Eight Days to Live

by Iris Johansen

  “I don’t think anyone would say that billions of dollars is nothing.”

  “A chance for billions. But you have to give me that chance. I need my time with Jane MacGuire. You can have her later. I’ve circulated that photo of Guilt among the members, and they’re salivating. They’ll forgive you anything if you can produce her at the Offering.” He paused. “I might even be persuaded to give you a share if you find her quickly enough.”

  Millet was silent. “I don’t even know if you can find the damn place. I can’t be sure. You may be all talk.”

  “You know that rumors have been circulating since the time of Hadar. It’s there. It happened. Jane MacGuire knows it did. Give me my time with her, and I’ll find it.” Time to use the whip. “Now are you going to cooperate, or should I be prepared to ask to see the sacred tablet on the night of the Offering?”

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “Will you cooperate?”

  Millet didn’t speak for another moment, and Roland could almost feel his scalding anger. “Someday I’m going to cut your throat, Roland.”

  “No chance. I always watch my back. Yes or no?”

  “I’ll go along with you as long as it suits me,” he finally said grudgingly.

  “It will suit you.” Time to shift away from intimidation. “Our partnership is very important to me, Millet. After all, you’re the Guardian of the Offering. I have the utmost respect for you.” Now throw the bastard a bone that would please his bloodthirsty soul. “I can understand how your Sang Noir feels cheated that they can’t have Jane MacGuire yet. But they may feel better if they take an important substitute. I’ve learned that Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn have left Georgia and have taken a flight to Edinburgh, Scotland. That probably means that they’ll be going to MacDuff’s Run. I’m sure the MacGuire woman would be heartbroken if anything happened to them.” He chuckled as a thought occurred to him. “And Eve Duncan works on skulls; I don’t doubt that you could concoct something appropriately shocking that has to do with her career. How long does it take to boil the flesh off a skull? Or, if you choose, you might even be able to use them as hostages.”

  Millet was silent, thinking. “They were on our list to be next anyway. Yvette Denarve was only convenient.”

  “Then you can occupy yourself with them while I try to find out where Jock Gavin took Jane MacGuire.”

  “Yes.” His voice became harsh. “But that doesn’t let you off the hook. You’re trying to distract me. I want to know where MacGuire is, then I’ll decide whether I’m going to wait any longer.”

  “You’ll wait. Think how they’ll scream and praise you. She’s going to be an offering beyond belief.” Roland’s hand tightened on the phone. “You wouldn’t be forgiven if you waste her death, Millet. You’ll know where she is as soon as I do.”

  “See that I do.” Millet hung up.

  Dammit, the situation was escalating, Roland thought as he hung up. Jane MacGuire’s escape tonight had caused Millet to come dangerously close to throwing out the entire case Roland had built for waiting for the execution until April 1.

  Screw him. He had to have his time with the MacGuire woman. Nothing was going to stand in his way.

  “He’s becoming difficult.” Sheila Carmody smiled. “He’d be even more difficult if he knew how you’ve been screwing him. I’ve never seen anyone so clever at a double cross.”

  He turned to look at her. Sheila was blond, naked, and with all the appropriate talents. None of them had anything to do with conversation. Usually she was more discreet in her comments. Not that he had any worry about her talking to anyone else. She was a member and knew what the punishment would be if she broke his confidence. That was why he made sure most of his bed partners were of the chosen. “I haven’t been screwing him.” Roland moved over her on the bed. “Yet. I’ve just been finessing the bastard. I’ve only been screwing you. Now close your mouth and open your legs. I’m about to do it again.”

  Moments later, he was listening to her cries as he plunged deep and hard. This was power. Take and twist and make her come. Much better than Millet’s idea of sexual pleasure. You didn’t have to rip and tear to make a woman know she was helpless, and that you were the master.

  But if Sheila showed other signs of curiosity, he might have to turn her over to Millet for schooling. He’d recently been stung by that bitch, Adah, who hadn’t known her place. He wasn’t about to have it happen again. But not now. Sheila was entertaining enough, and he was preoccupied with the problem of Jane MacGuire.

  And he’d have to find Jane MacGuire if he was going to have a trade for the tablet. He had to hedge all his bets. Either MacGuire or the tablet had the potential to give him what he wanted.

  He had to have both. He had to have it all.

  He would find MacGuire first, get what he needed from her, then give her to Millet to play with before his frustration built too high. He’d researched her thoroughly and had an idea which way she’d jump.

  A few more minutes with Shelia, and he’d get off her and reach for his phone . . .

  Rome

  Day Three

  11:32 A.M .

  MARIO SEVELLI WAS A GOOD enough prospect, Seth Caleb thought as he studied the squat dark man sitting at the outdoor café on the Via Rimaldi. He had not paid much attention to Sevelli when he’d been targeting another member of the Sang Noir several years ago. It had not been necessary to involve anyone else in the search. He had known who he needed to find and kill.

  But he probably wouldn’t have to kill Sevelli. It should be a simple Q and A that might lead somewhere promising. After researching Ted Weismann, he doubted if he would have confided in anyone in the group. But he might have dropped a word, a hint, that Sevelli might or might not remember. If he came up zero, then he’d just move on to someone else. There were at least three other members of the Sang Noir who could be possibilities.

  But Sevelli was alone at the table and Caleb wouldn’t have any interruptions.

  He moved across the street and through the crowded, noisy restaurant to Sevelli’s table.

  “A beautiful day, isn’t it? May I sit down?” He smiled at Sevelli. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  Sevelli stiffened as he glanced up at him.

  Caleb kept his smile in place and made his tone ingratiating. “I’d consider it a great favor.”

  The tension left Sevelli and he looked Caleb up and down. “I’m not having any. Buzz off, fag.”

  “I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding me.” Caleb pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. He gestured for the waiter, then gazed earnestly into Sevelli’s eyes. “But I’ll take care of that. We’re going to be the best of friends.”

  Paris

  Bleinart Inn

  “JOE SAID YOU’D BE HERE at MacDuff’s Run,” Eve said when Jane answered her call. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m still in France.” She had been bracing herself for this call. “Did MacDuff explain?”

  “He explained as much as he could explain. He told me about Yvette Denarve and that you’d ditched him at the airport.” She paused. “He said that you were looking for this Ted Weismann and were trying to locate someone who could find him.”

  “Weismann has all the answers. I have to find him, Eve.”

  “I can see that you would. MacDuff said that you didn’t tell him who you were going to get to help you.”

  “He wouldn’t approve my choice.” She added, “And I don’t have to tell you who it is, Eve.”

  “Seth Caleb. He was the first one I thought about when MacDuff was telling us that Weismann would be difficult to hunt down.”

  “Not for Caleb.”

  “You’ve contacted him?”

  “Yes. He said he’d help me.”

  “Out of the goodness of his heart?”

  “I don’t know how much goodness there is in his heart. I just know that he agreed, and I’m going to accept it.”

  “You must feel desperate. If I re
member, I was more inclined to be lenient with Caleb than you were.”

  “You didn’t see Celine. You didn’t see Yvette. Yes, I was feeling desperate. I can’t have anyone else killed because I’m stumbling around in the dark. I have to know what’s going on.” She drew a deep breath. “I didn’t trick you into coming to the Run because I was afraid for you. I am afraid for you and Joe. I’m terrified. But I intended to join you there.”

  “But then you thought about Seth Caleb and knew that he was your best shot.” She paused. “I know you’d never try to deceive me, Jane.”

  “I just had to be sure. I’ll come to the Run as soon as I find Weismann. Will you stay there with MacDuff? It will make me feel better. If you were with me here, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything but keeping you safe.”

  Eve didn’t speak for an instant. “I’ll stay here until I think that I can help you more by going after you. Where are you? Or is that a secret from me as well as MacDuff?” Then she added quickly, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t know how secure MacDuff’s communication setup is here.”

  “I imagine Jock will tell MacDuff anyway. But I don’t know how long I’ll be here. As soon as Caleb finds Weismann, I’ll have to go.”

  “Let me know when you do.”

  “I will.” She changed the subject. “Are you working?”

  “Of course. When don’t I? It keeps me functioning. I brought the skull of a little boy with me. I call him Ronald. MacDuff is going to set me up a grand workroom next to my bedroom in one of the towers. I’m sure it will feel very plush after my humble work area at the cottage.”

  “There’s nothing humble about anything you do,” Jane said. Eve was reputed to be the world’s greatest forensic sculptor. She tried to stay out of the public eye except when it was to help public awareness of the need to find and identify missing children. Since years ago she had lost her little daughter, Bonnie, to a serial killer, it had been her passion. No, that wasn’t quite true. She was dedicated to helping those children and their grieving parents. But her passion was the desire to find her Bonnie’s killer and bring the body of her daughter home. Everything else paled in comparison. “But I’m glad MacDuff is taking care of you there at the Run. How’s Joe?”

  “Restless. He’s going to join Venable in Rome tomorrow. He said he told you he would.”

  “Yes, but I thought I was going to be there to take—”

  “Care of me?” Eve finished for her. “Then you can’t blame me for feeling the same about you. Come as soon as you can.” She paused. “You know, I like this place. It’s very grand, but there’s a kind of ageless comfort about it. Ever since I stepped inside the gates I’ve been feeling a sense of . . . rightness. As if there was a reason why I should be here. Crazy, huh?”

  “No, you should be there so MacDuff can keep you safe.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I just feel . . . it’s as if there’s something here or something coming. Something . . . unfolding, and I have a part in it. Did you know there’s a painting of one of MacDuff’s ancestors who looks like you?”

  Jane sighed. “Fiona. MacDuff would have to show it to you.”

  “He didn’t. I noticed it myself. Too bad there’s not a portrait of his many-times great-great-grandmother Cira. She might look even more like you.”

  “Don’t mention that to MacDuff. He’s insistent enough now that I’m part of his blasted family. I can’t convince him I’m done with Cira and her treasure chest and everything else connected to MacDuff’s Run.”

  “Evidently not. Considering that I’m here right now. Well, it will be nice to look at the portrait since I can’t have you here.”

  “Then for the first time I’m glad I look like Fiona,” Jane said. “But don’t let MacDuff try to persuade you that it’s anything but a coincidence.”

  “MacDuff is too busy making phone calls and talking to all these guards he has tripping over each other around the estate to try to convince me of anything.” She chuckled. “And he probably realizes I wouldn’t give a damn anyway. It doesn’t matter who you are to him; it’s who you are to me that’s important.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Yes, I do thank him very frequently for bringing you into our lives. Call me as often as you can. Bye, Jane.”

  “She wasn’t angry?” Jock asked, as Jane hung up.

  “No, I didn’t really think she would be, but I had to explain. I never take our relationship for granted. It means too much to me.” She stood up. “Let’s go for a walk. I need to expend some energy. Eve said Joe was restless, and I feel a definite empathy.”

  “I can see that you do.” Jock got to his feet. “You’ve been prowling this room like a tiger cub all morning. Your Caleb had better work fast, or you’ll be a nervous wreck.”

  “No, I won’t. We’ll walk, we’ll have dinner somewhere, then I’ll come back and sketch you. Working always relaxes me, and I haven’t sketched you for years.”

  “Since the first time you came to MacDuff’s Run,” he said quietly. “You gave me one of those sketches, and I sent it to my mother. She could never understand the monster I’d become. I told MacDuff that he had to tell her what I’d done. She couldn’t be allowed to think that there was no reason I couldn’t come back to her. But how could she comprehend a son who killed? She had done her best, raised me to believe in hard work, God, and the Ten Commandments. All the things to which a good Scottish lad should adhere. After MacDuff brought me home from the hospital, he kept telling me that she’d understand. That she’d only think of that time as a terrible sickness.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t go back to her. It would only have hurt her. But I think she liked the sketch.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Jane said gently. “And I’m sure she still loved you.”

  “Maybe. Mothers are pretty helpless about things like that.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ll be glad to have you sketch me again, Jane. It will be interesting to see the difference the years have made, won’t it?”

  EVE SLOWLY PUT HER PHONE in her pocket after she had hung up. She had been alarmed when she had first learned what Jane was doing, and she was still just as frightened. Caleb might be able to find this Weismann, but he was probably a more ruthless and dangerous man than the man he was hunting.

  Blood.

  She shuddered as she remembered what she had seen him do to that serial killer, Jelak, only a few weeks ago. Yes, Caleb had saved Joe’s life and perhaps her own, but it had still been shocking. The blood running from the killer’s eyes, the screams as his brain hemorrhaged. It had been hard to accept that anyone could have the power to do that. She would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself.

  But she had seen it, and the memory wouldn’t leave her. Had she somehow known that Caleb would be back in their lives?

  But not like this. Not this horror involving Jane. She had wanted to keep Caleb away from Jane. She had sensed something between them, a sort of bonding, that had made her uneasy. Dammit, she didn’t want Jane drawn into the darkness surrounding Caleb. Yet Jane was walking toward him like a moth to a flame.

  No, she was insulting Jane. Jane was doing what she thought was right, and she was no helpless moth. Even Eve could see that Caleb could be the answer to finding Weismann. It was Eve who was feeling helpless and wanting to step in and whisk her away. It had taken all her will not to leave this haven Jane had set up for them and go after her.

  Not now. Not yet. Jane didn’t need her attention diverted because she was worrying about Joe and her.

  So she’d do what she could from MacDuff’s castle until it was time to make a move. There were a few things here that were making her uneasy, and she had to get clear.

  She left her room and strode down the hallway toward the grand staircase.

  MacDuff was coming through the massive fourteen-foot front doors.

  She paused on the top step and looked down at him. The hall was all stone and rich tapestries, and simple chests. It had none of the dated fu
rniture pieces she’d seen in other old manors. It looked as if it was a place one of MacDuff’s wild, robber-baron forbears could have walked into at any moment. And though John MacDuff was dressed in dark trousers and rolled-neck sweater, he fit effortlessly into that ancient setting. Yes, she thought, he belongs to this place in spirit as well as birth.

  He looked up as Eve came down the grand staircase. “You’ve talked to Jane? Did you convince her to come here?”

  “I didn’t try,” Eve said. “There would have been no use. She’s doing what she thinks is right. I’m the one who will have to go to her if I think it’s necessary.”

  “It’s not necessary,” he said curtly. “If she needs someone, I’ll be there for her. I promised to keep you safe.”

  “Why?” She gazed at him searchingly. “You’re turning your life here upside down. All for Jane.” She smiled faintly, “And I don’t think it’s entirely because you have this idea that she’s family.”

  “She helped Jock when he needed her.”

  “And that’s admirable, too. But you’ve been trying to coax her back here for at least two years. I’ve been standing in the background looking on, but I’ve wondered . . .”

  His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re a brilliant woman, Eve Duncan. I’d wager that you’ve done more than wonder.”

  “Well, I’ve made a few guesses.” She paused. “You’re a driven man, MacDuff. You love this property. It represents your roots, your family. Jane told me that you’ve almost lost this estate several times to taxes and exorbitantly expensive upkeep but managed to save it at the last minute.”

  He smiled. “Are you thinking I want to make a rich marriage to save it? I’m afraid Jane doesn’t qualify. She’s only a struggling artist.”

  “No, marrying for money wouldn’t suit you at all. You’re too much like your ancestors who preferred to rob and pillage. I’m talking about the chest of gold coins hidden by the first MacDuffs that you’ve been searching for all these years. At one time you thought Jane could lead you to it.”