Shattered Mirror

by Iris Johansen

  “But I didn’t kill you,” Jock said. “He might agree that you should grant me a pardon.” He leaned back in the chair. “And I’ll let him know most of the weaknesses in his compound defenses, and that should please him. You can tell him that I was just doing a test run.”

  “You locked him in the trunk of my limo in Moscow. He’s not likely to believe me.”

  “We were on opposite sides at the time.” He met his eyes. “I understand that’s changed.”

  Kaskov gave a low whistle. “You’re angry. That’s what this is about.” He studied him. “You don’t trust me. You don’t like the power I can wield. You’re afraid I’ll take a step too far and get Cara killed.”

  “All of the above,” Jock said. “Or get in my way and keep me from stopping that son of a bitch from killing her.”

  “Serious concerns.” He was silent. “I wish to get out of bed. I have a gun in the drawer of the nightstand and a knife in that drawer in the table you’re sitting beside. Those are my most obvious weapons. The others I will have more difficulty getting to. May I get a cup of coffee from my automatic coffeemaker across the room on that buffet?”

  “Of course. As you can see, I have no weapon.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel secure enough to attack? You are angry.” He was shrugging into his robe. “And you are the weapon, Gavin.” He strode across the carpeted floor to the buffet. “And you’d like nothing better than to remove my troubling presence from Cara’s life. But your unique skill isn’t enough in this case. As long as she feels a debt, she won’t permit you to do as you wish. And I shall continue to find ways to increase that feeling of gratitude. So it appears we may be stuck with each other for the foreseeable future.” He turned and smiled. “Coffee, Gavin?”

  “No, I believe that we’ll be disturbed in about three minutes, and I want to have my hands free.”

  “Because you were compassionate and didn’t kill that guard.”

  “Compassion had nothing to do with it. I want you to have a full complement of men when Norwalk goes after you. He’s the enemy … at the moment.”

  “Yes, at the moment.” He took a sip of his coffee. “How often during the last three times when Cara was visiting me have you been tempted to breach my walls to show me you could do it?”

  Jock didn’t answer.

  “But this was different,” Kaskov said softly. “You felt that it wouldn’t cause the ripple of disturbance and make Cara feel you were interfering. And it let me see that the threat was always there.” He tilted his head. “Now why else did you come tonight?”

  “To tell you that Norwalk probably had a twin, and it might have had something to do with the targets he chose. You and Eve specifically.” He got to his feet. “And to ask if you had any information you haven’t told Eve yet.”

  He shook his head. “Though I assure you I’m being very proactive. And I’m certain you have a few ideas on the matter you’d like to share?”

  “Norwalk has to have had something to do with you.”

  “I never dealt with him. He never crossed my path.”

  “Yet he attacked Cara. That was quite pointed.” He smiled faintly. “Maybe, like me, he wanted to show you that you’re vulnerable. But he went to a great deal of trouble. He wanted you to know he could take her, kill her, and you could do nothing about it.” His smile vanished. “And he was right, he came damn close. Next time, he’ll try to go all the way. But why go to all that trouble just to make a point?” His gaze was narrowed on Kaskov’s face. “Why, Kaskov?”

  Kaskov’s face was without expression. He repeated, “I had nothing to do with him.”

  “But you might have a hunch?” he murmured. “Something I said triggered something. I believe I might want to stick around while you think about it.”

  “Not a good idea,” Kaskov said. “I prefer that your expertise be leveled at protecting my granddaughter. I might let you know once I’ve firmed up—”

  “They’re at the end of the hall,” Jock interrupted, his head tilted as he listened. “At least three men trying to be quiet. Probably your Nikolai is with them. What are you going to do?”

  “I should ask what you’re going to do.”

  “If attacked, I leave the house and the compound. I always have an exit plan. But first, I’d kill Nikolai, then you. My problems would be solved.”

  He chuckled. “And very efficiently.” He finished his coffee. “But I prefer a more peaceful solution today. I shall invite you to breakfast, and you’ll discuss the fallacies in my security arrangements with Nikolai. However, I agree that you should let him believe that it was totally my idea.” He was heading for the door and glanced back over his shoulder. “By the way, you should never have been able to breach those defenses without extensive research and time. How did you do it?”

  He shrugged. “You invited Cara to New Orleans three months ago. When I was in Moscow on my ‘hunting’ trip, I delved into your possible rentals in New Orleans. There were only two that would have been suitable for your needs. I researched the history of the houses and the architectural plans and studied both of them.”

  “Just in case you needed them? You were trained well.”

  Jock’s lips twisted. “Oh, yes, exceptionally well.” He moved across the room. “You’ll notice I’m directly behind you. If you change your mind when you open that door, I can break your neck before you take another breath.”

  “Not before breakfast.” Kaskov smiled as he threw open the door. “I’m always hungry when I’m forced to wake this early.”

  CHAPTER

  9

  “Can’t sleep?” Eve was standing in the hall gazing at Darcy, who was sitting at Eve’s worktable staring at Sylvie’s reconstruction. “Neither could I.” She tightened the belt of her robe as she came toward Darcy. “I kept thinking about Norwalk and … You know what I was thinking about.” She reached out and touched the cheek of the sculpture with her index finger. “All the time I was working on her I felt as if every stroke I took was taking away the horror he was trying to make of her.”

  “And you did it,” Darcy said. “She’s beautiful now.” She leaned back on the stool. “And I was thinking about how Norwalk told you how alone he felt…”

  “Because you thought he also had a twin.”

  “Yes, and how I’ve been feeling that way, too, for the past few months.” Darcy’s gaze never left Sylvie. “He probably wanted me to feel that way, and I don’t know why. If he does have a twin, he knows about the emptiness. He said Sylvie and I weren’t important, so does he want the whole world to feel that emptiness?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Then I think that he’s going to be disappointed.” She touched the delicate curl of Sylvie’s lower lip. “At least as far as I’m concerned. I’ve noticed for the last couple days that I’m not feeling…” She stopped and moistened her lips. “I don’t feel that emptiness any longer, Eve. I know you probably don’t realize what that means … I’m not sure I do, either. But it’s gone…”

  “I don’t know what you mean. How could I?” She touched her shoulder gently. “I hope it’s because you know that we all care about you. And that we won’t let you be alone.”

  She nodded jerkily. “Yes, I know that, and I’ve never felt more … it’s very strange and wonderful for me. But that’s not what this is about.” She looked down at the bright blue eyes of the sculpture. “I feel as if she’s coming … closer to me. It’s as if she’s just out of reach but coming closer all the time. Crazy, huh? Sylvie’s dead. You showed me what he did to her. But it doesn’t seem to matter. I can feel her.”

  “Not so crazy. Unless you don’t want it to happen.” She was silent a moment. “Did Cara tell you about my daughter, Bonnie, who died when she was only seven?”

  “Yes,” she said unevenly. “Not very much, but I wanted to know all about her family, and I kept at her. I can be pretty determined.”

  “I’ve noticed. And strong, very strong,
Darcy.” She paused. “I wasn’t that strong when I lost Bonnie. She was my whole world, and all I wanted to do was go to her. I was heading down in that direction when she decided to come to me instead.”

  Darcy’s gaze flew to her face. “Come to you?”

  Eve nodded. “Call it hallucination. Call her a ghost. She started to come to me in dreams; and then the dreams were no longer necessary. I saw her. She visited me, and it was all love.” She added simply, “She saved my life. It’s not what I wanted at the time. I would rather have been with her all the time. But we worked through it together. And then I found Joe and my work, and now I have Michael. Bonnie was right, and I was wrong.”

  “You believe she actually came to you?”

  “I know she did. But no one else has to believe it.” She smiled. “They can think I’m crazy. Bonnie and I know better.”

  “You’re not crazy.”

  “Then why doubt yourself? You and Sylvie started off with much more than is usually given to any of us. Don’t you believe that she’d be allowed to still be part of the person she loves the most?”

  “Allowed?”

  Eve shrugged. “I don’t know how it works. I only know from my own experience that sometimes there’s special dispensation. Or maybe it happens to most people, and they don’t realize what’s happening. I think the best thing to do is just grab it, then give back as much as you can.” She smiled. “And that’s my last bit of advice. I just thought I’d try to save you the months of self-doubts I went through when I started to dream of Bonnie.” She gazed at her inquiringly. “Do you dream of Sylvie?”

  “No, not yet. I just feel her.”

  “Is it a bad feeling?”

  “No.” She thought about it. “It’s kind of … glowing. But different than when … stronger.” She was silent, trying to find a way to make her understand. “I remember when we were both very little, Sylvie loved butterflies. She used to wake me up very early, and take my hand, and we’d run out in the garden when there was dew still on the flowers. She would sit there and watch as the butterflies touched the blossoms. She thought they were sort of like us. She said I was like the very brightest, scarlet butterflies, and she was like the gold-orange and brown Monarchs. She loved them all, but she wondered if we’d ever change, if we could be different. She said brown and orange was pretty, but it would be nice to be a scarlet butterfly, and shine like me sometimes.” She reached out and gently touched Sylvie’s cheek. “It’s sort of like that. Stronger … and brighter … and scarlet.”

  “And it makes you happy?”

  She smiled. “It makes me happy.”

  “You’re sitting in front of my sculpture. Do you feel closer to her here?”

  “No.” She frowned. “I don’t think it has anything to do with it. I felt closer to her on the porch, and I just wanted to see if—” She said, “You’re asking me questions you think I should be asking myself, aren’t you?”

  “Just getting you started.” She bent and brushed a kiss on the top of Darcy’s head. “Try to go to bed and get some sleep if you can. That’s what I intend to do. But it’s difficult when we keep thinking of how we’re going to get rid of that monster. Everything about that conversation keeps going around and around in my mind.”

  Darcy nodded. “Me, too. I was so full of the ugliness that I had to come in and see that she wasn’t really like that. She was still Sylvie.”

  “And maybe Sylvie wandered through your mind and helped a little?”

  “Maybe.” She looked up at her. “And maybe my friend, Eve, wandered in and helped quite a lot. I know that telling me about your Bonnie wasn’t easy for you. Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t that hard. You needed her. And as I said, what’s given, you try to give back.” She was heading across the living room toward the hall. “Good night, Darcy.”

  “Eve.”

  She looked over her shoulder and saw Darcy sitting there in the strong beam of her work light in front of Sylvie. Both beautiful, both glowing with vitality, the same, and yet not the same. Darcy’s face was changing, gaining in maturity, and Sylvie’s face that should have seemed frozen in time, appeared to be subtly changing, too. A trick of the light? Blooming …

  Blooming. Where had that word come from?

  “I wanted to ask you a question,” Darcy said. “If you don’t want to answer, I’ll understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Do you ever see your Bonnie these days? You have so much. Is she still with you?”

  “She’s still with me. She doesn’t come as often. Hey, maybe they keep her busy. Since Michael was born, perhaps she thinks I don’t need her as much.” She smiled. “Though I’ve tried to tell her that’s not true. I’ll always need her just as you’ll need Sylvie. But Bonnie’s always there when it’s important for me. Even though I may not know it’s important. She never really leaves me.” She tilted her head. “Anything else?”

  “Nah, though I’ll probably think of something else later.” She grinned. “Cara probably told you I was incurably curious.”

  “She did mention something of that nature.” She took one last look at that pool of golden light surrounding those two radiant faces. “But we can all learn to live with that. There’s always the word no.”

  “Which you didn’t use tonight,” she said softly.

  “I didn’t, did I?” She turned and started down the hall toward her bedroom. “See you at breakfast, Darcy.”

  Had she helped? She thought she had, but who could know at moments like this? In the end, everyone had to face their own angels or demons. And perhaps there were both on the horizon for Darcy.

  “Everything okay?” Joe asked when she came into the room.

  “As okay as they can be.” She took off her robe and tossed it on the chair. “Darcy is having a few problems.” She crawled into bed and into his arms. “Or maybe not. Maybe she’s having problems solved. I’d like to think it’s the latter.”

  “And that means?”

  “Sylvie.” She cuddled closer. “I told Darcy about Bonnie. I thought it might help.”

  “That’s unusual. You seldom talk about Bonnie.”

  “I thought it would help both of us.” She put her cheek on her favorite spot on the hollow of his shoulder. “I miss Bonnie. I don’t see enough of her.”

  He didn’t answer. His hand just stroked her hair.

  “I told Darcy Bonnie would always be here for me. But I get scared that she might think Michael is enough and go away entirely.”

  “Not likely.”

  She was silent a moment. “He’s so special. Do you know sometimes I think that Bonnie had something to do with how—”

  “I know you do,” Joe said. “But stop thinking and wondering and just enjoy him. Michael is what he is.” He kissed her. “And you are what you are. You gave a little too much to Darcy tonight, and it’s having an aftereffect.”

  He was right. It had been a disturbing and horrifying day and, as she’d told Darcy, her mind was still working at top speed. It appeared that her emotions were also in a similar state. “Yes, I am what I am.” She relaxed against him. “And it’s good that you’re around to remind me that doesn’t always involve clear thinking.”

  “You do exceptionally well in that department. Though I believe that bringing in Kaskov might have been an exception to prove the rule.”

  “I think he might help. We need help. Norwalk was spitting out information right and left, but we couldn’t quite grasp it. Except Darcy, she just applied her own experience and came up with a possibility. If I could just try to do the same thing…” She was thinking, going over Norwalk’s words. “I told you I thought he hated me, and it wasn’t because we’d taken in Cara. It was something I’d done to him. Or not done. He said something about not reaching out…”

  “What?”

  “Remember, he said I had a choice to reach out or not. And I’d chosen not to reach out. It was when I was telling him that he was all wrong about what my job is. Tha
t all I wanted was to ID and bring the victims home.” She was thinking back, trying to remember nuances. “It made him angry. He said what I wanted and what was needed were entirely different.” She was attempting to get facts in a row. “It had to be all about my job. I didn’t reach out when I should have reached out. That might mean I refused to do something he wanted me to do.”

  “And that it probably wasn’t in your job description.”

  She nodded. “But I do get lots of requests that don’t always pertain to establishing ID. Mostly from funeral homes or those who are paid to reconstruct the deceased.”

  “I don’t recall your accepting them.”

  “No, I refer them. I regard bringing a victim home as far more important. That’s principally cosmetic work.”

  “And have you referred any recently?”

  “I don’t remember. There are so many, Joe. Have you seen my backlog file?”

  “No, but I’m beginning to think I should.”

  She sat upright in bed. “I’m thinking that, too.” She swung her legs to the floor. “Come on. Let’s go take a look.”

  “May I suggest morning?”

  “No, neither of us would probably sleep anyway.” She slipped on her robe again and headed for the door. “We need to find out why Norwalk hates me so much…”

  * * *

  After more than three hours of going through backlog requests and isolating the ones from private individuals and funeral homes, they had two that they considered possibilities.

  Joe tossed the first one aside. “Only one request to you. No drive. No obsession.” He held up the second file. “Six requests. The money escalating with every offer. The first two offers were made by George Phillips Funeral Home in Syracuse, New York, a request to do facial reconstruction on one of their clients who’d suffered a mishap at a construction site. An explosion had made it very necessary before they could possibly have an open casket. However, they refused to send you photos.”

  “Because explosions make reconstruction virtually impossible,” she said grimly. “Bone, muscle, and flesh go everywhere. It was doubtful that even an experienced forensic crew would have been able to retrieve the necessary pieces. As you see, I did refer them to the best person in upstate New York to make a try at it. But it would have taken entirely too much of my time. But I remember that they kept sending me requests. After the fourth one, I didn’t open the envelopes any longer.”