accomplished one thing. You’re not crying anymore.” He breathed a theatrical sigh of relief. “I can’t take tears. They lay me low.”

“I’ll remember that. It may come in handy.” She stood up. “I’m going to bed. I have an early start tomorrow.”

Galen looked at his watch. “Tomorrow’s already here. The airport?”

“Hell, no.” She started for the door. “They’re not going to get away with killing that boy. They’re going to pay for it. I’m going to give Victor a face.” Chapter 7

« ^ »

" MAY I COME IN?” GALEN ASKED.

Eve glanced up from the skull. “If you don’t talk to me.”

“Just a few words. Where’s Rick?”

She shrugged. “Around somewhere. He brought me coffee a couple hours ago.

Why?”

“Just checking. He’s usually so attentive he makes me worry about losing my job.”

“He may be attentive, but he’s quiet and unobtrusive. I hardly know he’s around.”

“I doubt you’d notice if he ran around banging on a drum. I can see you’re caught up in the project. I’ve never seen anyone so obsessed.”

“It’s what I do.” Her work had saved her from the depths of despair and helped her keep her sanity after Bonnie had been murdered. It was her salvation and her passion.

“I just thought I’d fill you in on a few things I’ve learned about Bently.”

“I thought you’d already told me everything.”

“Only the obvious. I decided to probe a little deeper. I don’t like to trust the obvious.”

“So what did you find out?”

“He was an ardent environmentalist, very passionate about solar energy and cleaning up the rivers.”

“And?”

“That would make him a target for any number of energy groups. What if he was planning to run on a platform that would step on some very important toes?”

“You’re doing those ‘what ifs’ again.”

“Can’t help it. It’s a game I have to play. It’s my suspicious nature.” Galen smiled.

“But at least you should be relieved that Bently is turning out to be such a sterling character.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious you’ve become so emotionally attached to that skull that it would give you a hell of a lot of satisfaction if Victor turned out to be a good guy.”

“Either way, it won’t stop me from doing my job.” Galen tilted his head and gazed appraisingly at the skull. “You don’t appear very close. He looks like a voodoo doll. What are all those sticks all over his skull?”

“Tissue-depth markers. I cut each marker to the proper measurement and glue it onto its specific area on the face. There are more than twenty points of the skull for which there are known tissue depths.” She carefully placed another marker. “There are anthropological charts that give a specific measurement for each point.”

“Then your work is mostly measurement?”

“No, that’s the donkey work. I take strips of plasticine and apply them between the markers, then build them up to tissue-depth levels. Then I smooth and fill in and work with the skull until I’m satisfied. The last process is the most important. That’s why I can’t look at photographs of the subject. I can’t let even my subconscious be influenced.”

“Well, you’re safe for now. But I’m planning on going down to the newspaper office and getting a photo.”

“Well, keep it ‘til I’ve finished.”

“When will that be?”

“As long as it takes. Five or six more days, maybe.” She glanced at him. “Any news about Pierre?”

“A story on page five of the newspaper about the suicide of Pierre Letaux, who was apparently despondent about the death of his mother.”

“You said the police wouldn’t question it.”

“I admit I didn’t want to be right about this one.” He shrugged. “But sometimes the bad guys win.”

“Not this time.” She placed another marker. “Now go away and let me work.”

“I’m on my way.” He paused. “You know, we could call Melton and tell him we think Marie’s and Pierre’s deaths may not be quite what they seem.”

“I thought of that. And then he’d assure me that I was mistaken and that the police reports were accurate.”

“Could be.”

“And I don’t need to deal with Melton right now.”

“I didn’t think so. It might interfere with Victor, and you won’t permit anything to do that. Is Rick feeding you?”

“When I let him.” She lifted a brow. “It seems my poison tester hasn’t been on the job.”

“Rick wouldn’t let anything happen to you. At least, not until you’ve finished Victor. I’ve never seen anyone more intent on making your work easy for you. And I’ll cook for you myself tonight.”

“That’s comforting.”

“It should be more than comforting. You should be breathless with anticipation.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Okay, forget about dwelling on my fine cuisine.” He turned to leave. “I’d like this job done quickly, too.”

He couldn’t be more anxious than she was, Eve thought as he left the room. Ever since she had seen Pierre’s body the night before last, she had been driven to finish the reconstruction.

Maybe even before that. There were so few truly good people; Bently might have been one of those rare individuals.

She placed another marker. “We’re getting there, Victor,” she murmured. “Galen thinks you might have been some kind of martyr, but I’ve got to be very careful not to pay any attention. You might have been just a soldier or a tramp or some other victim. It doesn’t matter. You deserve to be brought home, too…”

“No identification, Lieutenant.” Officer Krakow shrugged. “And we’re not going to get anyone to recognize him. The forensic boys say he’s been dead for at least four days, facedown in the water in that drainpipe.”

“Four days?” Joe’s gaze went down the hill to the forensic team gathered around the entrance of the drainage pipe.

“Could be longer. You know it’s hard to pin down when a corpse has been out in the weather. We’ll have to wait for the medical examiner.”

“What kind of clothes is he wearing?”

“Oxford cloth shirt. No tie, but nicely tailored pants. He appears to be very white-collar. He definitely wasn’t one of the homeless.” Krakow gazed at Joe curiously.

“This isn’t your case, is it, sir? You looking for someone in particular?”

“Maybe. Thanks, Krakow.” Joe started down the hill. He could see the sprawled body, and the size seemed right. Capel had been a big man with receding brown hair, but he couldn’t see the hair from here. White-collar described George Capel, and he’d have to see about the time frame. Conditions were everything as far as decomposition was concerned. He’d seen a woman taken out of the trunk of a car after only seven hours; he would have sworn she had been dead for days.

It didn’t have to be Capel. He hoped to God it wasn’t. If that body was George Capel, it brought this whole mess to a new and dangerous level.

“Hi, Lieutenant.” Sam Rowley glanced up as he approached. “Looks like we’ve got one for you.”

Joe looked down at the corpse. The hair was light brown, but he couldn’t tell if it was receding from that swollen, disfigured face.

“Homicide?”

“Appears to be a knife wound in the back. There are multiple wounds on the body, but it’s hard to determine if they were inflicted before or after death. He’s been out here awhile.”

“I need to know who he is. Fingerprints?”

“May be tough to match with the hands so swollen. Probably have to go for the teeth.”

“How soon?”

“The lab’s pretty backlogged. Two weeks, maybe.”

“I need to know now, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “Talk to the lab techs. You know I can’t help you.”

“I will.” Joe turned and strode back up the hill.

A knife wound in the back. Multiple other wounds.

The muscles of his stomach twisted as he got back in the car. Don’t panic yet. Get down to headquarters and pull strings to get that ID right away.

Christ, he hoped it wasn’t Capel.

“How far along are you?” Galen asked as he poured Eve’s coffee that evening.

“Have you gotten past the voodoo stage?”

“Tomorrow. I have to go very slowly to have an absolutely true foundation.” Eve lifted the cup to her lips. “That was a very good meal, Galen.”

“It was a magnificent meal. You’re too tired to appreciate me.”

“No, I’m not.” She studied him soberly. What an unusual man he was. Complex, smooth on the surface with depths that were definitely dark and enigmatic. Yet she’d never felt safer with any man except Joe. “You’ve been very kind to me, Galen.”

“Just doing my job.”

“No. Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you’ve given me whatever I needed.”

“That’s my business. I’m a provider.” He leaned back in his chair. “And you’ve been easy. I haven’t had to maul or dispatch anyone lately.” He was joking. Or was he? Maybe not. Those murky depths again… “I hope you won’t have to do it in the future either.” Her hand tightened on the cup. “Death is ugly.”

“Yes, it is. And no one should know better than you.”

“Not even you?”

He smiled. “Let’s say my experience is active and yours is passive.”

“Why did you take this bodyguard job, Galen? I got the impression that you played on a much bigger stage.”

“I like Louisiana. I even have a house near New Orleans.”

“You took the job because you liked the area? I don’t think so.”

“Okay, Logan is my friend and he asked me to do it as a favor. I move around too much to have many friends, so I try to keep the ones I have.” He paused. “And I guess I kind of liked the idea of being cast as a knight to protect a lady. Usually my jobs are much less noble. I’d only met you once, but I wasn’t fond of the idea of you jumping into trouble.”

She had certainly been in trouble the first time she met him in Arizona two years ago, Eve thought ruefully. Besides taking care of Sarah’s wounded wolf, Maggie, she had been trying to sort out her own problems with Jane. “Well, you were very good with Maggie. Sarah was impressed.”

“We had a lot in common.” He took a sip of coffee. “Quinn must have been really worried about this trip or he wouldn’t have called Logan. I got the impression they’re not the greatest mates in the world.”

She stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about Joe.” She finished her coffee and stood up. “And in a few days there won’t be anything for any of us to worry about. Let’s get these dishes done. I want to go upstairs and make my call to Jane before I go to bed. Do you want to wash or dry?“

“I’ll do them. I need to expend some excess energy. You go on and call your little girl. I checked out the upstairs when you were taking your shower. It’s secure. But don’t go out on the balcony.”

“You think someone’s going to shoot me?”

He shook his head. “It would be too obvious. Everything has been made to look like an accident or suicide so far. But it won’t hurt to be careful. Sometimes new elements pop up in these situations.”

“You talk as if this is just run-of-the-mill to you. I’m finding it a good deal more stressful.”

He started to stack the dishes. “It’s certainly interesting.” She looked at him and shook her head. Just when she thought she had made progress getting beyond that smooth exterior, he pulled it firmly back in place.

“Good night, Galen.”

“Good night. Pleasant dreams.”

Don’t go out on the balcony or you might get shot.

Don’t eat anything Galen didn’t cook or you might be poisoned.

Not the stuff of which pleasant dreams were made.

Jane looked up from the salad she was tossing when Joe walked in that evening.

“Eve called a little while ago.”

“How is she?”

“Fine. Tired. She’s working on the skull. She calls him Victor. Will you get out the steaks, Joe?”

Joe came into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “How soon will she be done?”

“Doesn’t know.” Jane took out the indoor grill and plugged it in. “You know Eve’s never sure. It’s going well, though.”

“Did she mention Galen?”

“Only that he’d called Victor a gladiator and she was having the devil of a time keeping that out of her mind. Oh, and she said that he was a terrific cook.” She chuckled. “Good thing one of them is. Eve’s not so hot.”

“No, she’s not.” He handed her the steaks. “Sounds very cozy.”

“Yeah.” Jane looked at him and her smile faded. “Joe? Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not.” He turned away. “I’ve got to go wash up. I’ll be right back.” When he closed the bathroom door, he splashed water on his face and then reached for the towel. Oh, no, nothing was wrong. His grasp tightened on the soft cloth until his knuckles turned white. Only that he was jealous as hell and wanted to kill Sean Galen.

Shit, he’d want to murder everyone Eve looked at on the street or smiled at in a restaurant. Very sane. Very reasonable.

But who said he was ever reasonable when it came to Eve? She’d been the center of his life since he’d met her all those years ago, and he’d had only this short time of her belonging to him. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Joe drew a deep breath. Get control. He had to go out and not let Jane see what a crazy, obsessive son of a bitch he was. She’d been an angel since Eve had left. No, not an angel. She was too earthy and real to be termed angelic. She’d always had that same tough, loving nature that reminded him of Eve.

Eve. Everything came back to her. And she was in Baton Rouge with Galen, who was helping her, making those damn dinners, talking to her, sharing… He had sent Galen to be with her and he’d do it again, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Joe, the steaks are done,” Jane called.

“Coming.” He hung up the towel and opened the door. He forced a smile. “I’m starved. I forgot to eat lunch today.”

“You’ve been working too hard.” She carried the steaks over to the table, almost tripping over the puppy. “Toby, get out of my way. You cannot have these steaks.”

“I bet he’ll get the leftovers.”

“Maybe. I shouldn’t do it. Sarah said he should have a balanced diet and table scraps aren’t really good for him.” She shook her head. “But he’s such a chow hound.

I never saw any dog who loved food like Toby.”

“What else did Eve say?”

“Nothing much. She mostly asked about what I was doing and how Toby was. I told her he was fine.” She sat down. “I told her you were fine, too.”

“But she didn’t ask, did she?”

“No, but I figured she probably wanted to know.”

“Optimist.”

“She’s working, and she already seems more cheerful than when she left. Work always helps her.”

“I know.”

“So you just have to hang on and be patient. Now eat your steak.” He smiled faintly. “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

“Yes, don’t work so hard.” She frowned sternly at Toby who’d rested his head on her knee. “Don’t beg. It’s impolite.”

“You’re not going to last until supper’s over.”

“I will. He’s got to learn—”

Joe’s phone rang.

Jane sighed. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get through the meal.”

“I won’t answer it. I’ll let the voice mail pick it up.”

“But then you’d get indigestion worrying. Get it over with.” Joe flipped on his phone. “Quinn.”

“It’s Carol. The teeth ID came through. It’s George Andrew Capel, age forty-two.” Joe’s hand tightened on the phone. “Christ. Anything on the autopsy report?”

“I don’t know. Let me check. Yeah, here it is. They just tossed it in the in-box.

Death caused by knife wound that entered the heart from the back. The other wounds were minor. None of them capable of doing serious damage but would have been extremely painful. Looks like our killer likes to toy with his victims.”

“Maybe. Thanks, Carol.” He hung up.

“Joe?” Jane whispered.

He was scaring her. “It’s okay. It’s just that something’s come up and I have to deal with it.”

“Eve?”

“No. How could it be Eve? You just talked to her. That was Carol at the precinct. It was police business.”

“You’re never this upset about police business.” She was too sharp, and he was too panicky right now to hide his fear. He got to his feet. “I’ve got to make a couple of private calls. You go ahead and eat dinner. I’ll be back soon.”

She frowned, still troubled. “Okay. But your steak will get cold.”

“I’ll heat it up.” He wouldn’t be able to eat it anyway. Food was the last thing on his mind. The grave. The report sent to Eve. George Capel. Eve’s job in Baton Rouge.