Shattered Mirror

by Iris Johansen

  Eve chuckled. “Well, evidently you didn’t completely monopolize the conversation, Darcy.” Eve turned to Michael. “Go take your shower and wake up Cara, Michael. She told me she wanted to go with you. She said she might need to pick up a few moves herself.”

  “Yes.” Michael laughed and jumped to his feet. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see her much today.” He ran down the hall toward the bathroom. “I can show her some moves. Dad says I’m getting really good.”

  Eve turned back to Darcy when he’d disappeared. “I didn’t mean to take Cara away from you today,” she said quietly. “I know it must seem as if you’ve been thrown into a den of strangers at a terrible time in your life. But Cara said you had questions, and it seemed a good time.”

  “Not strangers.” Her gaze shifted to the reconstruction again. “Even your son has made me feel very much at home.” She looked back at Eve with a smile. “I may be disappointed when I wake up, and he’s not sitting in that rocking chair looking at me with those big brown eyes.”

  Eve sighed. “He didn’t? Oh well, it’s good you get accustomed to him right away. He’s a bit of an acquired taste.”

  “You don’t believe that.” Darcy grinned. “You know what you’ve got, Eve. He’s a wonder.”

  Eve nodded. “I know what I’ve got.” She grinned. “Maybe I just don’t want everyone else to be green with envy.” Her smile faded. “And I’m glad he had this time with you. Michael has a rather unique perspective on my work, as you’ve probably noticed. I assure you, it’s his perspective, not mine.” She paused. “But it’s quite wonderful and worth considering.” She turned away. “Now why don’t you go take your shower and dress while I fix an omelet for you.” She made a face. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can do a decent omelet. Then we’ll get down to Sylvie.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Yes, I do,” she interrupted. “You’re going to need more than a bowl of flakes to get through the things I’m going to tell you.” She added grimly, “And before I came out here this morning, Joe was taking a call from Jock Gavin, and that was pretty nasty, too.”

  Darcy made a face. “Cara said that she didn’t want you to know about that just yet.”

  “I can believe it. Cara has always wanted to protect me. Well, Jock evidently did want us to know ASAP.” Eve headed for the kitchen. “So it’s all cards on the table, so we can figure out this nightmare.”

  DELTA FLIGHT 2482 OVER MARSEILLES, FRANCE 4:50 P.M.

  “The fingerprint belongs to Rory Norwalk, born and raised in Belfast, Ireland,” Joe said when Jock picked up his call. “Dalroth, with Interpol, says that he’s a very nasty customer who has a record several pages long that includes everything from theft and human trafficking to drug smuggling. I’m texting you a photo right now. Ten years ago, he set up his own organization and runs a team out of Dublin. He’s good at what he does.” He paused. “First, you should know that according to reports, he’s a psycho. He grew up working with the IRA, and the stories about the torture he inflicted while he was with them were pretty bloody. He enjoys it. He’s been picked up for at least three cases of murder since he set up his organization. Never proven.”

  “Shit.” Jock’s hand tightened on his cell phone. “What connection does he have with Kaskov or any of the Moscow Mafia families?”

  “None that Dalroth can trace. He doesn’t work with any of the crime families. He tends to hire himself out to the highest bidder, but he sticks to his own turf. He’s always confined his operations to London or Dublin.”

  “Then how the hell did he end up in Cara’s suite in New York?” He accessed the photo of a tall, powerfully built man, wearing an olive-green windbreaker. Rory Norwalk was fortysomething, with dark eyes, a shock of thick brown hair, a square face, and thick lips. Nothing unusual. Someone you’d pass on the street and barely notice. But now Jock would notice, he’d never forget. “What’s he doing in the U.S.? There has to be a connection.”

  “Cool down,” Joe said quietly. “You said that Cara thinks he could be targeting Darcy Nichols. That’s why you’re on that plane.”

  “I’m here because I have to explore every possibility. I don’t like the idea that Eve received that gift package of the skull of Darcy Nichols’s sister. The connection is too damn clear.”

  “Do you think I do?” Joe asked harshly. “I’d be on a plane myself if I could justify leaving my family with that nut job running around. Norwalk got close enough once to leave that skull. He’s not going to get that close again.”

  Thank God. And Jock was passionately grateful that Joe was there to form that protective barrier. He’d been on edge ever since he’d taken Cara’s call last night. “I’ll check it out. What did you find out about Felicity Jordan?”

  “I texted you her current address in Nice. It’s a villa on the Mediterranean. Evidently she lives very lavishly on Darcy’s residuals. I’ve been trying to contact her or her current husband, Raoul Napier, all day, but it goes straight to voice mail. I got Dalroth to do a little checking of illegal activity with the local authorities, but they appear to be clean. If you can call her mother’s appropriation of Darcy’s funds clean. Raoul Napier likes to gamble and has been picked up on possession, but no serious criminal record.”

  “What about Sylvie’s sanitarium?”

  “That took longer. It has stringent privacy rules. That’s one of the prime attractions to the wealthy parents who put their children in the place. Eventually, I was able to bypass the clerks and get through to someone in authority. I found out that Sylvie Jordan had been removed from the sanitarium by her mother and stepfather almost two months ago.”

  “So Felicity was lying to Darcy,” Jock said grimly.

  “It would appear so. And probably backed up by a fat bribe to the desk receptionist at the sanitarium who answers their phones. You’ll have to determine that for yourself. If you can find Raoul Napier and his wife, Felicity.”

  “Oh, I’ll find them,” Jock said. “I have contacts I can tap for information in most places in the world. It’s what I was trained to do. Find and eliminate. I’ve already called Charles Benoit, who is very, very good at digging and providing that information. He’ll be meeting me at the airport in Nice.”

  Joe was silent. “I hope the eliminating won’t be necessary in this case.”

  Jock was surprised at that far-from-subtle warning. Joe Quinn was an ex-SEAL, and his instincts were often as violent and lethally efficient as Jock’s. “I’ll have to see, won’t I? Do you think you could stop me?”

  “I’d try like hell if you went off the track. Cara wouldn’t let me do anything else. Which would put me up against you, and that would be the last thing you’d want to happen. Either way, you’d lose. So be damn sure, Jock.”

  He was right, there was no way he could ever challenge anyone Cara loved as she did Joe Quinn. “I’ll be sure. Just take care of her. I’ll get back to you.” He cut the connection.

  CHAPTER

  6

  “I love this place,” Darcy said as she looked down from the porch at the barbecue area directly below them where Eve, Joe, and Michael were gathered together in front of the grill. The laser lights were lit on the trees surrounding the entire area, and it appeared as if thousands of emerald fireflies were glittering off and on every branch. “And those lights are amazing. Not what I’d expect from such a bucolic setting.”

  “Eve’s adopted daughter, Jane MacGuire, sent them to Michael last year,” Cara said. “She’s an artist, and she has a wonderful eye. She did that painting of Eve on the wall in the living room. She knew Michael would love those lights. She came and installed them herself to get just the right effect.” She handed Darcy a glass of lemonade. “And I think Michael was happier to have her here to do it than to have the lights themselves.”

  “I can see that,” Darcy said. “He’s incredibly affectionate, isn’t he?”

  “He’s incredible in all kinds of ways.” She sipped her lemonade. “But t
he affection isn’t that unusual when he has parents like Eve and Joe. It’s all love and family here. Anything else would be truly incredible.”

  “I guess you’re right.” She looked down at Michael, standing next to Eve. “It just seems unusual to me. It’s like the last scene on a family sitcom when they’re wrapping up everything all touchy-feely so they’ll get renewed for the next season.”

  Cara gazed at her openmouthed. Then she started to laugh. “Only you would make that comparison. Yes, I definitely think Eve and family will get renewed for next season.”

  “So do I,” Darcy said. “They’re wonderful. Do you know how lucky you are they took you in?”

  “No question.” She glanced sideways at Darcy before she asked. “You’ve been very quiet since we got home from Michael’s karate lesson. How did it go with you and Eve?”

  “How do you think it went? Eve told me I’d have to brace myself, and she was right. She didn’t want to show me the photos of that skull before she started work on it, but I made her do it. I had to know everything I could about what happened to Sylvie.” She shivered as she looked away from Cara. “I nearly threw up again. I’m not what you could ever call tough. The only thing that saved me was that I got so angry that it seemed to burn everything away, but what I wanted to do to the person who had done that to her.”

  “Eve said that the cremation had been done after Sylvie was shot,” Cara said gently. “And the bullet killed her instantly.”

  “I know,” she said jerkily. “She told me all that. But at that point it didn’t help. I couldn’t understand how anyone could—” She drew a deep breath. “She said she thought it was done to either make it difficult for her to reconstruct, or to inject an element of horror and shock to that skull.” She moistened her lips. “I felt that horror and shock. Anyone who had known Sylvie would have. She was so gentle, like a leaf drifting among us, and he tried to make her into a monster.”

  “But Eve didn’t let him,” Cara said. “She brought her back. She brought her home to you.”

  “And I’ll always be grateful to her.” She looked down at Eve. “She’s just as wonderful as you always told me. She was supposed to turn Sylvie back over to Forensics today, but I asked her if we could keep her here for a couple more days. She got Joe to pull strings.”

  “It was important to you?”

  “It seemed that way. I just wanted to be able to look at Sylvie every now and then and try to understand and get my head together. I’m so filled with anger and sadness, and yet I look at that reconstruction that Eve did of Sylvie, and I think I see something I’ve never seen before.” She shook her head. “Or maybe I saw it, and I didn’t notice. Eve made her look stronger, brimming, shining, with life.”

  “Eve never makes her reconstructions look anything,” Cara said. “She just sculpts what’s there.”

  “Michael said she fixes them.”

  “But never changes them.” She took a step closer and slid her arm around Darcy’s waist. “I’ve always thought some people have a shining inside. Maybe Sylvie was one of those people, and it’s only now that we’re allowed to see it.”

  “Maybe.” She smiled with an effort. “As I said, I’m only trying to understand what’s happening to me. I’m not up to going very deep into philosophy or theology right now. Not that I ever am. I really like accepting the role of the dumb blonde on occasion. It’s much more comfortable for me.”

  “And totally deceptive.” But Darcy had gone through enough trauma and soul-searching for one day, Cara thought. She was still in the healing process, and Cara could see her changing with every passing hour. “But by all means, let’s go down and join the family and see if you can fool them.” She nudged her toward the porch steps. “Though you’ll have to be very sharp to get that past Michael…”

  A few minutes later, Cara was sitting on the bench by the barbecue pit and watching as Darcy was being drawn into the magic circle of laughter and warmth that Michael, Eve, and Joe were generating. She could see any hint of artifice and stiffness melting away from her as she threw back her head and laughed at something Joe had said. This was what she had wanted for Darcy. Cara had been given this gift all those years ago, and she knew the value. She had come to Eve almost as broken and hurting as Darcy and she had—

  Her cell rang, and she pulled it out of her jacket pocket.

  Jock? He’d promised he’d call her when he—

  Not Jock.

  She stiffened as she read the ID.

  Sergai Kaskov.

  She hesitated, then pressed the access. “Hello, Kaskov. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. I’m not supposed to be in New Orleans for another week.”

  “And you’re clearly so shocked that you forgot to call me grandfather again,” he said dryly. “Though it’s not surprising since I only see you for one month a year. It does tend to distance us, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry. I did forget. But that one month is more than we were ever together from the time I was three. My mother didn’t even see fit to bring me to see you until I was eleven.” She paused. “So the distance was already there and established.”

  Silence. “I can always count on you to be entirely frank with me. Perhaps that’s why I look forward to these visits so much. No one else is that brave.”

  “Because you’d shoot them?”

  He chuckled. “I haven’t shot anyone in a long time.”

  But he didn’t mention if he’d given that order to one of his men. She wasn’t going to ask him. Their periods together were too difficult without further conflict. “Why are you calling me?”

  “I just wanted to tell you that I had your last concert in Connecticut recorded, and it was exquisite. You’re getting better all the time. I thought you were superb when I first heard you when you were only eleven, but now you’re reaching your full potential. I wanted to let you know I’m pleased.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His voice was mocking. “I know how little that means to you. But it does mean something to me, so I thought it would be amusing to express it. And, as it happens, I had a few other items on my agenda to discuss, so I decided I’d indulge myself.”

  “What other items?”

  “First, I wished to tell you that I’m already in New Orleans. I got here a few days ago, and I’ve leased a lovely antebellum house north of the city. Very southern and old-world and very reminiscent of that film Interview with the Vampire. That concept always amused me. All that power and total ruthlessness.”

  “And dripping blood and no one really happy.”

  “One has to accept that vampires are seldom particularly happy. It’s never written into the script. Hollywood prefers drama, not happy endings.”

  “And I prefer a happy solution whenever possible.”

  “I’ve noticed.” He chuckled. “But that can be at great cost to you. Anyway, I believe you’ll enjoy this house. It has a certain atmosphere that you’ll appreciate. It may stir the creative muse. In fact, I’m thinking you should come a little early.”

  She stiffened. “What? Why?”

  “Why not? I’m ready for your visit, and you’re no longer at school.”

  “I’ve made plans to be with you for next week.”

  “But you may change your mind before that time,” he said softly. “And that would make me unhappy. It’s a volatile, ever-shifting world we live in. I think you should come now.”

  “Do you?” But Kaskov had never been this insistent in any of his contacts with her. He was always smooth, reasonable, almost conciliatory. This sounded almost like a threat. Yet she had an idea that wasn’t the case. “Are you going to tell me the real reason?”

  He was silent. “It appears that I am. Regrettable. I know you like the idea of my being apart from the life you lead when you’re not with me, and I’ve tried to foster that impression. But it’s really not advisable in this situation.”

  “What situation?”

  “The situatio
n in which they had to call an ambulance to your suite two nights ago when you were attacked.”

  Shock. She drew a deep breath. “And how do you know about that?”

  “The same way that I was able to obtain that CD of your concert. I have people in place to make sure that I’m not left in the dark regarding what’s happening to you. You’re my granddaughter, and I would not leave anything that belonged to me unattended.”

  People in place? For heaven’s sake, first she had found out about Jock’s agent, Stanton, and now Kaskov was coming up with his own men shadowing her? It was verging on the ridiculous.

  Except no one had been able to stop that savage attack in the dark at the residence.

  “You’re not speaking,” Kaskov said. “I take it you’re displeased?”

  “I’m thinking that it’s a wonder I didn’t stumble over all those ‘helpful’ people who were trying to keep an eye on me,” she said dryly. “And, yes, I’m displeased. I don’t like that you consider me your property.”

  “Unfortunate. You’re my only living family member; therefore, it’s natural that I should feel a bit proprietorial. That’s why I decided that you should be removed from a potentially hazardous environment and come to where I can control what happens to you.”

  “And do you know why it’s hazardous? Does it have anything to do with you or your enemies?”

  “Was that Jock Gavin’s guess? Actually, it’s the answer I’d have chosen, too. He’s very clever, isn’t he? And so very competent. I remember I tried to recruit him at one time.”

  “You’re not answering me.”

  “No, I had nothing to do with it. At least to my knowledge. I admit there are sometimes blast effects that spread havoc from my actions, but I’ve been careful.” He added, “My enemies? They’re legion. I’m investigating the possibilities now. But there’s been no stirring that I’ve been able to detect. However, sometimes it takes time to see what’s below the surface. That’s why you should come and visit with me while I explore more thoroughly.”

  “You may not even be responsible. There’s another possibility.”