Blood Game ed-9

by Iris Johansen

  “I wouldn’t ask her to do it.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Lord, I hope I wouldn’t ask her. I know what it would do to her.” She gazed at Jane across the table. “She thinks I’ll ask her someday. She’s already told me that she won’t do it. That it would be worse for me to really know the details of how Bonnie died.”

  “My respect is growing for her. She may be right,” Jane said. She held up her hand as Eve opened her lips. “I hope with all my heart that you find Bonnie. But I don’t want you to find a new stock of nightmares along with her.”

  Eve was silent a moment. Even Jane could see the dangers that Megan had told her about. Eve could see them, too, but to find Bonnie . . . To bring her home . . .

  “Eve . . .”

  Jane’s expression was full of love, full of understanding, full of concern. “Listen, Eve. I’d like to say I know how you feel, but there’s no way anyone could.” She reached across the table and took both of Eve’s hands. “When I was a kid, I was even a little jealous that you could love Bonnie so much. I never wanted to take her place. I just wanted to find a way to take away your pain. But I knew I never could.” She shook her head as Eve opened her lips to speak. “And when I grew older, I began to understand. To lose a child . . . I probably won’t fully realize what that means until I have a child myself. But even if I can’t feel what you feel, I want you to know that I’m with you until hell freezes over.”

  “I know you are.” Eve could feel her throat tighten with emotion. “And I bless the day we found you.” She smiled with an effort. “Enough of this. You haven’t been home a few hours, and you’re already worried about Joe, worried about me, and trying to solve all the problems in the world. Now, forget about us. Tell me about your work. Are you working on a new painting?”

  “No, I’ve been too busy doing public-relations stuff with the gallery.” She made a face. “You know how I love that. I’m not meant for—” She stopped as Eve’s phone rang. “Answer it. You don’t really want to hear about my trials and tribulations with the media.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re not getting out of it.” She glanced at the ID. “It’s Montalvo.”

  Jane’s brows rose. “Montalvo’s still on the scene?”

  “Yes, but he’s under control.” As much as anyone could control him. She punched the button. “I’m very busy, Montalvo.”

  “Why do you always greet me as if I was on the attack?” Luis Montalvo’s voice was amused. “When you know I only want the best for you.”

  “I’m having coffee with Jane. What do you want, Montalvo?”

  “Ah, your Jane. The beautiful Jane MacGuire. I didn’t know she was back in the country.”

  “She just flew in from Paris.”

  “Then I won’t keep you. I just wanted to tell you that I received word from one of my investigators that he’d come up with the possible location of Kevin Jelak.”

  She stiffened. “What?”

  “Well, at least, the general location. He traced a credit-card receipt to Garsdell, Alabama.”

  Alabama. Just across the state border. “So close . . .”

  “Maybe too close. I was wondering what he was doing on your doorstep. And why now?”

  “I was thinking just last night that I would have to try to find him and Paul Black.”

  “I knew that would be your next move the moment you found out that you’d tracked down the wrong killer. That’s why I made a few phone calls. It’s a very slim lead, nothing that you can get your teeth into . . . yet.”

  “Then why didn’t you wait until you had something more promising?”

  “Because I’ll always give you what you want, not what I think is good for you. That’s how Quinn and I differ.” He paused. “How is Quinn?”

  “As disappointed as I am that we didn’t find Bonnie.”

  “Then I’m sure you’ll share the news of this new opportunity on the horizon.”

  “Yes, I share everything with Joe.”

  “Lucky man,” Montalvo said. “But I’d wait a little while before you break it to him. He may need a period of adjustment.”

  “Your concern is touching.”

  “I am concerned. I told you that I was going to be Quinn’s new best friend. After all, he did save my life.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And I’m truly grateful.” His tone was sincere. “But I have to balance my obligations toward you and my duties toward my new best friend. It may be quite a challenge. Perhaps you’d better put Quinn on the phone so that I can tell him myself.”

  “He’s at the precinct.”

  “Then I’ll have to rely on you to tell him later,” he said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something more. Or maybe I’ll call my new best friend.”

  “You’re gritting your teeth,” Jane said, as Eve hung up the phone. “Montalvo always gets a definite response from you. Though not always positive.”

  “Seldom positive. Always disturbing,” Eve said. “He said that he’s possibly located one of the other men who are on the suspect list for Bonnie’s murder.”

  “Possibly? Is he dangling a carrot in front of you?”

  “Maybe. But he wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “You trust him?”

  “Yes.” Montalvo was brilliant, complicated, dangerous, and sometimes ruthless, but he was not a liar. Their relationship was complex, and she would just as soon he disappeared from her life. Yet in many ways he understood her better than anyone else. Montalvo had been an arms dealer in Colombia when Eve had first met him. He had searched for a long time for the body of his wife, who had been murdered, and had brought Eve into his search in return for the names of the three men who could have killed her Bonnie. Since she and Montalvo had suffered a similar loss and a similar obsession, that bond was hard to overlook. “I trust him. But every time I turn around, he does something that takes me off guard.”

  “Such as?”

  “He says he wants to be friends with Joe.”

  “What?” Then Jane started to laugh. “He’s joking. Right? Joe is jealous as hell of Montalvo. He’d as soon cut his throat as look at him.”

  “No, he’s not joking.”

  Jane studied her thoughtfully before she gave a low whistle. “What a crafty bastard. And what a great way to insinuate himself into your life.”

  “Yes. But it’s not going to work.” Or maybe it would, Eve thought. Joe had saved Montalvo’s life, and that made a difference to Montalvo. Her opinion was similar to Jane’s, but in the end no one really knew Montalvo but Montalvo. “But at least he’s still feeding me information.”

  “Jelak.” Jane nodded. “What do you know about him?”

  “Nothing much. Only that he was one of three men who Montalvo’s investigators thought might have killed Bonnie. He lived here in Atlanta at the time she disappeared but moved and dropped from sight all those years ago.” Her lips tightened. “But I’ll know a hell of a lot more soon.”

  “Through Montalvo?”

  “If I have to tap him.” She finished her coffee. “But I meant Joe. I’ll call him and ask him to check out that credit slip in Alabama.” She leaned back in the chair. “Now why don’t you go to bed and get some sleep? You must be exhausted.”

  “A little tired.” Jane got up and started to clear the table. “And I don’t think that even this coffee is going to keep me awake.” She took the creamer over to the refrigerator. “I doused it with milk to weaken the caffeine.” She put the creamer in the refrigerator. “Though I would much rather have had it—” She stopped, her gaze on the lower shelf of the refrigerator. “What the hell is that?”

  “What?”

  “That cup. It’s gold or brass or . . . It’s pushed way in the back and I almost didn’t see it. The light caught it and . . .” She squatted and reached inside the refrigerator. “I think there’s something in it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eve stood up and crossed the kitchen. “The only thing I use is Tupperware, and tha
t’s definitely not gold or brass. And for the last couple weeks we haven’t been cooking or storing—” She stopped as she saw the object Jane was holding. “What is it?”

  “That’s what I asked you.”

  The gold cup in Jane’s hand was really a goblet that looked like something from a medieval feast. It was intricately carved with script and scenes that appeared to be taking place in some ancient dining hall.

  “I never saw it before,” Eve said flatly.

  “Joe?”

  “I’ll ask him. But it’s not his style. He’s not a collector, and this appears to be something you’d see in a gift shop at a castle. Or one of those art magazines that sell medieval movie memorabilia.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s nice work, not cheap.” Jane was turning the goblet. “Beautiful carving. I can’t make out quite what it—” She lifted the cup to her nose. “It looks like a sort of dark red paste, dried . . . but it smells . . . coppery.”

  “Copper?” Eve took the goblet and looked down at the dark red contents. A chill was going through her. She had smelled that scent before, and it was hard to forget. She lifted the goblet and smelled it. Definitely copper. The muscles of her stomach clenched as she tried to keep from being sick.

  Jane was watching her expression. “Is it what I think it is?”

  Eve looked down at the cup. Beautiful goblet. Shimmering and full of artistry and scenes of times gone by. Yet all she could think about was the dark red contents staining the goblet.

  “Blood.” She quickly set the goblet on the counter. “It’s full of blood.”

  ________

  “ YOU’RE SURE?” JANE ASKED.

  “Yes, blood coagulates very quickly, but this goblet must have been full to the brim of liquid at one time.”

  “What do we do?” Jane asked. “You’re sure you’ve never seen it before?”

  Eve shook her head. “No.” She added dryly, “I don’t generally keep goblets of blood on hand.” She swallowed. “And it’s scaring the hell out of me. I feel . . . violated. How did it get in my house?” She forced herself to look back at the cup. “As for what we do, first we should find out if that blood is human.”

  “And like you, I’m wondering how it got here,” Jane said.

  Eve nodded. “Joe and I were both away from the cottage for those days we were down in Okefenokee Swamp. It would have had to have happened then.” She added, “But I know Joe set the alarm before we left.”

  “You can get around alarms. And my dog, Toby, wasn’t here. You said Patty is still taking care of him?”

  Eve nodded. “I’m glad he wasn’t here. He may be half wolf, but I think the golden retriever dominates. He doesn’t have the killer temperament.”

  Jane nodded. “There’s something very creepy about the idea of goblets of blood. Sort of vampirish. Shades of Béla Lugosi.”

  That comparison was too close to what Eve had been thinking. “You would have to bring that up. As far as I remember, he didn’t use goblets. He took his blood straight from the victim.”

  “Whatever.” Jane glanced away from the goblet. “I suppose it could be a practical joke or something. Your profession could make you a target for that kind of thing.”

  Eve shook her head. “I’d like to believe that but I don’t. It’s too . . . ugly.”

  “Absolutely. I want to get rid of it,” Jane said. “Let’s send the damn thing away and get the blood analyzed. And I want someone from the department out here to protect you. Do you call Joe or do I?”

  “I’ll do it.” Eve dialed Joe’s cell. It rang five times before voice mail picked up.

  She frowned as she slowly hung up. “No answer. But he has to be on his way to the precinct. Maybe he’s on a call. I’ll try again in a few minutes.” She moved toward the bedrooms. “In the meantime, let’s go through the house and see if we come across any more charming mementos.”

  “THE CRIME SCENE IS IN THE woods along Lake Allatoona. Near Kellogg Creek,” Detective Gary Schindler told Joe when he called him on his cell.

  “Why me?” Joe asked. “I’m still working the Kistle wrap-up.”

  “The captain wants you on this one. Hell, she’s going to want everyone on this one. It’s my day off, and they called me at home and told me to get my ass out there. The victim is Nancy Jo Norris, and the media is going to be all over us.”

  “And who is Nancy Jo Norris?”

  “Daughter of Senator Ed Norris. She was a sophomore at the University of Georgia and only nineteen years old.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. Pretty kid. The forensic team should be there by the time we get there.”

  “I’m on my way.” Joe hung up and turned right toward the freeway. It was just as well that he wasn’t going directly to the precinct. In his present frame of mind, paperwork would have driven him nuts.

  Nuts. Not a comfortable word to use right now after what had happened before dawn this morning. Hallucinations were definitely signs of instability. Seeing the spirit of Bonnie Duncan verged on insanity.

  Screw it. There was nothing wrong with him. He’d been under stress for months, years, and it had all been connected with Eve’s daughter, who had disappeared all those years ago. This latest disappointment in trying to find both Bonnie’s killer and her body had tipped the balance, and he’d had a few moments of disorientation. It would never happen again.

  And it had probably had something to do with working with Megan Blair to find Kistle. All that psychic stuff had seemed too damn authentic. Now he was back in the real world, and he’d be just fine as soon as he could shake off that—

  His cell phone rang. Eve. He hesitated before he answered. It had been crystal clear she had been aware of his disturbance this morning. How could she help it? Not only had he behaved irrationally, but they were too close not to be conscious of every nuance of each other’s feelings. That was why he had practically fled the cottage. There was no way he was going to worry her about that weird hallucination.

  But he couldn’t ignore her call.

  “Everything okay?” she asked when he picked up. “I couldn’t get you.”

  “I got a call to go directly to a crime scene at Lake Allatoona.”

  “Then I won’t keep you.” Eve paused. “Jane found something sort of macabre on a shelf in the bottom of the refrigerator. A very intricately carved gold goblet. You don’t know anything about it, do you?”

  “What? Hell, no. What’s macabre about it?”

  “It has blood in it. I don’t know if it’s human blood. Would you send someone out to pick it up for testing?”

  Joe tensed. This was the morning for weird, but blood was real and more chilling than any hallucination. “As soon as I get off the phone. And I’ll send someone out to watch the place. Be careful until he gets there.”

  “Oh, I will. I don’t like any of this. Particularly now that Jane’s here,” Eve said. “The goblet had to have been placed there while we were at the swamp. It could just be some nut who read about me and my work and wanted to freak me out. But whoever did it was able to get around the alarm system. I’m calling the alarm company and getting them to come out and go over it and make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She paused. “Montalvo called. He said that his investigators traced a credit-card receipt for Kevin Jelak to a town across the border in Alabama.”

  “Montalvo didn’t let any grass grow under his feet,” Joe said sarcastically. “Kistle is barely dead, and he’s scrambling to keep you on the hunt.”

  “Montalvo wouldn’t manufacture evidence,” she said. “It’s just a strange coincidence that Jelak is suddenly making an appearance.”

  “I don’t believe in coincidences.” He turned down Kellogg Creek. “I’ll check out this Kevin Jelak lead.” He paused. “I was a little curt with you this morning. I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little on edge.”

  “More than a little. Are you ready to tell me why?”

  He ignored the question since there was no way he would tell
her what she wanted to know. “Call me if you have any more problems.”

  “I hope I don’t,” Eve said dryly. “We’ve had quite enough to start off the day. It’s barely eight in the morning.” She hung up.

  Yes, the day had started with explosive disturbance and was continuing in the same vein, Joe thought. From the moment he had gotten out of bed at five and put the coffee on while he was waiting for Eve and Jane to get home from the airport. But that memory of what had come after was rushing back to him and he was trying to keep cool and calm.

  Everything had been normal until he had gone out on the porch. He had been gazing out at the lake and thinking about Eve.

  See.

  Hear.

  Open.

  What on earth was happening to—?

  “Hello, Joe.”

  He whirled toward the porch swing,

  A little girl was curled up on the swing. “I’ve wanted to come to see you so many times, but I couldn’t do it. I’m so happy I can do it now.”

  In the dimness of the porch she was only a blur, but she couldn’t be more than seven or eight. The nearest house was miles away. How had she gotten here? “Who are you?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be here. Where’s your family?”

  “Coming. But you’re my family, too, Joe. You closed me out for so long, but something . . . happened. You’re open to me now.”

  Hear. See. Open.

  “Yes, that’s right, Joe.”

  “No, it’s not right. None of this is right. You should go home. Your parents must be worrying.”

  She shook her head. “You know that won’t happen. You know who I am.”

  “The hell I do.” The dawn rays were gradually banishing the pool of darkness surrounding the swing, touching the little girl’s curly red hair and small face with light. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. This was crazy. Yet he didn’t feel crazy. He felt a weird sense of . . . peace. “Who are you?”

  “It’s going to be all right, Joe. I promise you.”

  “Who are you?”

  The sunlight was now surrounding her as had the darkness before, revealing the Bugs Bunny T-shirt she was wearing.

  “Why, Joe.” Her luminous smile lit her face and reached out to touch him, embrace him, enfold him in love. “I’m Bonnie.”