Blood Game: An Eve Duncan Forensics Thriller

by Iris Johansen

  “Better not. They’re going to want our reports in a hurry. Everything is going to have to be in a hurry. The captain will need answers.”

  “She’s not going to get them. Forensics is swearing that the killer didn’t leave much for them to work with. He cleaned up the site.

  “Except maybe that goblet . . .” Joe took the plastic bag from Johnson and held it up to the light. The sun was going down, but the rays pierced the plastic, and he could make out the carving. It looked like an ancient dining hall, a long table at which sat several men. All the men had goblets sitting in front of them, and one man was standing with a goblet raised in his hand.

  “I’ve got to get that to the lab, Quinn,” Johnson said. “My boss has been on my ass for the last hour.”

  “I know. The big push.” Joe handed the bag back to him. “I’m pushing too. Get it done fast, Johnson.” He turned away. “And I want a report every step of the way.”

  He started for his car, then turned and looked back at the place by the river where they’d found Nancy Jo Norris. The chalk outline gleamed in the fading light. Too neat for a murder—

  What?

  See.

  Hear.

  Open.

  He stiffened. What the hell?

  There were four uniformed officers guarding the taped-off crime scene. Forensics had gone. Two TV trucks were down the street. The words hadn’t come from there.

  See. Hear. Open.

  He moved slowly toward the trees beyond the place where Nancy Jo Norris had been murdered.

  See. Hear. Open.

  He was now in the twilight shadows cast by the trees. He stood still, listening, waiting for it to come again.

  “I don’t like it here. It scares me.”

  He whirled to the left and saw her.

  She was standing only a few yards away. Long blond hair, jeans, red University of Georgia sweatshirt, a face that he’d been staring at all day, blue eyes wide with fear and bewilderment.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked hoarsely.

  “I’m Nancy Jo. Who are you?”

  Joe felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. He could feel the small hairs rise on the back of his neck. Get a grip. There had to be an explanation.

  “You’re some relation to the dead girl? A sister?”

  “I don’t have a sister. Dead girl.” She whispered, “You’re talking about me, aren’t you? I don’t understand. How can that be? Why?”

  “How did you get here? Why didn’t the policeman on duty stop you at the tape?”

  “I’ve been here all day, watching you.” She shuddered. “You kept talking about that girl as if she was me. She’s not me. She used to be, but that was before he—”

  He had to stop this craziness. Get everything back to reality. “You’re saying that she’s not Nancy Jo Norris? Then who is the victim?”

  “Victim.” She closed her eyes. “Yes, I was a victim. I’ve been trying to run away from it. But he made me a victim. He took away my life. And my blood. He took my blood.” Her lids lifted to reveal blue eyes glittering with tears. “Why? It’s not right. It shouldn’t have happened. Not to me. I didn’t do anything bad.”

  Either he was crazy, or this girl was a crackpot. He hoped to God it wasn’t him. Regardless, he had to respond to the situation as if he was thinking and acting normally. It was his only salvation. “I think you’d better come along with me. We’ll need to question you about your relationship with the deceased and how you came to be here.”

  “He brought me here, you idiot.” The tears were suddenly gone, and her fists were clenched at her sides. “He attacked me from behind in that parking garage at Perimeter Mall and stuffed a handkerchief over my face. It smelled . . . sweet. Like the anesthetic I had when they took out my appendix. I went out like a light. Then he brought me here and slit my throat. Now what are you going to do about it? You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

  “I’m Detective Joe Quinn.” He paused. “And you’re obviously having delusions. You need help. Will you come with me?”

  “You’re saying I’m crazy, dammit. I’m not crazy. He was crazy. Do you think this is easy for me? I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do. They keep telling me I have to come away, but I think they’re wrong. I do need help. But I don’t need it from you. I’ll find my father or maybe one of those policemen over there.”

  “By all means.” He turned. “I’ll go and send an officer to you. Stay here.” He walked quickly away. Not too quickly. He wasn’t running away, he assured himself. He was just resolving a difficult situation. He glanced over his shoulder. She was still standing there, waiting.

  Shit. Admit it. Of course he was running away. Not only from Nancy Jo Norris but what it said about his sanity that he was seeing her.

  He stopped as he reached the officer standing at the tape. “Would you go and take that woman into custody, Officer Millbran? We need her for questioning.”

  “Yes, sir. Which woman?”

  “Who do you think?” He nodded. “The woman over there in the red sweatshirt.”

  “Right. I’ll go find her.” Officer Millbran sprinted toward the trees.

  Find her? She was standing there in full view waiting for him.

  The officer ran right past her into the trees.

  A shudder went through Joe’s spine. He hadn’t seen her, he realized. Millbran had been only a few feet from her, and he hadn’t seen her.

  She was looking as bewildered as Joe felt. But she couldn’t be feeling the same panic. Because he was imagining it all. She wasn’t real. Another hallucination.

  He tore his gaze away from her. He turned on his heel and strode blindly toward his car.

  What the hell was happening to him?

  JOE KEPT HIS GAZE AWAY FROM the trees, staring straight ahead, his hands clenched on the steering wheel. He wouldn’t wait for Officer Millbran to come back and tell him that there had been no woman in a red sweatshirt. He had no desire to see the young man’s confusion or hear his excuses. And he most certainly didn’t want to have to lie to him. He would deal with this problem himself, as he did everything else.

  But he had never had a problem like this, one that could affect every facet of his life. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself in a straitjacket in the booby hatch. One episode he could lay to stress. This second occurrence was a sign that he was definitely off-kilter.

  No! He would not accept that as truth while he was functioning perfectly normally in every other way.

  He started the car and pulled away from the curb. He would continue on as if nothing had happened until he could figure out what he was going through. In the meantime, he would stop at the precinct and take a look at the goblet Eve had discovered in the refrigerator and compare it with the goblet found in the hand of Nancy Jo Norris.

  Then he would go home to Eve and Jane. It seemed strange that this morning he had only wanted to get away from them. After what had happened in the woods, he supposed he should be even more afraid that they would notice something wrong with him. Somehow that wasn’t the case. He was willing to risk them tearing down his protective barriers in exchange for the love and comfort he knew they’d give him.

  In the end, pride and ego didn’t mean a damn. Love was the only thing that mattered.

  “PATTY AVERY’S ON HER WAY over with Toby,” Jane said as she came out of the bedroom. “She called me on my cell and told me to stay put. She said that she never got to see me anymore, and she was going to make damn sure that she at least had a cup of coffee with me before I took off again.”

  “It’s true,” Eve said as she put the coffee in the coffeemaker. “Joe and I see more of Patty than you do. She’s a godsend when we need someone to take care of Toby when we have to leave on a trip. She’s been a good friend to us as well as to you.”

  “She was my best friend in high school, and I thought that we’d drift apart, but she wouldn’t let that happen,” Jane said as she got the cups down from the cabinet. “Pa
tty is a virtual steamroller. She told me once that she didn’t have that many friends, and she couldn’t afford to lose one.” She frowned. “Heaven knows she has enough on her plate without taking care of Toby. How is her grandfather doing?”

  “Not well. He’s always been a bastard and his physical condition is deteriorating and he takes it out on Patty. She can’t do anything that pleases him. That’s why she keeps herself busy doing anything that will keep her close to home. She cooks, studies the stock market, repairs cars. Toby is a blessing. She said she wishes she could keep him permanently.”

  “He’s a sweet boy. I miss him.” Jane smiled. “After I finish this Parisian exhibit, I’m going to take him home. I like to leave him here because he can get more exercise but he’s no spring chicken. We need to be together.”

  Eve nodded. “He’s been with us a long time. When Sarah Logan first gave him to you as a pup, I had my doubts about a dog that was half golden retriever and half wolf, but he’s very affectionate.” She tilted her head. “And I think I hear Toby and Patty in the driveway. There’s no missing the sound of that souped-up engine she put in her Camaro. I’m surprised she doesn’t get a ticket.”

  “Are you saying you wouldn’t have Joe try to fix it?” Jane asked teasingly.

  “You know better than that. He’d never fix a ticket.” She grinned. “Though he might ask the officer just to give her a warning. He says she’s a wonder. He admires her mechanical ability tremendously.” She added soberly, “And her strength and endurance.”

  “Yes, he would be able to recognize those qualities. He sees them every day.” Jane headed for the door to the porch. “Did you talk to Joe while I was napping?”

  “Yes. He sounded . . . better. But he said he might be late.”

  “That doesn’t matter.” She opened the door. “Patty! It’s about time you—” She staggered backward as Toby launched himself at her. “Okay, boy.” She hugged him fiercely. “I missed you too. I think your face is a little whiter. But it’s very becoming.” She pushed him down as she turned to Patty. “And you look gorgeous.” She gave her a hug. “That long black braid looks very exotic and Old World.”

  “It keeps the hair out of my face,” Patty said. “I’d cut it but my grandfather would have a tantrum and I like to keep the peace. That’s the name of the game right now.” She came into the cottage. “Hi, Eve. Wonderful to see you.” She turned back to Jane and flipped her single braid back over her shoulder. “Now give me a cup of coffee and tell me what’s happening to you in the real world. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  JANE MACGUIRE WAS YOUNG, Jelak thought.

  Perhaps not quite as young as Nancy Jo Norris, but all the vigor and bloom of youth was there in the strength and lithe beauty of her body as she hugged her friend. Young, but fully a woman in contrast to the petite woman she was greeting, whose round baby face made her look almost childlike.

  Jelak lowered his binoculars. He had hoped to get a glimpse of Eve Duncan, but she hadn’t come out to greet the woman who had obviously delivered the big dog to them. He was planning to get here earlier, but he had slept too deeply after he had taken Nancy Jo’s gift. The blood first made him dizzy, then drugged, and, when he woke, strong as thunder, strong as Samson. He could feel that strength soar through him now, along with a faint regret. He’d wanted to see Eve’s face, dammit. He had seen her only in newspaper photos and on TV since he had left Atlanta all those years ago.

  Instead he had been given a bonus he hadn’t expected. Jane MacGuire. There was no question that she would be a beacon to draw Eve Duncan. He would probably need it. That police car parked down the road would keep him from getting near her. Well, not keep him from acting but make it more difficult.

  She must have found the goblet he had given her.

  Did it frighten you, Eve? I hope it did. Fear is good. It conditions you mentally and makes the blood run faster . . . and sweeter.

  It had been a risk to give her the goblet before the act, but she was very special. She had to anticipate, to know it was coming toward her. But now he had to deal with the difficulties that the warning brought. He had no problem with overcoming complications. He always found them interesting. He might just have to swerve around them and go another route to get to Eve.

  A route called Jane MacGuire.

  ________

  “DETECTIVE QUINN.”

  Joe turned as he was walking into the precinct to see a tall, handsome man in his early fifties hurrying toward him from the captain’s office. He recognized that broad, intelligent face though it was now haggard and ravaged with pain. “My sincere sympathy, Senator Norris. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that—”

  “I don’t want your sympathy. I want to know what you’re doing about finding my little girl’s murderer.” His lips tightened with pain. “Though she’s not a little girl, is she? But that was all I could think about when I was looking down at her in that morgue. My little girl . . .”

  “We’re doing everything we can. I just came back from Allatoona. I’m going to check the preliminary reports now.”

  “Your captain says you’re the best,” Norris said. “I hope she’s right. I’ll find a way to crucify you if you drag your feet. I lost my wife six years ago. It’s just been me and Nancy Jo since then. Now she’s gone too.” He turned away. “I’m going out to Allatoona now. I want to see the place where she was killed.”

  I’ll find my father.

  The words of that imaginary woman in the woods came back to him. Now Nancy Jo’s father was trying to seek a connection with his daughter by seeing where her life had ended. “I have to warn you, the media is still camped out there.”

  “I don’t give a damn.”

  Joe watched him stride out of the precinct. Poor bastard. You never knew what was going to come out of the fog and hit you. Norris had everything a man could hope to possess: money, a brilliant career, a child he loved. Take away the one most important ingredient, and he’d found out how empty the rest could be.

  Like Eve and her Bonnie.

  Don’t think about Bonnie. He had enough of a nightmare being forced to come to terms with Nancy Jo Norris.

  He turned and strode down the hall toward forensics.

  FOUR

  “I BROUGHT CHINESE,” JOE said as he walked into the cottage. “I know I should have called first. Have you eaten?” He set the bag down on the kitchen table. “Where’s Jane?”

  “Out for a walk. Patty dropped Jane’s dog off a few hours ago.” She held up her hand as he opened his lips. “And we know Toby is gentle, but he doesn’t give that appearance. No one is going to bother her with Toby near.”

  “I’m glad you’re sure. I’m not.”

  “And I called one of the officers in the squad car and asked him to follow her. And, no, we haven’t eaten dinner yet. We ate a late lunch and thought we’d wait for you.” She began to unpack the cartons in the bag. “Did you get a report on the blood in that goblet we found?”

  “Human blood. Type A negative.”

  “I was afraid of that.” She threw the empty bag in the trash. “A warning of some sort?”

  “I have no idea. It’s a definite possibility.” He got plates down from the cabinet. “Do you remember the carving on the cup?”

  “How could I forget? I stared at the damn thing for a couple hours while I was waiting for it to be picked up. Some kind of medieval dining hall, nine seated men and one standing with a goblet in his hand. Unusual.”

  “Not that unusual. We found one that was identical to it in Nancy Jo Norris’s hand.”

  She went rigid. “What?”

  “Same carving.” He was getting out the cutlery. “They’re checking the blood now. But the blood wasn’t Nancy Jo’s. She was B positive.”

  “Dear God. If it wasn’t her blood, then it had to come from another victim. You’re saying her murderer is—”

  “I don’t know.” He suddenly whirled and threw the cutlery on the table. “Dammit to hell. I
don’t know anything.” In two strides he was beside her, and she was in his arms. “It’s all crazy.” His voice was muffled against her hair. “Just hold me, okay?”

  “Okay.” Her arms went around him with fierce protectiveness. “What’s wrong, Joe?”

  “What could possibly be the matter? Other than we have a ritual killer who seems to have picked you as a victim? Everything is just fine.”

  There was something very wrong. There was an element of desperation in Joe’s voice Eve couldn’t remember ever hearing before. She had known from the moment he walked through the door that she’d been wrong in thinking that whatever had been bothering him had gone away. “It will be fine. It’s not as if we haven’t dealt with—”

  “I’ve never dealt with this.” He pushed her back and turned away. “It’s crazy.”

  Crazy. That was the second time he had said that word in the past few sentences. Eve felt a sinking sensation as she stared at him.

  You’ll call me if he doesn’t behave normally, Megan had said.

  But she couldn’t believe that Joe’s behavior had anything to do with all that Pandora business. As she had told Megan, that was too far a reach for her.

  He had a perfect right to be upset. He was a very protective man and he was worried about her.

  Upset, not desperate.

  And he didn’t want to admit that he was feeling that desperation. He seemed to view it as an admission, a loss of control.

  All right. Handle it his way. He had come home to her. Now she had to be patient and let him come the rest of the way.

  “Yes, it’s crazy.” She began to spoon the rice out on the plates. “I guess we’ll have to try to make sense of it. You’d better call Jane before this food gets cold.”

  “WHEW.” EVE WAS PANTING as she rolled away from Joe to her own side of the bed. “That was . . . interesting.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. It was just intense. Nothing wrong with that.”

  The sex that night had been explosive and completely draining. Desperation again. She had an idea that demand hadn’t been about any carnal need. “A little different . . .”