Текст книги "Shadow Play: An Eve Duncan Novel"

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

So … How to get that reconstruction without getting shot or blown up?

Joe stopped. There might be one way to pull it off.

He shrugged off his backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out a thin, plastic bag. He tore into the bag and unfolded a six-by-six piece of mosquito netting. Joe pulled it taut between his hands. Thin, light, and reasonably strong. He put it on the ground and surveyed the trees around him. He unsheathed his knife and sliced off two thin branches, each about eight feet long. After a quick pruning, he attached the netting between the branches with wire from his backpack.

He held the two branches in his hands and practiced twisting and turning them for a moment. Not the most ideal contraption, but it could work.

He unholstered his gun and turned toward the reconstructed skull on the hillside. He’d have to get as close to it as he could while still maintaining a line of sight to the rock with the rigged land mine. This would require a near-perfect aim and split-second timing.

And a little bit of luck.

CHAPTER

10

Eve crouched low as she moved through the bushes, muttering a curse as every step crunched and crackled. If only she could move through the woods as silently as Joe. With all the racket she was making, how could Walsh not know she was coming?

She stopped, looking up at the reconstruction. Where would Walsh go to keep watch over his prize? Her eyes darted around the area. If it were she, where would she go? She looked up.

Of course.

A tree.

But which one? There were hundreds. Thousands. But she could immediately discount many of the smaller trees, and the ones without low-hanging branches to provide an easy foothold for climbing.

That still left a sizeable—

Boom.

An explosion rocked the woods, just a hundred yards west of her.

Joe!

Her head jerked toward the blast, which momentarily lit up the night sky. Oh God, Joe had been heading in that direction. Had he run straight into Walsh’s trap?

Maybe not, she prayed. There was a chance—

She had turned back toward the reconstructed skull.

The skull was gone!

It was like some kind of magic trick. It had been there just moments before, and now the two battery lanterns were aimed at …

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

She smiled.

Joe.

*   *   *

Walsh stared in disbelief at the spot where the skull had just been. The land-mine explosion had practically knocked him out of the tree, and by the time he recovered, Eve’s reconstruction had vanished.

There were two paths up there, and he’d secured both with explosive booby traps. And if anyone tried another route to the skull, he was ready with his rifle.

Except in the few moments after the land mine exploded behind him. Dammit. Had Eve or Quinn used his own explosive as a distraction?

Very clever, but it wouldn’t make any difference. Eve Duncan wasn’t leaving this forest alive.

Walsh slung his rifle over his shoulder, and he jumped to the ground.

*   *   *

Success!

Under the cover of darkness and the thick underbrush, Joe yanked his mosquito netting free of the two branches and wrapped it around the reconstructed skull. He’d been taught to fashion his mosquito net to capture small game in survival situations, but he’d never thought he’d one day use it to snag a human skull.

Thanks, SEAL Training Sgt. Peter Fallon, USN.

He’d dislodged the short blade from the mine with a single bullet, which bought him just enough time for a long-reach grab for the skull.

Joe bundled it under his arm and ran through the woods, dodging the obvious paths that might hold even more booby traps. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Without breaking stride he glanced at the display. Eve.

He answered. “I have the skull.”

“Good.” Walsh replied. “And I have Eve.”

Joe stopped. “Walsh.”

“Oh, yes. And you also know there’s only one way I could have Eve’s phone.”

“Walsh,” Joe said slowly and precisely. “If you’ve hurt her, I will kill you in the most painful way imaginable.”

“Such violence. Joe Quinn the caveman, swinging his club to protect his mate … Does that kind of thing still work in this day and age?”

“Put her on the phone. Now.”

“So demanding … Especially when I’m holding all the cards.”

“Now.”

Eve’s voice cut in quickly. “Joe, take the skull and get the hell away from—”

She was abruptly cut off, and Joe heard what he was sure was the sound of a blow being struck. Walsh returned on the phone. “I never bluff, Quinn. I don’t need to.”

Joe looked toward the ridge where he’d last seen Eve. She had to be somewhere near there. He started moving as he spoke into the phone. “Then what do you want?”

“You’re holding it. Bring that skull back to me.”

“And you’ll let Eve go?”

“We’ll negotiate.”

“Why in the hell should I believe you? You already had the skull before this night ever began.”

“Conditions change. You brought about that change. Well done, by the way.”

“We’ve both been trained in the same school. If you hurt her, I’ll show you why I graduated cum laude.”

“You’re quite capable. I get that. Bring me the skull, and we’ll talk.”

Eve’s voice cut in again, this time in the background. “Joe, don’t! Get out of here.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear, but he didn’t hear Eve’s voice in the open air. They had to be farther away than he thought. He quickened his pace.

Walsh’s voice was muffled for a moment as he said something to Eve. Then he returned. “I suggest you do as I say, Quinn. Eve is starting to annoy me.”

“Where do I bring it?”

“There’s a small clearing just on the other side of the ridge.”

“You’ll be there?”

“Where I’d make myself a target? Be serious. But that’s where I want you to be. We’ll be close enough to see you. Do as I say, and you’ll see Eve.”

“I’d better see her unharmed. I’m warning you.”

“What happens to Eve in the next fifteen minutes entirely depends on you. Do as I say, Quinn.”

Walsh cut the connection.

*   *   *

“If you want to live through the night, you’ll let me go,” Eve said quietly. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. Joe is in his element out here.”

Walsh tugged on her nylon wrist restraints as he pulled her through the woods. “You have a high opinion of your Joe Quinn.”

“It’s well-founded.”

“Your faith in him is touching. He was lucky. I’m better than he is. Look who’s on top now.”

“For the moment.” Eve studied Walsh, looking for weakness, as he pulled her around a clump of bushes. He held his handgun high in his right hand, and he used his left hand to guide her. “But all you’ve proved so far is that you were able to overcome me, and that was only because you took me by surprise.” He was very good. He’d appeared out of nowhere with a gun leveled at her head. A complete shock.

And, if they couldn’t find a way out, in a few moments, he’d have Joe and the skull.

“You were easy. A woman who sculpts faces on skulls? Though you did do an amazing job with reconstruction,” Walsh said. “You brought that little girl back.”

“No. There’s no coming back from what you did to her.”

A range of emotions suddenly played across Walsh’s face. Eve tried to decipher the expressions. Doubt. Fear. Anger. Was that a weakness? Probe a little and try to find out.

“Jenny had her entire life ahead of her,” Eve said.

“How do you know that’s her name?” Walsh snapped.

“That is her name, isn’t it?”

He was silent.

Eve smiled. “She told me.”

“Bullshit.”

“Believe what you want. I know the truth.”

And he knew it, too, Eve realized. Jenny had definitely reached out to him.

“We’ll wait here.” He stopped and pointed through the trees at a clearing. “That’s where your Joe Quinn will be meeting us. Don’t make a sound, Eve, and it may be over soon, with a minimum of pain for you.”

*   *   *

In less than five minutes, Joe appeared in the clearing. He was holding the bundle under his arm. Run, take the skull, and get the hell out of here, she wanted to tell him. But she had said it all before, and he wouldn’t do it now any more than he had then.

Joe looked around. “Walsh?” he called out.

Walsh responded, still in the cover of the surrounding trees. “Put the skull down, Quinn. And take the gun from your holster and throw it into the woods.”

“Let me see Eve.”

Walsh nudged her.

She called out. “I’m here, Joe.”

Joe tossed his gun, then rested the mosquito-net-wrapped bundle on the ground. He stepped back. “Here’s what you wanted. Now let her go.”

Bam.

Walsh fired his gun, and Joe went down.

Joe!

Blood spurted from his right side. He rolled over and looked up at Eve.

Walsh stepped forward. “So sorry, Quinn. But Eve here has been selling you as quite the formidable opponent. I couldn’t take the chance.”

Eve tried to run to Joe, but Walsh held her back.

“He can still survive, but you need to be smart, Eve. I promise you, my next bullet will finish him.”

She whirled back toward him, her eyes glistening. “He did everything you asked,” she said fiercely.

“That remains to be seen. Open the package for me, Eve. Let’s see your creation.”

Eve turned toward Joe. He was doubled over on the ground, pale and in pain. She wanted to run to him.

Walsh shoved her toward the package. “You’re wasting time.”

Eve knelt on the ground, just feet away from where Joe lay. She pulled away the mosquito netting and froze. She looked up and locked eyes with Joe.

“Well?” Walsh said.

Eve turned and raised the reconstructed skull in Walsh’s direction.

He lowered his gun and stepped toward her, his gaze fixed on the skull. He had that odd expression on his face again.

Fear. Awe. Anger.

Eve slowly reached down into the folds of netting and picked up the present Joe had hidden for her there.

His 9mm Beretta.

She gripped the handle and whirled around, firing at Walsh.

The first shot hit him in the shoulder. His gun flew from his hand.

The second shot grazed his temple.

Walsh screamed in pain and ran into the woods.

Eve kept firing until the cartridge was empty. She grabbed Walsh’s gun and turned back toward Joe. “I need you to walk. Can you do that for me?”

He shook his head, and whispered, “Go. Run.”

“No way. Not without you.” She linked her arms underneath his and dragged him out of the clearing.

His eyes fluttered. She was losing him.

She tore off her overshirt and pressed it against his wound. “Hold this here. I’ve called Nalchek. He should have been here by now.”

She punched the number. The buttons became sticky with blood. Joe’s blood.

“Nalchek,” he answered.

“Where the hell are you? Joe’s been shot. We need help now.”

“You’ll get it. The police helicopters are on their way.”

She cut the connection and turned back toward Joe.

She fell to her knees beside him.

Blood.

Staining his shirt. So much blood.

“They’re coming, Joe. He said the helicopters are on their way.”

“I think … I hear them.”

So did Eve, but so far away.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Shh, it’s okay, Eve.”

“It’s not okay,” she said brokenly. “Dammit, he shot you.” She was frantically searching for the source of the blood. “You shouldn’t have done it. Not any of it. And you stood out there and let him shoot you.”

“Knew it wouldn’t be … a kill shot if … he wasn’t sure he had the skull.”

“You didn’t know, you took the chance. And you took a chance he’d have me unwrap the skull.”

“It would have been … hard for him to unwrap it and keep an eye … on both of us. Reasonable…”

“There wasn’t anything reasonable about it. You shouldn’t have done it. We should have left when I asked you to do it. I told you that reconstruction wasn’t important. Not in comparison to—” The wound was in the upper right chest.

How deep?

Don’t think about it. Just stop it.

She applied pressure. “Keep breathing. Don’t go to sleep. I’m going to keep you with me, Joe. There’s no way I’ll let you slip away.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His smile was faint, and so was his voice. “You bet you won’t. Gone through too much together … Wouldn’t let a scumbag like Walsh get between…”

“Just hold on. Those helicopters are closer, almost on top of us. They should– Joe!” His eyes were closing. “Don’t do that!”

“I won’t let you down. Promise. Just for a little while…”

He was unconscious.

But not dead, she thought frantically. She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her hand. He was alive, and he’d stay alive.

She wouldn’t let him go.

*   *   *

Son of a bitch.

Walsh’s foot slammed down on the accelerator, and the car jumped forward.

He could feel the blood trickling down his cheek and the searing sting from the bullet Eve Duncan had fired at him. An inch more, and the bitch would have blown his head off.

She had taunted him and gotten in his way, then had almost killed him.

The rage was tearing through him. It wasn’t enough that he had, at last, probably taken down Joe Quinn. He had to have Eve Duncan. He had to show her how superior he was to her. He wanted to crush her, destroy everyone she cared about, then show her how much pain he could inflict.

Die.

She had to die.

In the most agonizing way possible.

CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

“You look … beautiful,” Joe said.

Eve opened her eyes and leaned forward in her chair toward the hospital bed. “Awake at last? You must still be woozy from the anesthesia if you think that.” She took his hand. “The surgeon said that the operation went very well, and you’re definitely out of danger. How do you feel?”

“You are beautiful. More … beautiful than usual.”

She chuckled. “I’ve already addressed that comment. No one but you would ever think I’m anything but interesting-looking, and it’s so dim in here, I’m sure you can barely see me. Now let’s talk about—”

“Interesting is beautiful.” He smiled. “And I can see you well enough to see your strength and the way you hold your head and the set of your lips. I think I was dreaming about you before I came around, and you defied every expectation. You always defy expectations.”

“Bullshit.” But even recovering from surgery, Joe was behaving oddly. “What is this all about, Joe?”

He chuckled. “How suspicious. Every word is true.”

“And?”

“Maybe I wanted to distract you a little from agonizing over this wound that’s causing me a few problems. When I opened my eyes, I could see all the strain and the edginess.”

“A few problems?” she said harshly. “You were out of control. You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t, thanks to your very nice shooting that put Walsh on the run.” He tilted his head. “Of course, I was being exceptionally skillful myself, but I have to admit you saved the day.”

“I don’t care about saving the day.” Her hand tightened on his, her voice uneven. “I only care about you. I could hit you. Don’t you ever do that again. I told you that we weren’t going to take any chances. Yet you strode off like some kind of Gary Cooper wannabe gunning for your own personal High Noon.”

“Not entirely personal. You wanted the skull.”

“It was personal,” she said fiercely. “You’ve told me that everything between us is personal. I know that, but I can’t stand the thought of your risking—” She broke off and drew an uneven breath. “And you can’t tell me that you didn’t want to try to take Walsh down. You didn’t care about the risk.”

“Wrong,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have risked leaving you alone with Walsh out there. I would have pulled back if I hadn’t thought I could do it.” He lifted her palm to his lips. “And I did do it, didn’t I? Or rather, we did it. Was there any damage to the reconstruction?”

“A little. But it won’t take me more than a few hours to repair it.” She leaned closer. “But I don’t want to talk about the skull. I want to talk about promises. I can’t stand the thought of this happening again. I want your word that you won’t—” She stopped. He was shaking his head. “Joe, dammit.”

“You won’t get it. Why are you even trying? This is who I am. Every bit of me belongs to you, but I can’t change who that person is.” His hand tightened on her own. “Hey, do you think that I don’t want to run your life so that you’ll be safe forever? Sometimes I try to do it. But I’m never going to ask you to be someone else because sometimes I get scared. I’ll just work around it.”

As he’d done when he’d tried to convince her not to go to Tahoe. He’d accepted, then applied every ounce of his intelligence and strength to make the decision work for him. She was silent, gazing at him. “Like you did tonight.”

“Yep. But that’s not so bad. We’ve done pretty well so far.”

All the years, all the love. “So far … But tonight it almost crashed and burned.” She stood up and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll go and tell the head nurse that you’re awake.”

“Fine. When am I being released?”

He wasn’t going to like this. “The doctor will be in later, but he’s going to err on the side of caution. He said the earliest will be four or five days.”

“Bullshit,” he said flatly.

“Talk to him. The surgery wasn’t all that easy. He said if you rip those stitches before they’re healed, you could bleed to death.” She heard him mutter a curse before she hurried from the room. “I’ll see you later.”

*   *   *

“How is he doing?”

Eve turned away from the nurses’ station to see Nalchek walking down the hall toward her. “Not bad. Could be a lot better. But I’ll take it. Unfortunately, Joe isn’t likely to agree. They’re going to have to fight to keep him here for more than a day or two. He’s stubborn as hell.”

“I got that impression.” He glanced down the hall at Joe’s room. “And damn tough. The Nevada PD said he pulled off an amazing stunt out there.”

“He’s always amazing.” And strong, and smart, and more complex than anyone would dream. “And I’ve got to figure a way to keep him from bolting out of here.”

“I could ask the PD to find a minor crime with which to charge him.” He made a face. “But I don’t want Quinn for an enemy. I don’t believe he’s one to forgive and forget.”

“No way. My problem.” She turned to look at him. “Any news about Walsh?”

“Nothing good. They found an abandoned rental car on the shore a few miles away, and forensics is going over it. He probably had a speedboat waiting.”

“I’m grateful for your responding to my SOS and getting us out of those mountains. Thank you, Nalchek.”

“I’d say you’re welcome, but I’m still pissed off that you didn’t involve me in the beginning,” he said grimly. “It might have turned out differently if I’d been there for backup.”

“We were playing it by ear.”

“And leaving me out.”

“Yes. We didn’t know what to expect.”

“That’s not going to happen again,” he said grimly. “You owe me. I want to know everything you know about Walsh.”

He was right, they did owe him. “I didn’t mean to exclude you. It just … happened.” She quickly filled him in on everything they’d learned or suspected about Walsh. “I agree that we have to share information. It’s only sensible.”

His lips twisted. “But you and Quinn are so close that you practically finish each other’s sentences. I can see it. I’ll have to watch you like a hawk to keep you from doing it to me again.” He met her gaze. “You need me. I should have been there for you. You’ll notice you didn’t seem to do too well if that—”

“Maybe not,” she interrupted. “We lost Walsh. But we got the reconstruction.”

“So you told me when you phoned. Where is it?”

“In a canvas bag at the administration office. I left it there when they checked Joe into ER.”

“I want it. Let’s go down and get it.”

“Not yet. I have to make a few minor repairs. Then I’ll hand it over.” She rubbed her temple. “Then I have to call Margaret. She has a right to know what’s happening.”

“I already called her.”

She glanced at him in surprise. “You did?”

“After we knew Quinn wasn’t going to die. I thought you’d want her to know.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“She said she’d be at the hospital as soon as you let her know you need her.” His lips twisted. “She’s probably planning on hitchhiking. I’ll see that she has a ride.”

“You’re being very cooperative.”

“Haven’t you heard? Margaret says I’m one of the good guys. Not with sterling qualifications, and I could fall from grace at any moment.” He shrugged. “So I have to work on keeping on her good side. She might set her coyote on me.”

“I doubt it.”

“I don’t doubt anything about what she might do. She’s one of a kind, and I’m not certain what kind.” He changed the subject. “How quick can you manage to repair that skull?”

“I should have her finished by this afternoon.” She paused. “But I want to know what news sources you’re going to go to with the reconstruction.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I didn’t say that. But I lost her once. I don’t want that to happen again. I want to be able to control the distribution of her photo.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised if you’re being proprietary, but might I remind you that I’m the one who sent Jenny to you.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “You didn’t by any chance get a call from Margaret since you’ve been here at the hospital?”

“What?” She gazed at him in bewilderment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one who told Margaret about Joe.”

He nodded curtly. “Just a thought. Margaret and I haven’t been on the best of terms since we met. You were prepared to trust me before.”

“Trust has nothing to do with it. I’d just feel better to be involved all the way through the process.”

“I could confiscate the skull.”

“Yes, you could. But then you’d have me on your back instead of by your side. You don’t want that.”

He didn’t speak for a moment. “No, I don’t.” He turned away. “Let me know where you’ll be working, and I’ll be there to pick it up this afternoon.”

She had a thought. “Come here. I’ll try to get permission to do the repairs here in Joe’s room. I want to keep an eye on him, and it might make him a little more complacent if I’m with him, and he feels part of the process.” She added ruefully, “Complacent? That term doesn’t apply to Joe in any sense of the word. Oh, well, I’ll have to do what I can.”

“And that appears to be pretty impressive.” He paused at the elevator. “I’ll give the hospital administration a call and rattle off your credentials so that they won’t give you trouble about bringing a skull onto the floor. Sometimes they can be a little touchy about things like that.”

“I can do that myself.”

“You’re shutting me out again.” He punched the button. “I’m law enforcement. Use me.”

She shrugged. “I’m accustomed to doing everything for myself. No offense.”

“None taken.” He got on the elevator. “And I’ll let you tag along with me when I take the skull to a few reporters with whom I’ve had good luck. You might be an asset.”

“Thank you. I can’t tell you how I appreciate your cooperation,” she said with gentle sarcasm.

“Now you know how I’ve been feeling.”

Before she could answer, the elevator doors closed.

She wrinkled her nose as she turned away. It was clear she hadn’t handled Nalchek with any great degree of diplomacy and had managed to annoy him.

Too bad. She respected and admired him but she couldn’t please everyone, and the main issue was to get Walsh before he could kill again. But he was right, it was time to use him.

But not right now. She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. She would call and arrange for her supplies to be sent to the hospital. Then she would beg a bed for the next few hours and sleep before she started to work.

But first she would go back to Joe and fill him in on the current plan and try to make it as palatable as possible for him. It would not be easy. As she had told Nalchek, Joe did not forgive and forget. He would have planned to go after Walsh even if he had not been shot. Now he would be totally relentless.

And that’s what she must be until she managed to stop Walsh. She might have only a few days before Joe was on the hunt again, and he was hurt and vulnerable. Yes, she would use Nalchek and anyone else to find Walsh before Joe had to face him again.

He’s dead, you bitch. And you’ll be dead, too. You can’t stop me.

The hell I can’t. Watch me.

*   *   *

“Quite a setup.” Nalchek was standing in the doorway of Joe’s room, his gaze on Eve, who was standing at a makeshift stand across the room, working on Jenny’s reconstruction. “Is she much worse for wear? She doesn’t look it. That sketch you drew looks just like her.”

“Not much damage.” She shook her head at Joe. “He took better care of her than he did himself.”

“I wasn’t about to let it be destroyed,” Joe said as he glanced at Nalchek. “I suppose I owe you thanks for the way you responded to Eve’s call. You got those police helicopters out to us with amazing speed, considering that they were out of your jurisdiction. I know how difficult it can be bridging the red tape when it’s not your own guys.”

Nalchek shrugged. “I’ve made it a point since I became sheriff to establish friendly relationships with other police departments both statewide and in close neighboring states. You can never tell when you’re going to need a favor.”

“You must have done a good job. I was impressed.”

“But they didn’t snag Walsh.”

“No, but we’ll get him. That bastard isn’t going to take anything from us ever again.”

“Sounds good.” Nalchek smiled at Eve. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on both her and the reconstruction.”

Oh, shit. He couldn’t have said anything that would have made Joe feel his helplessness more. Eve could see the immediate tension that tautened Joe’s body. She said quickly, “Not your job.” She picked up the towel on the worktable and wiped her hands. “But it is your job to take Jenny for her first viewing.” She nodded at the box on the chair. “Pack her up, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Okay.” He moved across the room and carefully took the reconstruction and placed it in the box. “If you still want to go with me.”

“I told you I did. Which journalist did you place first on the list?”

“Terry Brandell. She writes a weekly column and has national syndication. But she’s very popular in California and Oregon. She’s helped me out before a couple times.” He closed the box. “Though never with anything quite like this. She’s more into tough, investigative police work than lost and found.”

“This is definitely investigative police work.”

“But that face is … wrenching. Children always evoke an emotional response. She prefers the cool, analytical approach.”

“No, there’s nothing cool and analytical about anything to do with Jenny.” She moved toward the bed and gave Joe a quick kiss. “I’ll call you.” She headed for the door. “Let’s get this over with, Nalchek. The sooner your reporter gets Jenny’s face in her column the better.”

*   *   *

“I suppose Nalchek told you that this kind of curiosity/human-interest stuff isn’t really my cup of tea?” Terry Brandell asked as she looked down at the box. “I’m surprised he brought this skull to me.”

“He said you would give it the greatest amount of coverage,” Eve said bluntly. “And this reconstruction is not a curiosity. It’s a little girl who was murdered and needs the justice she never had. If you think that’s a human-interest story, then we disagree. Personally, I believe it’s a terrible tragedy that deserves being exposed and rectified. If you’re willing to do that, then we’ve come to the right place. If not, say it now, and we’ll find someone else. I have no intention of begging you to do the right thing.”

The journalist blinked. “I can see that.” She glanced at Nalchek. “And I like her honesty. When you called me, I did a little research, and when I checked her credentials, I was thinking of doing an interview. How about a trade?”

“No,” Eve said. “I’m not the story. This little girl is the story, and I won’t have her cheated or overshadowed.”

“You heard the lady.” Nalchek was smiling. “I’m open for a deal on future information for your articles, but this one is off the table, Terry.”

“Interesting.” She tilted her head. “Particularly since this isn’t exactly what I’d think you’d be involved in, Nalchek.”

“Yes or no,” Eve said. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

“You can’t convince me there’s a hurry. She’s been dead eight years.”

Eve didn’t answer.

“Or are there new breaks in the case?”

“How can there be?” Nalchek asked. “We don’t know who she is. That’s how you’re going to help us.”

“Maybe.”

Eve shook her head. “Yes or no.”

Terry shrugged. “Yes. Why not? I always like to have Nalchek owe me.” She reached for the box. “Show me the kid.”

Eve opened the box and carefully drew out the reconstruction. She put it on the desk in front of the journalist.

Terry Brandell studied the skull. “Very unusual. Are you sure that you didn’t indulge your creativity a bit on this one, Ms. Duncan?”

“I’m sure,” Eve said. “When you locate a photo of her, I’d bet that the similarity will be very close, Ms. Brandell.”

“Terry. If we locate a photo.” Terry’s gaze was fixed on Jenny’s delicate features. “But if someone has seen her, it’s likely she would be remembered.”

“That’s what we thought,” Eve said. “How soon can you publish the photo?”

“A few days.”

Eve shook her head.

Terry Brandell grimaced. “Pushy. Very pushy.” She turned to Nalchek. “Tomorrow. Give me an hour to get my photographer on it.” She added brusquely, “And I want an exclusive if you come up with the kid’s killer.”

“Done,” Nalchek said.

“And you can come back later today to pick up the reconstruction.”

“No, we’ll wait,” Eve said. “She’s not going to be out of my sight until you’ve taken those photos. Things sometimes get … misplaced.”

“I don’t imagine skulls are high on that list,” Terry said dryly.

“You’d be surprised.” Eve sat down in a chair by the door. “I won’t get in your way.”

“Suit yourself.” She asked curiously, “Are you always this intense?”

“It depends on the job. This one seems to require it.”

Terry turned to Nalchek. “I’m beginning to become intrigued. Want to have dinner and discuss it?”

“No,” Nalchek said. “I’ll take a rain check. Thanks for helping, Terry.”

“I won’t give up, you know.” Her gaze went back to the reconstruction. “Now that I study it, there’s something familiar…”

“Someone compared her features to those of a young Audrey Hepburn,” Eve said. “That’s probably what you’re seeing.”

“Maybe.” She stared for a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe not. I’ll think about it.”

“Why else would she be familiar?” Eve asked. “She’s been buried for eight years, and she was only nine. You said that missing children weren’t your cup of tea.”