Текст книги "Shadow Play: An Eve Duncan Novel"

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Ready for what?”

“What was coming. But nothing good can come until it’s finished.”

“Double talk. Until what’s finished?”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m being impatient. Let’s go through this slowly and logically. I’ll ask you questions, you try to answer. You think your name is Jenny but you don’t know the last name?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember your mother or father?”

“No.”

“Brothers? Sisters?”

“No.”

“A place, a house?”

“No.”

She hesitated. “You do know that you’re not … as you were? That you’re not the Jenny who was born in … You’re a spirit, Jenny.”

“Yes, what they call a ghost. I’ve known that for a long time.” She paused. “But it confused me. Because I couldn’t understand why. I was just there, in that place, and I was alone. All I understood was that I had to be patient. I had to wait.”

“To find the person who took your life?”

“That was a part of it.”

“I would think it would be a big part.” She stopped, hesitating again. She didn’t want to go down this path. She was getting the impression that Jenny was being truthful but that the girl was lost and bewildered, and Eve didn’t want to add pain to the mix. “You don’t remember how you were killed?”

“No.” A pause. “Am I supposed to remember?”

“Perhaps not. My daughter Bonnie had no memory of the time she was killed. And I had no body to examine and tell her.” She added, “There’s a terrible wound in this skull. You said you didn’t remember its hurting. You don’t remember who did it? You don’t remember the pain when he did it?”

Silence. “I remember pain.” Her voice was suddenly panicky. “Not then. Not then. Before. Before. Not my head. Hands. Please don’t do it. It will take it away. Please don’t—”

“Jenny.” Eve was frantic, too. She had to stop that agony she was sensing in the child. Dear God, why had she even gone down this avenue? “I’m sorry. It’s not here any longer. No pain. All the bad things are gone. You don’t have to remember him. We’ll find him for you.” She wanted to reach out and hold her in her arms, to comfort her, but how could she do that, dammit? “Forgive me.”

“Are you crying, Eve? Why?” Jenny’s agony was gone, and there was only curiosity.

She was crying, Eve realized. Two tears were running down her cheeks. “Because I screwed up.” She wiped her cheeks on her work hand towel. “And I didn’t mean to hurt you. I told you that talking to you is awkward for me.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going to hurt you and what’s not. It’s all experimental between us. So I’d better be quiet and just do what I’m best at.” She started to carefully remove the depth markers. “Because that sheriff who sent you to me gave me some very bad news, and I promised him I’d see if I could get him answers.”

“I know.”

Her hand hesitated midway in the act of taking out another marker. “And do you know why I promised him?”

Sadness. “His friend, Ron. I told you it was going to keep on, Eve.”

She took out another marker. “Yes, you did. Was it the same man who killed—” She wasn’t going down that road again. “Do you know because of some supernatural instinct or because I know?”

“Because of you. I know what you know. I feel what you feel.” She added simply, “I like that, Eve. I don’t feel as lonely.”

Eve was touched, but she could see problems on the horizon. “Let’s hope it’s only until I finish this reconstruction. Then maybe we can find your parents.” She took out another marker. “I’d like that, Jenny. To send you home is my main goal of doing this.”

“Home…” Jenny said. “I don’t think that I—”

“Hush, now.” Eve’s brow was wrinkled with concentration. “I’ve got to fill in the depth for accuracy and then we’ll start to work together…”

CHAPTER

3

“Coffee.” Joe set her cup on the worktable beside her. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into eating supper?”

“No.” She took his hand and put it against her cheek. “Thanks. Sorry I’ve been antisocial.”

“That’s an understatement. You were working when I got up this morning, and you’re still at it this evening.” He kissed her on the forehead. He took a step back and studied the reconstruction. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re approaching the final stages. That’s remarkable. I’ve never seen you work this fast.”

She rubbed the back of her aching neck. “It seemed the thing to do.”

“I can see why,” he said quietly. “When were you going to tell me there had been another death out there in California?”

Her gaze flew to his face. “I wasn’t keeping it from you. I was just so absorbed that I– How did you know?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the doings of your Sheriff Nalchek on the Net. His attitude was unusual, and I don’t like unusual when it’s connected to you. Unusual can be trouble.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her. Joe was always protective, and he hadn’t liked Nalchek’s persistence. “It’s clear he had a right to be concerned.”

“Clear to you. Perhaps clear to me. But not so clear to anyone else. Have you ever run across a cold case like this in which the murderer after eight years was still hovering, ready to leap on anyone investigating the crime?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not true.” She paused. “Nalchek had my dossier in that squad car, and he thinks that whoever killed Carstairs took photos of it.”

Joe went still. “There wasn’t any mention of that on the Net. And it’s something you should have told me.”

“I’m telling you now.” She inclined her head toward the reconstruction. “And that’s an excellent reason why I should get Jenny finished right away.”

“Yes.” His gaze was narrowed on her face. “And is that the only reason?”

“No.” She hadn’t wanted to go into this right now. It was too involved. She needed to get back to Jenny. But she had to be honest with Joe. “Unless I’ve gone wacko, our Jenny is communicating with me.”

“What? How?”

She had to smile. “Only you would accept the fact and just want to know the method.”

“You have me well trained.” He was still frowning. “I’ve been living with you and your visits from Bonnie all these years. I’ve even had experiences with her. You have a bond with every child on whom you do a reconstruction, but they don’t communicate. The bond just helps you to get an accurate resemblance. Why is this one different?”

“I have no idea.” She held up her hand as he opened his lips to speak. “But she doesn’t want to do me any harm. I know it. She’s just bewildered and lonely. She’s not sure why she’s here.”

“Because you’re doing her damn reconstruction, and she needs you. Hell, we all need you.”

“She’s very strong, Joe. I guess I gave you the impression that she’s clinging, but I can feel how strong she is. I don’t believe she would have been able to reach me if she didn’t have that strength.”

“Good for her. I hope she’ll find her home and Nalchek finds her killer. But I want to be sure that you’re not damaged in the process.” He looked down at the reconstruction. “Finish her. Send her on her way.” He turned and headed for the door. “In the meantime, I’ll take a look around the woods and make sure that we don’t have any visitors.”

The door shut firmly behind him.

She shook her head as she stared after him. Joe was definitely on the alert and moving with his usual efficiency.

“He doesn’t want me here,” Jenny said. “Why does he think I’ll hurt you?”

“He doesn’t. He’s just cautious. When you care about someone, you always want to be sure that they’re safe. I’m sure your parents were like that with you.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t remember anyone’s being like him.”

She chuckled. “Because there is no one like him. He stands alone.”

“You feel … warm … toward him. Like standing before a fireplace and just toasting. It’s nice.”

“I feel many things toward him. And they’re all nice.” She thought about it. “Well, mostly nice. He’s very stubborn, and that can be annoying.”

“But it doesn’t stop the warmth.”

“No, it doesn’t stop that. Nothing stops that.” She turned toward the reconstruction. “Now be quiet while I get back to work.”

“Okay. I was just curious.”

And Jenny’s interruption had the gentleness and familiarity of an old friend whispering in her ear. “Children are always curious.”

“I don’t know if I’m a child anymore. Am I?”

If Jenny had lived, she would be seventeen now. She had missed so much … “I don’t know. My Bonnie says that she couldn’t stand still when she crossed over, that she kept maturing. I imagine it might be the same for you. But that doesn’t mean you might not be a little stunted as far as experiences are concerned. I guess that depends on what you’ve been doing for the last eight years.”

“Waiting. I’ve been waiting…”

Waiting for what? To be brought home to the people she loved? To get justice for the terrible crime perpetrated against her? The words struck Eve as terribly sad, and again she had the urge to reach out and hold her.

Back off. Jenny was coming too close to her. She forced herself to go back to working on the depth markers on the reconstruction. “Then wait a little longer, Jenny. We’re getting there. Just a little longer…”

*   *   *

The lights were burning bright in the cottage even though it was after midnight.

Walsh didn’t dare get closer to the cottage than these trees across the lake, and it was filling him with frustration. But Joe Quinn had been out in the woods twice tonight, and he couldn’t risk it. He’d read Quinn’s dossier, and an ex-SEAL wasn’t going to be taken by surprise like that deputy. He’d have to wait for an opportunity.

As he’d have to wait for the opportunity to go after Eve Duncan. But time was running out. She might be getting close.

Walsh could imagine that Duncan bitch sitting working on that damn skull and making that kid’s face come alive again. Damn Nalchek. Any other small-town sheriff would have just let that skeleton be reburied somewhere and eventually filed the paperwork and let the little girl be forgotten.

But Eve Duncan wasn’t going to let her be forgotten.

So Eve Duncan would have to be removed.

*   *   *

“Okay, here we go.” Eve could feel the tension grip her muscles as she stared at the reconstruction. “I’ve done all the prep work I can. It’s time we started working together on this.”

No answer.

“Listen, Jenny, this isn’t the time for you to opt out. Help me.”

No answer.

Ignore the rejection and hope she would come in later.

Smooth the clay.

Such a small skull.

So delicate …

She had to be sensitive, gentle.

No mistakes.

She let the tips of her fingers move of their own volition.

Help me, Jenny.

The clay was cool … no, it was warmer now. As warm as her own fingers moving, molding.

Nose?

It had to be generic.

Instinct. Just use instinct.

Mouth.

Generic again. She’d measured the width but had to guess at the shape. A child’s mouth, sensitive, because Jenny was so sensitive.

Eyes. So very difficult. No measurements, very few scientific indicators. Okay, study the shape and the angle of the orbits. That angle and the bony ridge above it would help her decide the shape. Keep them in mind but don’t do the eyes yet. It always made her excited to see the eyes staring at her, and she might hurry the rest of the process.

Do the cheeks.

Fill in.

Smooth.

The other cheek.

Smooth.

She was going too fast. Slow down. Measurements were still important. Check them.

Nose width. Okay.

Lip height. Okay. No, bring the top lip down. It’s usually thinner than the bottom.

There’s a major muscle around the mouth, build it up.

But Jenny was a child and would have a child’s fullness.

No, thin face.

Where had that come from? It didn’t matter if it was instinct or Jenny.

Just go with it.

Mold.

Smooth.

Fill in.

Her hands were flying over that small face now.

Deepen.

Mold.

Smooth.

Fill in.

The chin.

More pointed.

Smooth.

Brows.

Winged.

Odd. Why?

Just do it.

Slow down. Her hands were too feverish.

No, they aren’t.

Go ahead.

Smooth.

Mold.

Fill in.

But there was only a little more to fill in.

Smooth it.

Mold?

No, just the smoothing.

Fast.

Sure.

Let it come.

Let her come.

Blinding speed. Her heart was beating hard.

The reconstruction was only a blur.

Finished.

She leaned back, and her hands dropped away from the skull.

Only it wasn’t a skull any longer.

It was Jenny.

No, not yet.

She reached into the drawer and drew out her eye case.

Eyes.

Jenny had to have eyes.

Eve looked down at the glass eyeballs. She usually chose brown, they were the most common.

She started to reach for them.

“Green.”

Eve stopped. “Now you appear. I could have used a little more help, Jenny.”

“I tried to help. It was hard to remember … It’s not important here where I am now.”

“Well, it’s still important to me.” She took the green eyes from the case. “And it’s important to Sheriff Nalchek.” She paused. “And it may be important to the person who put you in that grave.”

“But you did pretty well without me, didn’t you? You must be very smart, Eve.”

“Flattery? You must be fairly smart yourself, Jenny.” She was inserting the right eye carefully in the right cavity. “Green eyes are very noticeable. That might help. Who did you take after? Your mother or your father?”

“I don’t know. They’re not … I don’t remember.”

Distress. Veer away from the pain she sensed. “It doesn’t matter.” She inserted the other eyeball and smoothed the clay around the orbital cavity. “What’s important is that the eyes might trigger a memory that—”

She broke off and inhaled sharply.

Finished. The reconstruction was completely finished.

And the full impact of the work that she’d just done hit home to her.

“Jenny?”

She reached out and gently touched the cheek of the sculpture. She almost expected it to be warm with life. The little girl’s expression seemed to radiate vitality and enthusiasm. Even those wide-set green eyes seemed to glow with a kind of wonder in that small, triangular face. Pointed chin, high cheekbones, and winged brows gave the child an elfin quality. But it was the vitality, the wonder, that held Eve spellbound.

And some monster had killed this?

She cleared her throat to ease its tightness. “Perhaps you helped me more than either one of us thought, Jenny. I believe you must have been a very special little girl. I’d bet you enjoyed every minute of your life. I’m sorry you don’t remember more of it.”

“I don’t have to remember. The joy has been with me while I was waiting. The most important thing I got to take with me.”

“What thing?”

“Why, the music, Eve. It’s still part of me. It’s still here.”

“Music? What do you mean, Jenny?”

No answer.

“Okay, I guess I shouldn’t expect more than one breakthrough at a time.” She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. “And tonight I got a big one. I have a face. Tomorrow, I’ll take photos and run it through my computer program for any matches. The program isn’t as extensive as FBI and police databases, but I might get lucky.”

“You’re happy. I like to see you like this.”

“I did my job, and I came up with one great product. It gives me a sense of satisfaction to know what you look like. It’s like solving a mystery. Now I know to whom I’m talking.”

“It’s not only because of what happened to me?”

“No, a whisper from the great beyond is better than nothing, but I’m a visual person.” She looked back at the reconstruction. “You know, sometimes I don’t even do brows but you must have been insistent.” She got to her feet and arched her back. “And now I’m going to shower and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” She had a sudden thought. “Or not. Maybe you’ll disappear now that I’ve finished your reconstruction.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Oh.” Why did she feel this relief? “You and the music?”

“You’re smiling. I’m sorry I can’t explain about the music. It’s just that—”

“You don’t have to explain anything unless you want to. We’re just ships that pass in the night. I don’t have to know. You’ve been hurt, and you’re in a place I can’t possibly understand.”

“Ships that pass … I don’t think so, Eve.”

“Time will tell.”

“You’re going to bed with your Joe again?”

“Absolutely.”

“You were very happy at what he was doing to your body that first night I came. Are you going to do that again?”

Her mouth fell open. “What?” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. Jenny, I had no idea you were– Do you know what a peeping Tom is?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what you did when you watched me and Joe—” But did she watch? Was she just attuned to Eve and aware of her feelings? “Whatever you did, that was a private moment and not to be shared without invitation. Do you understand?”

“But I liked it. It was … happy and excited.”

“Yes, it was.” And a happiness Jenny would never know. So many experiences she would never know. “But it’s still private, and you shouldn’t intrude. Okay?”

Silence. “I guess.”

Reluctant at best. Eve wasn’t sure that she either understood or would comply. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Still that thread of wistfulness. “But I didn’t mean to hurt anyone…”

“I know you didn’t. And you didn’t hurt me, Jenny. It’s just the way people feel about—” Oh, give it up. She didn’t even know how much a nine-year-old Jenny knew about sex. She was glad that she didn’t seem to feel anything horrific connected to it. It was always a fear in a child’s murder. “Good night, Jenny.”

“Good night, Eve.”

*   *   *

“Is she finished?” Joe asked drowsily as Eve climbed into bed forty-five minutes later.

“Yes.” She cuddled close. “It turned out exceptionally well. She has a very memorable face. She kind of reminded me of a young Audrey Hepburn. Unusual…”

“Everything about her has been unusual.” He brushed his lips across her temple. “But I’m glad that she’ll be out of your head soon.”

But would she? Eve wondered. Jenny was full of mysteries and contradictions, and Eve was irresistibly drawn to try to solve them. “I suppose I’ll be glad, too.”

“Suppose?”

“Jenny is appealing. She … touches me. Do you know, I’ve been wondering if there’s some reason why I can communicate with her. That maybe I was meant to help her.”

“You are helping her. You did her reconstruction.”

“Maybe I was meant to go a step further.”

Joe was silent, his arms tightening around her. “I’m not going to argue with you. You’ll do what you think is right.” He added harshly, “But I don’t like it, dammit.”

“I’m not sure I do, either. And I’ll probably send her off to Sheriff Nalchek tomorrow. He can do more than I can to find out who she is. It’s just…” She wearily shook her head. “She’s become too close to me. I feel as if I’m responsible for her.”

“Eve.”

“I know. I know.” She suddenly chuckled. “I wish Bonnie would drop in and have a chat with me. I could use a little advice from the other side. Jenny isn’t nearly as integrated there as Bonnie, and she seems to be missing key memories. Maybe Bonnie could help her out.”

“Send your Jenny to Nalchek,” he said firmly.

She nodded. “You’re right.” She turned in his arms and clasped him tightly. “I can’t be responsible for everyone. I have to pick and choose.” She kissed him. “And I choose you.”

“And I humbly thank you.” He raised himself on one elbow and smiled down at her. “Does that choice offer fringe benefits?”

“You bet it does.” She kissed him, long and deep. She felt the familiar stirring, the hot need that never changed and yet was forever new. She pulled her sleep shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor beside the bed. “All you have to do is put in a request.” She climbed on top of him. “Or not.”

He chuckled. “Consider it entered.” His smile faded, and he was suddenly intense. “And then let’s do a little more entering.” His hands were on her breasts. “And I’ll prove you didn’t make a mistake in making that choice.”

And would Jenny be aware that they were making love, Eve wondered suddenly. It was possible. She was curious. She had liked the warmth.

“Eve? Something wrong?”

And what difference did it make, Eve thought recklessly. There was no shame in the love she and Joe shared. It was beautiful, and the warmth that Jenny had noticed lit up both their lives.

“No, nothing is wrong. Everything is right.” She leaned down and whispered, “I love you, Joe Quinn.”

*   *   *

“I see what you mean.” Joe was looking at the reconstruction on the worktable when she came out of the bathroom the next morning. “She’s extraordinary. You’re right, unusual. You usually get the resemblance right but she looks … alive. And there’s an amazing joi de vivre.”

“Yes.” She went to the cabinet and poured a cup of coffee. “My first thought was how could anyone kill anyone who had that much joy in living. She’s almost … alight.”

“And that made you think that maybe you should be doing something more.”

She nodded. “But Nalchek can do it. I’ve done my part.”

“She goes off today?”

“This afternoon. I’ll do the photographs and the computer input this morning.” She followed him out to the porch. “Then I’ll call Nalchek and FedEx.”

“Good.” He gave her a quick kiss, then glanced over his shoulder as he started down the porch steps. “And keep the door locked until you get that FedEx box on its way. Okay?”

“Sure. But you said there was no sign of an intruder yesterday.”

“That doesn’t mean that there might not have been one. It just means that he could have been very good.” He got into the car. “Better to be safe. I’ll call you later and see how it’s going.”

“Joe, it’s going to be fine.” She blew him a kiss. “I’m almost at the end of this job. I’ll see you tonight.”

She watched him drive away, then stood a moment looking out at the lake. She wasn’t as confident as she’d let Joe believe. Joe believed it his duty to be suspicious in order to protect her. She only had instinct.

And that instinct was making her uneasy.

She would definitely keep the door locked today.

And she didn’t want to keep standing here and staring out at the lake and the woods.

She went back into the cottage, closed the door, and locked it.

“He’s worried about you,” Jenny said. “And you’re worried, too.”

Eve’s gaze flew to the reconstruction across the room.

“No, not there. I keep telling you that I don’t really have a connection with that skull. I’m here, Eve.”

Eve slowly turned and gazed at the couch.

Jenny.

Sitting on the couch, wearing a long white eyelet dress with an empire waist and long, bell sleeves. She had black, patent-leather shoes on her small feet and her long, shiny, black hair was tied back away from her face with a white satin ribbon. She looked younger than nine except for that remarkable face and a brilliant smile that Eve would not even have attempted to capture in the reconstruction.

“Well, this is a surprise.” Eve was a little breathless. “No, more of a shock. I wasn’t expecting this, Jenny.”

“But you like it?” Jenny asked eagerly. “You were so happy when you could see my face at last. I want you to be happy, Eve. I thought if I concentrated, I could do this and it worked.”

“It certainly did.” Eve smiled. “And, yes, I’m very happy to see the entire product. You’re all dressed up as if you’re going to a birthday party. Very elegant. What was the occasion?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a party. I think I wore this dress a lot.”

“It’s very pretty. You’re very pretty.” Her smile faded as a thought occurred to her. Had Jenny been killed in this white eyelet dress? Bonnie always appeared to Eve in her jeans and Bugs Bunny T-shirt she’d worn when she was taken. Forget it. Accept that Jenny had appeared in an outfit that she’d worn while alive to please Eve and let any sadness go. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.” She lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip of coffee. “I just wish that you could remember a few other things besides that dress.”

“I’ll try.” Jenny was smiling eagerly. “Things are coming back to me all the time. But this did please you, and it’s easier than the rest. There are all kinds of confusing stuff that I don’t think I’m supposed to know yet.” She tilted her head. “Maybe we’re supposed to find out together.”

“I don’t think so, Jenny. Sheriff Nalchek has better ways than I do to find out what happened to you. I’m sending your reconstruction back to him today.”

Her smile faded. “I know that’s what you said. I thought maybe you’d change your mind.” She lifted her chin. “But that’s all right. I know you’re busy, and you have Joe. I’m sure everything is going to work out fine. I just don’t know how right now.”

And Eve was having that now-familiar urge to comfort and hold her. “Neither do I. But I’ll be in contact with the sheriff, and he’ll give me progress reports on what’s going on with you. He’s a good man and he cares what happens to you.”

Silence, then a wistful, “But he’s not you, Eve.”

What was she supposed to say to that?

“I’ve upset you. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Jenny added quickly, “There’s always the music.”

The music again. It seemed to be Jenny’s safe haven when she was upset or afraid. “Yes, you told me it was always there. What kind of music?”

“All kinds. I like Chopin best. He makes my heart sing. Though Brahms soothes and takes away the pain.”

And it was breaking Eve’s heart that she was the one who had caused that pain. She moved toward the reconstruction. “I have to do the computer program on the reconstruction now. But you might remember something else, that there are always the memories of you that are held by the people who loved you.” She added, “Who still love you, Jenny.”

No answer.

Jenny was gone.

And Eve was looking down at the reconstruction of that little girl who had worn her pretty white dress to please Eve and make her happy.

She blinked back the stinging moisture and started to set up her computer.

It’s the right thing to do, Jenny.

12:40 P.M.

“Sorry, I was a little late, Ms. Duncan. I know you requested a morning pickup.” Ted Donner, the FedEx driver, was entering her package onto his computer. “The company had me pick up a few packages on another route.”

“No problem. I had some computer work to do anyway.” She smiled. Donner had been covering this route for the last four years, and he’d always been reliable. “Just so it gets to California tomorrow. I have a sheriff out there who will be on my case if it doesn’t.”

“We’ll get it there.” He turned and ran down the steps. “Have a nice day.”

“You, too, Ted.”

Eve stood there watching the FedEx truck drive away from the cottage and down the road. Usually, she felt relief and satisfaction at a job well-done when she saw her reconstructions depart her custody.

Not this time.

She was feeling sad and a nagging sense that she had failed Jenny.

Nonsense. She had done exactly what Nalchek had asked of her. It was possibly the best reconstruction she had ever done. Any emotional backfire had to be caused by the fact that she had begun to be too close to the little girl. It had been logical and practical for her to send that skull and the other information to law enforcement, who had the means to take the search a step further.

Logical.

Almost from the beginning, there had been nothing logical about her approach to Jenny’s reconstruction. She had that in common with Nalchek. They had both been swept away by the mystery that surrounded Jenny. That might have been a good thing because it had caused both of them to exert all their efforts to solve that mystery.

But now her part was over, and logic had to rule. She’d feel better after she called Nalchek and told him that Jenny was on her way to him.

She turned and went back into the cottage.

Empty.

Of course, it was empty. Joe was at work.

And she was done with Jenny and had told her that she was now in Nalchek’s hands.

She took out her phone and dialed Nalchek. “I’ve just FedExed the reconstruction to you,” she told him when he picked up. “I think you’ll be pleased. She has a very memorable face and should be easy to ID if you’re able to get cooperation from the media. I’m doing a last check of the computer photos, and I’ll be e-mailing them to you later today.”

“Great.” Nalchek’s voice was sharp. “And you overnighted that skull?”

“Of course. She should be there before ten tomorrow.”

“Sorry. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.” He paused. “And I just got back from a memorial service for Ron Carstairs. It was hell.”

“They usually are. And I’m the one who is sorry for your loss. I hope when you get the reconstruction, that it will help you to feel a little better.”

“Thanks,” he said curtly. “But that may take a long time.” He hung up.

So much for calling Nalchek to make her feel what she’d done was worthwhile. It had only reinforced how wrong everything had gone on Jenny’s case.

She found her gaze wandering over to the couch where she’d last seen Jenny.

Of course, she wasn’t there.

Work.

Finish up the photos.

That would distract her.

She put her phone on her worktable and opened her computer.

2:45 P.M.

One more adjustment …

Eve zeroed the computer camera in on Jenny’s delicately pointed chin that she’d sculpted on the reconstruction.

And her cell phone rang.

Joe calling to check? She’d tell him she’d call him back.

Not Joe.

FedEx.

Dammit, had she forgotten to fill out one of those many boxes on the form?

She punched the access. “Look, did I make a mistake? Can we correct it on the phone? That box has to be in California in the morning.”

“No mistake, Ms. Duncan. This is the dispatcher, we just wanted to make sure that the driver picked up your package. We show he did, but you’re the last one before we lost contact.”

She stiffened. “Lost contact?”

“I can’t talk to you any longer. I was just authorized to check. We have the police and a company representative who will be on their way to—”

“Police? What the hell are you talking about?”

“An accident,” he said quickly. “Our FedEx driver had an accident.”

“What? Where?”

“On Quinn Road, a few miles from the expressway. That’s why we were almost sure he’d made the pickup.” He paused. “But we can’t locate the package. Don’t worry, I’m sure that we will. And, as I said, a company representative will—”

“Can’t locate the—” She jumped to her feet. “This is weird as hell. And why would anyone send the police with that FedEx rep?” She was heading for the front door. “You’re not telling me the truth.” She slammed the door, locked it, and ran down the porch steps. “Let me talk to your supervisor.” No, that would just be adding to the red tape. “Never mind.” She hung up and called Joe as she jumped into the Jeep. Voice mail. “Joe, something crazy is happening with that FedEx I sent out a couple hours ago. I’m on my way to check it out. Call me.”