16 Taking Eve

by Iris Johansen

  “Do you mind if I go in with you?” Venable asked quietly. “It’s either that, or I’ll have to question him later. I know he’s a special-needs kid, and you have a relationship with him.”

  Joe nodded. “Hell, yes, I have a relationship with him. When we were searching for Bonnie, he saved my life. He’s had it rough from the time he was a kid. His father was a criminal and it’s a wonder he survived the treatment he received until his father was killed. But he did survive and lives and works at a charity camp in south Georgia. He’s pretty well self-sufficient and I won’t have anyone looking down on him.”

  “Okay. Okay. No one is going to give the kid a hard time.”

  “I’ll keep the local police off him, but I don’t want your agents harassing him either.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “No, make it happen.” He strode ahead of Venable into Ben’s room.

  The boy looked as pasty pale as the white bandage that encircled his head. He shook his head when he saw Joe. “You’re going to be mad at me. I didn’t do what I was supposed to do,” he whispered. “She’s gone, isn’t she? I’m sorry, Joe.”

  “I know you did what you could.”

  “But she’s gone. He took her.”

  “You say Eve’s gone. She’s still alive?”

  Ben nodded. “I think so. The little girl says she is.”

  “Bonnie?”

  “This morning, when I was crawling through the grass trying to get to the clinic, I kept falling asleep, and Bonnie was there. I told her I tried to do what she wanted. She said there was still time.”

  Joe hoped to hell he was right. Trust him. Trust Ben’s connection with Bonnie. It was all he had right now. “Listen, Ben. How do you know Eve’s gone? Did you see who took her? Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Eve called me and told me to come back to the house. I started back right away.” He reached up and rubbed his temple. “A man jumped out of the bushes and hit me with something. I think it was a wrench. I fell down, and he hit me again. And then again, I think.”

  “Did you know him? Could you recognize him again?”

  Ben nodded. “I never saw him before. But I’d recognize him if I saw him again.” He frowned, puzzled. “He had grayish black hair and his face … He looked like…” He stopped. “He looked like Mr. Drury, one of the volunteers who helps out at the camp where I work. Well, not really. His nose was different, and so was his hair. But the way he … smiled. Mr. Drury smiled like him. Nice man, always smiling.” His frown deepened. “The man who hit me looked like that, a nice old man.”

  “He was smiling?”

  “No, he wasn’t smiling. He looked … sad.”

  “But he hit you at least a couple times, then dumped you near that urgent-care facility but not near enough to be sure they’d find you. I don’t think those were the actions of a ‘nice old man,’” Joe said. “I think whoever hit you meant to stop you or use you as a decoy to trap Eve.”

  “Then I helped him.” His eyes glistened with moisture. “I meant to help Eve, but I didn’t do it.”

  “You tried, Ben.” He gave his shoulder a brief squeeze and stepped away from the bed. “And you may still be able to do it. Suppose I get a police artist out here and have him help you remember what the man who hit you looked like?”

  “I saw something like that on a TV show.” He shook his head, troubled. “I don’t know if I’m smart enough to do that.”

  “Sure you are. The artist just has to ask the right questions. Is there anything else you can tell me about the man who took Eve? Did you see his truck, maybe a license plate?”

  He frowned. “Sort of. For just a second. It was an old red truck. No license plate. But I’ve been thinking. He didn’t seem bad. If he’s like Mr. Drury, maybe it’s all a mistake. Maybe Eve won’t be in trouble.”

  “I hope you’re right. But sometimes people aren’t what they seem,” Joe said gently. “You have to not take people at face value and pay attention to their actions. He hit you and gave you a nasty concussion, Ben.”

  “And Bonnie was worried.” His teeth sank into his lower lip. “So maybe he could hurt Eve. I have to make sure that doesn’t happen, Joe.”

  “We will. But right now, you have to rest so that you can concentrate and remember what we need to know for the police artist.”

  Ben nodded. “But then I have to go with you to find her. You’ll take me, won’t you, Joe?”

  “If it’s best for Eve. I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep.”

  “Bonnie wanted me to take care of Eve.”

  “You’ll help. Just think about the man who attacked you. Remember everything you can.” He turned toward the door. “You’ve already helped, Ben.”

  “No, I lost her,” he said desperately. “I shouldn’t have done that. I have to find her.”

  There wasn’t anything else Joe could say to comfort him. He was as desperate as Ben and was feeling the same panic. He had hoped for more information from him than he had gotten. A model of the truck, a license number, a clue, dammit.

  “He wasn’t very helpful,” Venable said as he followed him down the corridor. “But it’s good that he managed to survive the attack.”

  “He did the best he could to give us what we wanted. It wasn’t that he has a few problems. He has a concussion and suffered from—”

  “You don’t have to be defensive to me,” Venable said. “I’m just commenting. As a witness, he did as well as 70 percent of the people I’ve questioned over the years.”

  “And he may be able to help more when I get an artist to give him something to prod his memory.” He paused. “But is it necessary? Did you recognize the description? And if you did, are you going to tell me?”

  Venable didn’t answer directly. “It was a very vague description. It could be almost any pleasant-faced middle-age man. Of course, you could get a photo of that Mr. Drury he’s supposed to resemble. However, that wouldn’t be very scientific, would it?”

  “No, and according to Ben there isn’t any real resemblance, just an impression … mainly the expression.” He zeroed in again. “You’re not answering me, Venable.”

  “No, I’m not. I told you, I made a promise.”

  “Ben could have died,” he said harshly. He tried to rein in his temper. “Screw your promise.” His pace increased as he headed across the parking lot toward his car. “Your time is running out. After that, I’ll ram that promise down your throat and make you choke on it.”

  CHAPTER

  8

  “BUT BEN IS GOING TO be all right?” Jane’s hand tightened on her cell phone. “He didn’t kill him, Joe. He dropped him near that clinic. At least that’s one good thing to come out of this nightmare. I was afraid that he would be—” She stopped to steady her voice. “It’s a good sign, isn’t it? Maybe the man who took Eve isn’t—Perhaps we can reason with him.”

  “Providing we can find him,” he added bluntly. “And don’t be too encouraged. He dropped Ben in the woods a good half mile from the clinic. If Ben hadn’t roused and begun to crawl toward it, he might not have been found.”

  That was true, but Jane had been trying desperately to cling to anything that would give her hope. “You said Venable might know something?”

  “I think Venable knows a hell of a lot,” he said grimly. “And soon I’ll know everything he knows. One way or the other.”

  “Fine,” she said bitterly. “All we need is for the CIA to find a way to make you disappear. Then I’d have to find you, too.” She drew a shaky breath. “Venable likes Eve. I don’t believe he’d use her as a pawn in one of his games. There must be some reason why he’s stonewalling. We have to get him to work with us.”

  “I gave him his chance.”

  His tone was totally relentless, Jane thought. She wasn’t going to be able to persuade him.

  At least, not long-distance.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked.

  “We’re on our way to se
e a farmer near the lake cottage who reported a truck stolen. After I hang up from you, I’m going to call headquarters and see when they can send out a sketch artist to see Ben in the hospital.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll go see Ben. I can do the sketch.”

  “The hell you will.”

  “Yes, the hell I will. You know I’ve worked with the police as a sketch artist when I was in college. I can do this.”

  “Maybe when you’re not recovering from a bullet in San Juan. I need someone out here right away.”

  “You’ll have someone right away. I’m a lot stronger than I was yesterday.” But still damnably shaky. Forget it. She could rest whenever she got an opportunity. “And stop cursing. I’m going to do it, Joe.”

  “I’ll tell the hospital staff not to let you in his room.”

  “No, you won’t. I’m probably a lot better than your sketch artist. You need the best for Eve.” She added, “We need the best.”

  Silence. “God help me, I’m going to let you do it.”

  “Let? You have no choice. Now let me get off the phone and call Caleb. I’ll need some help getting out of here.” She hung up.

  She sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed.

  Dizzy …

  Ignore it.

  Her shoulder was throbbing painfully.

  Ignore it.

  Call Caleb.

  She dialed the number.

  “Jane?”

  “Come and get me. I need to be in Georgia in the next few hours.”

  Silence. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Am I going to have to bust you out of there?”

  “Probably.”

  “Interesting.” He hung up.

  Clothes. She had to get to the closet across the room.

  She waited a moment, bracing herself. Then she slipped off the bed and grabbed the bed rail.

  Weakness. Her knees felt like Jell-O.

  But they were getting stronger the longer she stood there.

  A moment later, she took a step, then another.

  And then another.

  Just stay within reach of that bed rail in case she folded.

  She opened the closet door. Her duffel was on the floor. Devon or Caleb must have brought it. A few clothes items were on hangers. No time to be picky. Just grab something, anything.

  White button-down blouse.

  Dark twill pants.

  Underwear.

  She might skip the latter for the time being. The prospect of getting dressed was looking increasingly formidable. She might need help, and she didn’t want to ask anything that intimate of Caleb. She was never sure how he would react.

  Sit down. Rest. Then start to dress after she recovered a little.

  She threw the clothes on the bed and carefully sat down in the chair beside it.

  Just a few minutes …

  She leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “Jane.”

  A deep voice, soft and yet strong.

  She stiffened in shock.

  Caleb?

  Not Caleb.

  She didn’t even have to open her eyes.

  She knew that voice so well. She had heard it in the darkest nights, thick with passion. She had listened to him laugh a thousand times. And how many times had she tensed when she had heard the anger sting like a whip?

  “Open your eyes, Jane. I’m not going away just because you don’t want me here. Not this time.”

  She slowly opened her eyes.

  He was standing in the doorway smiling at her. It had been a few years, but he looked the same as the first time she’d seen him, when she was only seventeen. He was dressed in jeans and a blue-and-white-striped shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Short, curly, dark hair framed that incredibly good-looking face. Eve had always said he looked like a movie star, and she’d been afraid Jane would be swept away by that charm and charisma. She had been swept away, but not by his appearance. She had always had the strange feeling that somehow they were meant to be together.

  And, Lord help her, she had that feeling right now.

  In spite of everything that had happened between them, she could only remember the incredible passion and that sense that they belonged to each other.

  Mark Trevor, her first love, perhaps her only love.

  She cleared her throat, but it still felt tight. “What are you doing here?”

  “Where else would I be?” He crossed the room and squatted beside her chair. “You’re hurt. You’re in trouble. You should have expected me.”

  “No, how did you get here? How did you know I was here?”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you? Didn’t I tell you I’d always be there for you? You can’t get rid of me.”

  That wonderful smile that always wrapped her in intimacy. She couldn’t look away from him.

  Of course she could. She wasn’t that besotted teenager she’d been when she’d first known him, nor the college kid who had taken him as her lover. She glanced away. “I didn’t expect you. It’s over. We don’t want the same things. We parted ways, Trevor.”

  “You parted ways. I’ve been on the sidelines, biding my time.” He leaned forward, kissed the tip of her nose, and said softly, “It had to end. All the time-outs are over for both of us, Jane.”

  Rio Grande Forest, Colorado

  SHE WAS COLD.

  Eve reached out to draw a blanket over her.

  There was no blanket.

  Or maybe it had fallen off the bed to the floor.

  She opened her eyes.

  Not the cottage. Not a bed. She was lying on a couch in a room she’d never seen before.

  A large room. Rough pine walls. High ceilings. Exposed pipes.

  A loft? Or factory?

  Why would she be—

  Then she remembered. She froze, her muscles contracting, ready to launch herself from the couch, her gaze darting wildly about the room.

  Until it landed on the object on the chair only a few feet from the couch.

  A skull, blackened, burned, its gaping orbital cavities staring at her.

  Ugly. Threat. Horror.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Eve.” It was the man, Doane, from the truck, coming toward her. “Considering your profession, I’m surprised it would bother you. I just wanted you to become familiar with him as soon as possible.” He stopped beside the chair, and his big hand reached out and gently caressed the skull. “This is Kevin. This is my son, Eve. We’re both glad to have you with us at last.”

  She stared at him in shock. Was he mad? There was a distinct possibility. Think calmly about how to handle this situation and still survive.

  She didn’t want to think calmly. She wanted to launch herself at him and attack. He had not only kidnapped her, he had hurt both Jane and Ben, and she still wasn’t sure if they had survived.

  But she wouldn’t find out by getting physical. She had to find out what this was all about; and then the path would be clear how she was to escape.

  She forced herself to look at the skull. She was as surprised as he that she’d reacted with such revulsion when she’d seen the skull. “I wasn’t bothered,” she said coldly. “I wasn’t expecting it. I suppose on some subliminal level that I thought someone was trying to frighten me.” Yet she was still feeling that same horror now, she realized. She glanced away from the skull back to Doane’s face. “That is what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

  “I have no desire to frighten you. That would be counterproductive.” He smiled gently. “I need you. We need you. I don’t wish you harm.”

  “Bullshit,” she said with precision. “You sent that man, Blick, after Jane. You struck Ben down, and I still don’t know if he died from that blow. You drugged me and brought me to this place. What the hell do you call doing harm?”

  He grimaced. “It doesn’t sound very good, does it? It was all necessary, but I was hoping that no permanent damage would be caused by my plan.”
<
br />   “Is that why Jane was shot?” She lifted her shaking hand to cover her eyes. “You did enormous harm.”

  “You heard me tell Blick that he shouldn’t have done it.”

  “Yes, you slapped his hands, but he’d already hurt her.” Her hand dropped to her side. “Is she alive or dead?”

  “Alive.”

  Relief followed by suspicion. “How do you know?”

  “I called Blick back and had him make calls. I knew that would be one of the first things you’d ask me when you regained consciousness. Jane MacGuire is at a hospital in San Juan, Puerto Rico. She has only a minor wound and should be released within a week.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

  “It would be easier for you if you did.” He shook his head. “But I realize I may have to give you more solid assurances. You’ll find it difficult to trust anything I say.”

  “You think?” she said scornfully. “Prove it to me. Let me call Joe Quinn and hear it from him.”

  “Ah, Joe Quinn. Yes, you’d believe him.”

  “He’s the only one I’d believe. Where’s my phone?”

  “I have it safely put away in case I need to scatter a red herring or two. But really, Eve, do you think I’d let you call him? He’s very smart, and he has technology at his disposal that I don’t. There’s a possibility that he could track us. I’ll have to find another way to reassure you.” He held out his hand. “In the meantime, you need to have something to eat before we talk. Let me help you up. I’m sure you need to go to the bathroom and wash your face. As I told you, that drug I gave you has very few aftereffects but you may feel a little groggy.”

  “I don’t feel groggy.” She ignored his hand and got to her feet. “I feel angry.”

  “I can see that. You’re almost rigid with rage. You’d like to attack me. From what I’ve learned about you, that might be done with a great deal of skill since you’ve been taught by your lover, who was in the SEALs.” He took a step back. “Which is why I believe I’d better clarify our situation. You might decide to attack at some point. I do have a gun, but I don’t wish to use it on you even as a threat. So I made a few advance preparations. Do you see those small holes in the ceiling?”