Shadow Play

by Iris Johansen

  Was the Toyota closer?

  Maybe.

  “If I don’t get there right away, don’t leave the cave. Try to hide if someone comes. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t get in any cars that aren’t familiar to you.”

  “I can tell you’re scared. I’m scared for you. What’s going on?”

  “Sometimes bad things happen.” She paused. “But we can beat this, Cara.”

  Cara was silent. “It’s going to happen again?” she whispered.

  “Not if we can help it,” she said. “But you have to do as I say. Get out of there. You know what you have to do. We’ve talked about it. Just follow the plan. Be strong. Call me when you get to the cave.” She was about to press the disconnect, but she couldn’t leave her like this. “I love you, Cara. I’ve … always loved you.” She hung up.

  She drew a deep breath. It would take another fifteen minutes to get to Cara’s school, and, hopefully, Cara would be long gone by the time she pulled up in front of the building. But she still had to give her any extra time she could. She would wait there at least another thirty minutes before she left the school.

  Then she would try to lose that Toyota before she made her way down Pacific Highway.

  But she doubted if the driver would allow her to do it. If it was Walsh, then he was expert at all kinds of deadly games. He would have probably only been tailing her until she picked up Cara. Then he would have had both of them in his sights.

  Don’t think about what might happen next. She had a gun in her glove compartment. The two of them had survived this long. They would get through this, too.

  All she had to do was stall and give Cara time to get away.

  CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER

  Screw those databases, Joe thought, as he watched Eve walk down the hall. There wasn’t time to go through the effort again. He had stored enough information in his head; now he needed to analyze and put it all in perspective. Then he had to lay out the pieces of the puzzle and put them all together.

  Fast.

  Sounded simple, he thought grimly. It wasn’t going to be simple. There were all kinds of variables and possibilities.

  But it had to be done. Eve was getting close, and that meant Walsh would be targeting her. He had to be ready for him. He couldn’t do that without knowing his strengths and weaknesses.

  And his objectives.

  He sat up in bed and reached for his yellow pad. Start at the beginning. List everything he knew about the main principals and locations. He drew three columns. WALSH. JENNY. Then he hesitated and added one more column. NALCHEK.

  * * *

  “All I want to do is see the yearbooks,” Eve said patiently. “I’ll be glad to give you references with the Atlanta PD and several other law-enforcement organizations in California. I’ve no desire to pose a threat to any of these students.”

  Josie Coultan was still not convinced. “I don’t know that.” She took the card that Eve handed her and gazed at it suspiciously. “And anyone could have cards made up.”

  “Absolutely right,” Eve said. “And I applaud you for being careful.” It was the truth. This woman was completely different from that first photographer they’d run across in Sacramento, but they evidently had similar values. But she wished she wouldn’t be quite this careful. Josie Coultan’s photography studio was the third one she and Margaret had visited this afternoon, and she felt as if time was running out. “Just call Sheriff Nalchek, and we’ll wait until you’re satisfied.” She got to her feet and moved to look at the photos on the wall. “These wedding photos are amazing, Ms. Coultan.”

  “Josie. My specialty. I just do the school photos to add to my income.” She frowned as she started to dial the number. “But you have to be careful with kids. I don’t know if it’s worth the trouble. You have parents thinking that I didn’t do justice to their darlings, you have divorced couples who battle who is going to pay me.”

  “That’s not what we’re looking for. We’re trying to find a child who didn’t want to have her picture taken.”

  “Oh, there aren’t many of those. When? How old?”

  “We’re thinking ten, eleven,” Margaret said as she knelt to stroke the white Persian cat sitting on a turquoise pillow on the low table. “This boy is amazing. What do you call him?”

  “Royal. I’ve had him for four years.”

  “You need to change his diet. He doesn’t like that new cat food you’re giving him. He’s been losing weight.”

  “What?”

  “Weigh him. Your husband feeds him, doesn’t he? He’s not been paying attention, and Royal is getting very pissed.”

  “What are you—”

  Eve stepped in quickly. “Margaret volunteers with a local vet office.” Lord, all they needed was to have Margaret start a family feud. “She has a good eye, doesn’t she?”

  “Perhaps.” Josie spoke into the phone. “Sheriff Nalchek, I have two women here who gave you as a reference. Will you confirm that it’s…”

  “And he hates the name Royal,” Margaret said in a low voice to Eve. “He thinks it’s pretentious. He doesn’t need that nonsense.”

  “Do me a favor and let Royal handle his own dietary needs.”

  “Don’t worry, he intends to do that. I just thought I’d hurry things along. He was going to start a hunger strike to scare them tomorrow.”

  “Sheriff Nalchek informs me that you’re no threat,” Josie said behind them as she hung up the phone. “I’ll get those yearbooks. I did the work at four area schools during the past five years. I always request a complimentary copy of the actual book. I’ll go get them for you.” She got to her feet and headed for a door that led to the back of the shop.

  “Like pulling teeth,” Margaret murmured.

  “At least she’s cooperating now,” Eve said. “We’ll split up the books to get through them faster.” She turned with a smile as the photographer returned burdened by the yearbooks. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.” She took two of the books and handed two to Margaret. “But I wonder if we might hurry things along if I showed you a photo that was in the paper this morning. It could trigger your memory.” She handed her the folded newspaper. “It’s a reconstruction I worked on several days ago.”

  Josie glanced at the photo. “I saw this photo this morning. I was thinking how appalling the photography was. I could have done much better.”

  “But you didn’t recognize the child.”

  “I didn’t pay much attention. You see one kid, you see them all.”

  “Really?”

  She made a face. “I suppose I shouldn’t say that? But I’m so sick of having to do those photos. Every one is the same. No grace, no glamour, like a wedding photo.”

  “And no fat price to sweeten that glamour,” Margaret said.

  “They’re not all the same,” Eve said quickly. “Look at her face. We believe that the girl we’re looking for might be a relative of this dead child.”

  Josie studied the photo. “Nice bone structure. Very photogenic. I’d probably remember if I took her photo.”

  “But you don’t remember her?”

  She shook her head. “It’s like an assembly line. There’s no way I can make any of them stand out. No grace. No drama. I’d probably try with this one, but if she didn’t pay to have her photo taken, I wouldn’t bother. But what a bride she would have made someday. Pity that she—” She stopped. “Maybe I do remember…” She snatched last year’s yearbook from Eve. “A bride…”

  “Not old enough,” Margaret said. “Except maybe in India or—”

  “No, of course not,” she said impatiently. “But it was the gown…” She was rifling through the pages. “I arranged the folds, and it turned out—” She found the page she was looking for and turned it around. “The girl at the end of the second row. You see how beautifully I draped that collar around her neck?”

  It was a photo of a girls’ choir. All the girls looked to be between the ages of ten and fifteen, a
nd all were dressed in flowing white robes.

  The girl at the end of the second row …

  Small, dark hair, high cheekbones, winged brows, delicate features.

  “Bingo,” Margaret said softly.

  Not Jenny, naturally. But so close …

  Eve couldn’t take her eyes from that picture. “What school?”

  “Ronald Reagan Middle School,” Josie said. Her finger was going down the name list. “Second row … Cara Delaney.”

  She was flipping through pages again. “That appears to be the only organization to which she belongs … No, here she is again in the band photo. Violin.”

  Choir. Violin.

  I got to keep the music.

  And Cara had also been permitted to keep her music.

  Eve closed the yearbook. “May I borrow this? I promise to return it.”

  Josie nodded. “See that you do.” She was smiling. “I really made that robe look good, didn’t I? You should see what I can do with an entire wedding party. Magnificent.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. Thank you.” She headed for the door. “Is that school near here?”

  “About twenty minutes north.” She was frowning down at her Persian gazing balefully up at her. “Do you know, I think he has lost weight.”

  * * *

  “You set the GPS while I call Joe,” Eve said when they reached the car. She wasn’t sure that what she had promised him would be enough, but she’d keep her word. “I think we’ve found her,” she said as soon as Joe answered. “Cara Delaney. She looks so much like Jenny that they have to be related. We’re going to the school now and try to find out more about her.”

  “We always thought that it might be a family resemblance we were looking at,” Joe said.

  “No might about it now,” Eve said. “She has hazel eyes, not green, but everything else is right on.”

  “Jenny’s sister?”

  “I don’t know. It would be my guess. But she would have had to be only about three when Jenny was killed. What were two children doing out there in those woods? And why was Jenny murdered, and Cara—” She stopped. “Too many questions and not enough answers. But Cara Delaney has to have parents or guardians. At least I’ll have someone to ask. I’ll call you again after I get to the school and find out more.” She paused. “How are you?”

  “Healing as fast as I can. And I haven’t jumped that guard Nalchek put outside my door. Though don’t count on my holding out past tomorrow.”

  “I had to do it, Joe.”

  “No, you didn’t. But you thought you did. What you really want to know is am I angry with you. Yes, I’m no saint, and I hate being thwarted.” He added, “Keep safe, and you may get your way … for a little while.” He was silent for a moment. “But those two girls pose interesting questions. Why? Where? What? I’m keeping myself occupied trying to work up some scenarios. I believe I’m getting there. Good-bye, Eve.” He hung up.

  He was angry, Eve thought. He had been absentminded, almost cool, and that was something Joe had seldom been with her.

  Too bad.

  She had done what she had thought necessary and would have done it again.

  “Trouble?” Margaret asked.

  “Some.” Eve started the car. “Nothing we can’t work out. At any rate, I can’t think of it now. Do me a favor and call Nalchek and have him pave the way with the school administration before we get there.” She looked down at the GPS. “We should get there before school is out. I’ll go to the administration office and see what information I can gather before I speak to Cara.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Margaret said. “Not a bad start for a day. I’m excited.” She smiled. “We thought that we were going to find out so much from the reconstruction article but it turned out differently. You can never tell, can you?”

  “No, you can’t,” Eve said. “But I’ll take it.”

  She could still see that little girl in the photo. Jenny, but alive and well and not threatened by monsters. No, not Jenny. She kept thinking of that little girl who had exploded into her mind and life, but this was another child.

  Cara, who was almost certainly Jenny’s kin.

  Cara, who loved music as much as Jenny.

  Cara, who was also threatened by monsters.

  CHAPTER

  13

  “Cara Delaney.” Mrs. Karpel looked down at the transcript on her desk. “Eleven years old. Her parents were killed in an automobile accident, and she’s in the custody of her aunt, Elena Delaney.”

  “How long has she attended this school?” Eve asked.

  “Two years. She transferred from Fresno Elementary.”

  “Any problems with attendance or grades?”

  “No, she’s a good student and always obeys the rules. In the entire two years she’s been with us, she’s had only one absence, and she brought a doctor’s excuse.”

  “We saw a photo of her in the choir. Did she belong to any other groups?”

  “Just the band. She’s an amazing violinist. Mr. Donavan, the band director, wanted to give her a solo in the spring festival, but her aunt refused to sign the permission slip.”

  “Have you had any contact with her aunt?”

  She shook her head. “But that’s not unusual. The school is overcrowded, and unless the student causes a disturbance, there isn’t a lot of reaching out from the teachers. There just isn’t time. Sad, but true.” She tilted her head. “What’s all this about? Is Cara in trouble?”

  “I hope not,” Eve said. “But I’d like to have her aunt’s address and phone number. And I’d like to talk to Cara before she leaves school today.”

  “Certainly. Elena Delaney works as a waitress at a local Waffle House, and I’ll give you her work number, too.” The administrator was already writing out the information. “I’ll have Cara paged to come to the office.” She tore off a Post-it with Cara’s name, got up, and moved toward the front desk.

  “No photos. No problems that would draw attention,” Margaret said.

  Eve nodded. “Cara faded into the background. And her aunt Elena appears to also be very elusive. I definitely have to speak to that aunt.”

  “I’m sorry.” The administrator was back. “Cara became ill in her English class this morning and ran out of the room.” She was frowning. “I spoke too soon about her obeying the rules. She should have reported to the nurse’s office, but evidently she called her aunt to pick her up instead.”

  Eve tensed. “Evidently?”

  “Her aunt didn’t answer her phone when Cara’s advisor tried to call her. But Cara’s friend, Heather Smallwood, saw her aunt waiting outside the school. She must have picked her up without checking her out.” Her lips tightened. “I’ll have to have a talk with Elena Delaney.”

  “And so will I.” Eve got to her feet. “Thank you for your help. If you hear from Cara or her aunt, I’d appreciate your contacting me.”

  “Of course. I’ll get in touch the first minute I know anything. This is very disturbing.”

  More disturbing than she knew, Eve thought grimly as they left the building.

  “We’re going to her apartment?” Margaret asked.

  “Right. I don’t like the fact that on the morning that photo was published, Cara got suddenly sick, and her aunt decided to whisk her out of school. I think that Elena Delaney knew that the little girl was targeted, and they were hiding out. That photo of the reconstruction was a red flag that made her panic.”

  “And you’re afraid she’ll take Cara on the run?”

  “It’s possible. I knew that there might be a response from publishing that photo. I hoped it would be positive.” She got into the driver’s seat. “But, yes, we’re definitely going to her apartment and see what we can find out.”

  They were only a few blocks from the apartment when Eve’s phone rang. Terry Brandell. She put the call on speaker. “Hello, Terry. Do you have something for me?”

  “Yes, I got a phone call regarding the reconstruction,” Terry
Brandell said when she picked up. “Nothing very promising. It was from a young girl who said she went to school with a girl who resembled that sculpture. She was all excited at the thought of being part of the case. She kept asking about a reward or her picture in the paper if she could get the family to acknowledge that the dead girl was a relation.”

  “And this schoolgirl’s name?”

  “Heather Smallwood. She lives in the same apartment building. I told you it wasn’t very promising. The only reason I told you was because you asked me to pay attention to any calls from Carmel.”

  “You’re wrong, it’s promising,” Eve said. “Thanks for calling, I’ll get back to you.” She hung up. “It seems that Heather Smallwood had reason to be on the lookout for Cara’s Aunt Elena. She was looking for a payoff.” She pulled to the curb in front of the apartment building. “And all signs are pointing to Cara Delaney. Let’s go find her.”

  * * *

  Elena’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as she gave another nervous glance at her rearview mirror.

  The tan Toyota was still following her.

  And he was no longer trying to hide the fact. When she had pulled away from the school without picking up Cara, any hint of subtlety had ended.

  There had been a change, a boldness, a determination in the way he had resumed tailing her. He was not about to let her get out of his sight.

  But she had to get out of his sight, she thought desperately. She had to get to Cara. She had promised she would take care of her. She couldn’t leave her alone and at the mercy of the people who had killed her sister.

  She might even have to go to the police.

  No! She knew better; she had been warned all her life that she mustn’t ever go to the police. Cara wasn’t the only one in danger. She loved her, but Elena’s own family could be slaughtered if she disobeyed the rules.

  So find a way to lose him.

  And if she couldn’t do that, lead him as far away from Cara as she could …

  * * *

  “Elena Delaney quit her job, picked up her paycheck and her niece, Cara, and hit the road,” Eve said in frustration when she called Joe two hours later. “And it can’t be a coincidence. Cara has to be Walsh’s target. We’re at their apartment now, and we’ve been looking around for anything that might give us a clue as to where she might be going. I talked to Cara’s friend, Heather, when she came home from school, and she said that Cara hadn’t mentioned going anywhere today. They might be friends, but not close enough for Cara to confide in her. She did say that Cara was very quiet when she got on the school bus this morning. But Cara didn’t ever talk much. It wasn’t until Heather was in her current-events class this morning that she saw the reconstruction on TV and got all excited.” She shook her head. “That’s why she was on the lookout for Cara. She wanted to talk to her about it. She’s very disappointed.”