Dark Tribute--An Eve Duncan Novel

by Iris Johansen

“You could still be wrong about Kaskov. You don’t know him that well.”

  “I’ve talked to him on the phone. I’ve watched him with Cara. I’ve seen how ruthless he can be when he wants something. I’ve also seen that he’s complicated and that he kept his word to save Michael and me when he could have broken it. I know him well enough to know that he’s not a monster. Neither is Nikolai.” She couldn’t stop shivering. “You don’t want to believe it, but it’s true.” She was trying to keep her voice from shaking. “And that means you have to find her soon, Jock. Because she’s not with Kaskov. She’s with him.”

  “You’re damn right I don’t want to believe you,” he said roughly. “You’re scaring me to death. How do you know it’s not just your imagination? Nikolai was there. It’s only reasonable that—” He broke off and started to swear. “But I can’t count on anything being reasonable, can I?” he asked bitterly. “Not when I know you’d never tell me this if you didn’t believe it. And I trust you, dammit. You wouldn’t send me down a wrong path when it might mean Cara could die.”

  “No, I would never do that. You know I love her.” She swallowed. “And you’re right, she could die. If you don’t hurry. Unless he has some agenda that makes him wait. Sometimes that happens, and they live for a while after they’re taken.”

  “And I’m supposed to hope that this murderer has an agenda?” A muscle jerked in his cheek. “So that he won’t kill her before I can—”

  “May I come out now?” Michael was standing in the doorway, his brown eyes enormous as he stared at Eve. “I don’t like what’s happening with you. Are you okay, Mom?”

  “I’m fine, Michael.” She smiled with an effort. She held out her arms, and he ran to her. She held him close for a moment. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” She nodded at Jock. “Ask your friend here. We’re just talking. He was about to leave anyway.”

  “You’re cold,” Michael whispered. “You’re shaking.” He whirled to Jock. “She’s hurting,” he said fiercely. “Did you do it?”

  “I’m afraid it might have been partly my fault.”

  “You shouldn’t have done it.” Then, as he studied him, the anger faded. “But you’re hurting, too. Why?” He answered himself. “It’s Cara.” He turned back to Eve. “Dad found out something bad, didn’t he? How bad?”

  She wouldn’t lie to him. “We don’t know yet. We don’t know where she is. But we’re going to find out. Your dad is looking for her now.” She gazed at Jock over Michael’s shoulder. “And as soon as he leaves here, Jock will be looking for her, too. He was just going to tell me where.”

  “Where do you think I’m going?” Jock asked roughly. “I don’t have any choice. We only have one possible clue. You might not believe Kaskov is guilty, but Nikolai was at that hotel at the same time she was taken. That means Kaskov knows something.” He turned to leave, and added grimly, “And I guarantee he’ll tell me what he knows. I just have to find him.”

  “Hurry,” Eve said. “You have to hurry, Jock.”

  He flinched. “So you told me.” He headed for the porch steps. “There’s no question about that. Regardless of whether I believe you’re right about this or not, I’d never take the chance.”

  “But you do believe I’m right,” she said unsteadily. “Be careful. Let me know how I can help.”

  “Joe and I will have it covered.” He cast a quick glance at Michael. “Take care of your mom. I’ll find Cara.”

  “I always take care of her,” Michael said gravely. “See you, Jock.”

  He nodded. The next moment he was running down the steps.

  Michael watched Jock get into his car before turning back to Eve. “He’s scared.” He leaned against her. “So are you.”

  “Yes.” Her arms tightened around him. “This … isn’t … good. We can’t let Cara stay lost. I have to find her.”

  “I know. Jock didn’t understand that you’d have to go look for her.” He took a step back. “All he’s thinking about is how much he’s hurting and that he has to get to her.”

  “But you understand?” Eve asked. “Of course you do. Cara is family. We have to bring her home. I was the one who brought her to this house and told her that she’d always have a home here. That makes her my responsibility. I can’t sit and wait for anyone else to find her. It has to be me.”

  “I understand.” His hands nervously grasped her arms. “She’s my family, too. She’s as much my sister as Jane. But I don’t think that’s what you’re trying to tell me, is it?”

  “Not tell you, ask you. When your dad or Jock find out where Cara is, I have to go and help. But I can’t leave you unless I know you’re safe. Will you let me drop you off at Catherine Ling’s place to stay with her and Luke until I come back?”

  He immediately shook his head. “I should go with you.”

  “No, I’d only worry about you.” Not that she wouldn’t worry anyway. But Catherine Ling was a CIA agent who was also Eve’s good friend, and trust was everything. “Please, Michael. It’s my job, not yours.”

  “Because she’s your responsibility? Isn’t that what you said?” He met her eyes. “But I brought Cara here this time. She wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t done what I did. So she’s my responsibility.”

  “We don’t know that it wouldn’t have happened.” She didn’t know what else to say. That monsters could attack with no warning or excuse? “Think about it. Maybe your dad will be able to find Cara right away, and I won’t have to help.” She got to her feet. “And now I’m going to call your dad and tell him what Jock and I discussed and find out if he knows anything more.” She headed for the door. “And then I’m going to try to keep myself busy and work on that reconstruction of Dennis. I hope you’re not going to raise any objections about my working today?”

  “No,” he said soberly. “I think Dennis might help you.”

  She wasn’t sure he was right, she thought wearily, as she went into the house. She gazed at the skull on which she had spent hours repairing the bullet hole in the right temple. It had been clear Dennis was the victim of one of the monsters she had told Jock about. Had the bullet come without warning or had the monster taunted the little boy? Ordinarily, she didn’t torture herself with painful questions until the reconstruction was complete. She just went about doing her job with gentleness and compassion to bring them home. It was after she sent them back to whatever law-enforcement office had requested her services that she let herself think about the monsters.

  She went slowly over to her worktable and touched the skull. Was it hard for you? I hope it came quickly.

  Did you know your monster?

  Were you frightened, Dennis?

  She closed her eyes as the tears stung.

  And are you frightened, my Cara?

  * * *

  Darkness …

  Music …

  Cara’s heart was pounding so hard it was hurting.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  She wanted to scream, but there was something in her mouth.

  She tried to move her arms, but her wrists were tied.

  But she could move her legs, and she began to kick out.

  “Stop it.” It was a man’s deep voice, filled with impatience. “I knew you’d be this disturbing. I could tell you’d have no sense of dignity.”

  She tried to speak, to ask him to take out this damn gag. She kicked out again and connected with something.

  Swearing.

  Then he was tearing the blindfold off her eyes.

  A stinging blow to her cheek!

  Her head jerked back and hit the floor.

  Dizziness.

  “Behave. I don’t want to have to kill you yet.” He slapped her again. “You have duties to perform.”

  What was happening to her? Cara kept her eyes closed to buy time until she could gather her senses and try to think. Whatever it was that was happening, it was terrifying. All she could remember was the darkness of the bedroom, then the sharpness of a needle in the back of h
er neck. A sedative …

  Why?

  And who? She wasn’t going to learn that by playing possum.

  She opened her eyes.

  A man was sitting in an easy chair only a few yards from where she lay on the floor. “Good evening.” His voice was smooth, the tone sounded modulated and educated with just a hint of an accent of some kind. “Are we ready to begin?” He was not a young man; his skin was firm but crinkled at the corners of his slanted dark eyes, his hair pure white but elegantly barbered. His thin, spare body also possessed a certain elegance in the beige trousers and silk shirt set off by a dark paisley vest. “I do hope so.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “You’ve been terribly boring. I thought you’d regain consciousness much sooner. Though I didn’t expect all that disgusting kicking and grunting.”

  She made another disgusting grunt behind that gag.

  “Oh, very well. You can’t be expected to be very entertaining if I can’t talk to you.” He reached down and jerked down the gag. “If you scream, I won’t put the gag back, I’ll sew your lips shut.”

  She believed him. His eyes were gleaming catlike as he stared at her. He wanted to do it. She felt the fear ice through her as she realized what kind of man this was. Careful. She had to be very careful. “I won’t scream. I won’t do anything that you don’t want me to do. I only want you to let me go.”

  “I’m afraid that would be impossible. I chose you very carefully. I need you to perform for me.”

  “Chose me? I’ve never seen you before.”

  “But I’ve seen you, Cara.” He reached down and stroked her cheek. “And I know how you manage to charm all those people who listen to you. You have no real talent, but you’ve found ways to fool them. Even I have to fight it.”

  His touch was delicate and those cat eyes … It was like being stroked by a jaguar that was probing before the strike. Keep him talking. Find out everything she could about him. “I’ve never wanted to fool anyone. I’ve just wanted to play for them.” Where was she? What could tell her what she needed to know? Her gaze flew around the room. Not large. It looked like the interior of a cabin. A fireplace, easy chair, a kitchenette. A huge TV on the far wall.

  And the music …

  The strains of the Mendelssohn violin concerto.

  She vaguely remembered the sound of that music when she’d been regaining consciousness.

  “You’re looking for a way out?” He laughed as he studied her expression. “It will be amusing to watch you try to find one.”

  “It can’t be very amusing when you have my hands tied like this. Not amusing and not brave. It’s not as if I’m much of threat. Just look at me.”

  “It’s true you appear very fragile. But your guardian is a police detective. Surely he’s taught you to protect yourself.”

  He knew about Joe. Not good. Everything he knew about her made her position weaker. But she’d already decided he was not going to be easily fooled. “Naturally, but I’m a musician, not a ninja.”

  “But I believe you may be very intelligent. So the ropes will remain for the time being, Cara.”

  “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  “How rude of me. I should really level the playing field as much as possible. I’m John Svardak.” He took another swallow of his whiskey. “Now you have a name to tell your Joe Quinn if you happen to run into him on one of your strolls.”

  “Strolls?”

  “Just a bit of whimsy. You’ll understand later.” He bent down and took off her gag. “I find whimsy comforting when the world sometimes seems very dark. Would you like a drink of water? You haven’t had anything since I took you from that lovely suite in Atlanta.” He frowned. “I had to wait a long time for you to come back that night. I was beginning to get annoyed. You looked so pure and innocent in that gown. I should have known that you’d show yourself to be the slut you are once you got away from an audience. Who did you fuck before you staggered back to your room?”

  Then he didn’t know about Jock. “No one. I was just out with a friend.”

  “You’re lying. Oh well, it’s not important. But you made me angry by keeping me waiting. I’m afraid I did serious damage to your pretty gown.”

  She looked down and realized that she was no longer wearing the white lace gown. She had on a pair of khaki jeans, tennis shoes, and a loose white shirt. Why would he go to the trouble of changing her clothes? It was on a par with the rest of his bizarre actions. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t like it anyway.”

  “How kind of you to absolve me of blame. But I really think I have to show you why you mustn’t irritate me. Actually, I’ve been looking forward to it.” He got to his feet. “One has to know where one stands in the scheme of things.”

  “And where do you stand? Svardak? Is that a Russian accent?”

  “I was actually born in Estonia. And I ask the questions, Cara.” He reached down and pulled her to her feet. As she swayed, he caught her by the waist to steady her. “Definitely not displaying any ninja qualities. Perhaps you were telling the truth.” He clicked a button, and the TV on the wall began to glow. “Now watch closely.”

  Her suite at the Marquis.

  Blood.

  Everywhere.

  He was moving around the bedroom slinging it from a large vial. The bed, the carpet, the wall. Then he moved to the bathroom. Her gown lying on the vanity was torn and barely recognizable.

  She inhaled sharply as she watched him hurl the blood on the lace. It wasn’t the damage but the force of his action that frightened her most. She could believe he’d been angry with her when he’d destroyed this room. Angry … and unhinged.

  She had to take a moment before she could speak. “So now you’ve shown me.” Her gaze was still fixed on that blood-spattered gown so that she wouldn’t have to look at his face. “You’ve destroyed a perfectly nice gown and caused the hotel housekeeper at the Marquis a good deal of extra work with all that blood. Since I was unconscious, who were you intending to intimidate with such a useless action?”

  His hand tightened on her waist and an unexplainable expression flickered over his face. For an instant she thought it was rage, but then he smiled. “You have courage. I might enjoy our time together.” He tilted his head. “Who would be intimidated? Who would go over this scene with an entire team to find some trace of you? Joe Quinn. Don’t you believe he would be filled with fear and rage?”

  “Joe is tough. He wouldn’t be afraid of you.” But Joe would be afraid for her she knew. She had been so shocked and bewildered since she had regained consciousness that she still couldn’t put everything together yet. It was the second time Svardak had mentioned Joe, and she was definitely uneasy. “And he’s used to blood. It won’t take him long to find out it’s not mine. Even if it’s the same type. There’s DNA these days.” She stiffened as her gaze flew to his face. She had to ask him. “Whose blood is it?”

  “I might have stolen it from a slaughterhouse.” His gaze was watching her expression maliciously. “Or I might have broken into a Red Cross blood bank,” he murmured. “But I needed so much. You haven’t seen all of it.” He turned the video back on and was leading her back into the bedroom. “And this was most important of all.”

  The violin.

  Blood coating the strings.

  Blood gushing from the F-holes.

  Shock.

  She felt as if that blood was smothering her as it was smothering any music that violin could ever produce. She was struggling to keep from gagging.

  “I thought that might disturb you a bit,” Svardak said. “But you can see how I needed so much blood. It was necessary to impress not only you but your devoted guardian.”

  She shook her head to clear it. “It’s not even my violin.”

  “No, I couldn’t bear to use that beautiful Amati for the demonstration. Besides, I needed it for you.” He enlarged the image of the violin. “And after all, it’s only right she have her tribute.”

  She moistened her
lips. “She?”

  “Marian Napier.” He nodded at a black-and-white photograph on the wall portraying a young woman holding a violin. “It was Marian’s violin.” He turned and smiled into Cara’s eyes. “So was the blood.”

  He wanted to see the shock and horror. She could see the hunger and anticipation. Don’t give it to him. Whatever he wanted, don’t give it to him. “You killed her?”

  “That’s obvious, isn’t it? You mustn’t be too upset. She was even less worthy than you.” He tilted his head as he punched a button on the remote, and the music of the violin concerto flooded the room. “Just listen to her.” He grimaced. “A total amateur. Her string work was abominable. I tried to guide her technique, but she couldn’t grasp the proper way to do it. Of course, she was under stress when she made that CD for me.”

  The music was surrounding Cara. Now that it was louder she could hear the faint vibrato as the artist tried to perform the concerto. But the technique was terribly stilted. The shakiness of the bow strokes … the agony of trying to create beauty out of sheer terror.

  “Why?” she choked. “For God’s sake, why?”

  “I gave you a hint. Perhaps you’re not as clever as I thought you might be.” He smiled. “It’s all about tribute, Cara.”

  The music was swelling and so was the agonized sadness Cara was feeling as she listened. “Will you turn off that CD? It’s making me ill.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that.” But he didn’t turn down the volume on the CD. His gaze was fixed hungrily on her expression, drinking it in. “Perhaps we’ll only use it as dinner music.”

  “Dinner? You mean you intend to keep me alive for a while? Why?”

  “The same reason that I had to discard Marian. Tribute. I’ve only been able to offer Anna inferior gifts of late, but you’re very special for many reasons.”

  “Anna?”

  “Questions.” He smiled. “You’re full of questions. You’re hoping to turn questions into answers that might save you. I might even answer them sometime. It depends on how cooperative I find you.”

  “I’ll keep asking,” she said. She couldn’t stand that music any longer, and she added recklessly, “And I think you’ll answer because you’re egotistical and a little crazy and you want someone to think how superior you are.”