"I’m bored with me." He yawned. "In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a very dull fellow."
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"The hell you are."
"Well, I have to agree that I’m witty and supremely intelligent, but my background’s pretty mundane." He sat down opposite Eve. "Now, what about Barbara Eisley? What do you remember?"
Stubborn bastard, he’d told her as much as he was going to. She gave up as she had so many times before. "I told you, I’m not sure I knew her. There were so many caseworkers and, hey, they never stayed long in the job. Can’t blame them. Techwood wasn’t the safest neighborhood."
"Think."
"Bully." Okay, stop avoiding thinking about that hellhole where she had grown up. She let the memory flow back to her. Dirt. Hunger. Rats. The smell of fear and sex and drugs. "She might have been one of the caseworkers. I remember one woman in her late thirties. I thought she was old. She came to one of the houses on Market Street. I think I was nine or ten…"
"Sympathetic?"
"I think so. Maybe. I was too defensive to judge. I was angry at Mom and the whole world."
"Then you may have trouble bonding with her tonight."
"I don’t have to bond with her. I just have to convince her to open those files and help us find that child. There’s no time."
"Easy." His hand covered hers on the table. "One way or the other, we’ll get the records tonight."
She tried to smile. "I suppose if she won’t help, you’ll pull a Watergate at the welfare office?"
"Possibly."
He meant it. Her smile faded. "No, Joe. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“Hey, if you’re good, you don’t get caught. You don’t get caught, you’re not in trouble."
"Simplistic."
"The whole world should be so simple. I’d say the life of a kid is worth a little risk. If you’re persuasive enough, it may not be necessary for me to turn burglar. Who knows, Barbara Eisley may not be as tough as Mark claims. She could be a pussycat."
“Hell, no," Barbara Eisley said. "I don’t open those records for anyone. I’m up for my pension next year and I’m not taking any chances."
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Barbara Eisley was definitely no pussycat, Eve thought in discouragement. From the moment Grunard had introduced them, she avoided talking about the files. When Joe finally pinned her down after dessert, she responded with the bluntness of a hammer blow.
"Now, Barbara." Grunard smiled at her. "You know that no one is going to jerk your pension for a little infringement involving a child’s life. Besides, you’ve been with the department too long."
"Bull. I’m not diplomatic enough for the mayor or city council. They’re just waiting for a reason to bounce me out of my job. The only reason I’ve lasted this long is that I know where a couple of political bodies are buried." She stared accusingly at Mark. "And you quoted me on that child abuse case two years ago. It made my department look negligent."
"But it caused extensive reform. That’s what you wanted.”
“And put my ass in hot water. I should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t take risks like that anymore. I do everything by the book. I help you do this today, and tomorrow they find a way to use it against me. I’m not going to end up without a pension. I’ve visited too many old people in public housing trying to survive. That’s not going to be me."
"Then why did you accept Mark’s invitation?" Joe asked.
"Free dinner." She shrugged. "And I was curious." She turned to Eve. "I’ve read about you, but the media is sometimes full of hot air. I wanted to see for myself how you’d turned out. Do you remember me?"
"I think so. But you’ve changed."
"So have you." She studied Eve’s face. "You were a tough little kid. I remember I tried to talk to you once and you just stared at me. I thought you’d be hooking or dealing by the time you were fourteen. I would have liked to have made another try with you, but I had too many cases." She added wearily, "There are always too many cases. Too many kids. And most of the time we can’t help them. We take them away and the court gives them right back to their parents."
"But you try."
"Because I’m too stupid to give up hope. You’d think after all these years I’d learn, wouldn’t you? You turned out all right, but it was nothing I did."
"You must make a difference sometimes."
"I guess so."
"You could make a difference this time. You could save a little girl.”
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“We can’t do that. I’ve told you I can’t go through channels." Barbara Eisley was silent.
"Okay, you won’t give us the records, but maybe you remember something about this child,"
Joe said.
An undefinable expression crossed her face. "I don’t handle casework any longer. I have too much paperwork."
Eve leaned forward. "But you do remember something."
She was silent a moment. "I had to authorize taking a little girl out of a foster home two years ago. The couple who was caring for her claimed she was disruptive and disobedient. I had to bring the child in and interview her. She wouldn’t talk to me, but she was covered with bruises.
I checked her medical record and she’d been taken to Grady Hospital twice with broken bones during the last year. I gave permission for her to be removed from the home. I also removed the foster parents from our rolls." She smiled. "I remember thinking she must have been a gutsy little kid. She kept on giving those bastards hell."
"What’s her name?"
She ignored Eve’s question. "She was a smart kid. High IQ, did well in school. She probably figured they’d give her up as a meal ticket if she caused enough trouble."
"You placed her with another family?"
"We had no choice. Most of our foster parents aren’t abusive. Sometimes we make mistakes.
We can only do our best."
"Tell me her name."
Eisley shook her head. "Not without a court order. What if I was wrong?”
“What if you were right? She could die, dammit."
"I’ve spent my entire life trying to help kids. Now I’ve got to think of myself.”
“Please."
She shook her head again. "I’ve worked too hard. I still work hard." She paused. "You’d think in my position I wouldn’t have to take work home." She nodded at her briefcase beside her chair.
"But I had some old files on a computer disk to review, so here I go again." Hope flared inside Eve. "That’s too bad."
"It goes with the territory." She stood up. "It’s been an interesting evening. Sorry I can’t help you." She smiled. "I believe I have to go to the rest room. I suppose you’ll be gone when I come back. I hope you find the little girl." Her gaze narrowed on Eve. "I just remembered, the kid The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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reminded me a little of you. She stared at me with those big eyes and I thought she’d go on the attack any minute. Same tough little— Something wrong?"
Eve shook her head.
Barbara Eisley turned to Mark. "Thanks for dinner. But I still haven’t forgiven you for quoting me in that story." She turned and made her way through the tables toward the rest room.
"Thank God." Eve reached for the briefcase. It was unlocked and there was only one disk in the leather pocket on the side. Bless Barbara Eisley. She tucked it in her purse. "She wants us to take it."
"You mean steal it," Joe murmured as he threw some bills down on the table. "Which puts her in the clear." Eve turned to Mark. "Do you have a laptop with you?"
"In the trunk of my car. I always keep it there. We can check the disk as soon as we reach the parking lot."
"Good. You’ll have to drop into Barbara Eisley’s offi
ce tomorrow and leave the disk on her desk.
I don’t want to get her into trouble." She stood up. "Let’s go. We need to be out of here before she comes back. She might change her mind."
"Not likely," Joe said. "It’s pretty clear you impressed her when you were a kid.”
“Or Jane did." She started for the door. "Or maybe she’s just a woman trying to do the right thing in a wrong world."
There were twenty-seven records on the disk. It took Mark twenty minutes to scan the first sixteen.
"Jane MacGuire," Mark read from the computer screen. "The age is right. Four foster homes.
Physical description checks out. Red hair, brown eyes."
"Can you print it out?"
Mark plugged a small Kodak printer into the laptop. "She’s living right now with a Fay Sugarton who’s also foster parent to two other children. Chang Ito, twelve, and Raoul Jones, thirteen."
“The address?"
"Twelve forty-eight Luther." He tore off the printout and handed it to her. "Do you want me to get out my street map?"
Eve shook her head. "I know where it is." Dom had said she would recognize the place. "It’s in my old neighborhood. Let’s go."
"You want to go see her tonight?" Joe asked. "It’s almost midnight. I doubt if this Fay Sugarton The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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will take kindly to being awakened by strangers."
"I don’t care how she takes it. I don’t want—"
"And what are you going to say when you do see her?"
"What do you think? I’m going to tell her about Dom and ask her to let us keep Jane until the danger is over."
"It will take some persuasion to make her do that if she cares anything about the kid."
"Then you’ll have to help me. We can’t leave her in a place where—”
“You’re going to need Fay Sugarton’s cooperation," Joe said quietly. "You don’t want to get off on the wrong foot."
Okay, be sensible. Dom had set up the elaborate ploy because he wanted her to make contact with Jane MacGuire. He probably wouldn’t make a move until she’d—
Probably? God, was she risking a child’s life on probabilities? He could be at that house on Luther Street right then. "I want to go tonight."
"It would be better—" Mark began.
She cut him off. "I just want to make sure everything’s okay there. I won’t go inside and wake everyone up."
Mark shrugged and started the car. "Whatever you say."
The house on Luther Street was small and gray paint was peeling from the porch steps. But the rest of the house appeared neat and well cared for. Cheerful fake greenery hung from plastic baskets on the porch.
"Satisfied?" Mark asked.
The street was deserted. No cars cruising, no one stirring. Eve wasn’t satisfied, but she felt a little better. "I guess so."
"Good. Then I’ll drive you and Joe to his apartment and come back to watch the house."
"No. I’ll stay here."
"I was expecting that." Joe reached for his phone. "I’ll call for an unmarked car to park out here tonight and have the officer go in immediately if he sees anything out of the ordinary. Okay?"
"I’ll stay here too," Mark said.
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She looked at the two of them, undecided. And then she opened the car door. "Okay, we’ll be back at eight in the morning. If you hear or see anything, you call us."
"You’re going to walk? Let me run you home.”
“We’ll get a taxi."
"In this neighborhood?"
"So we’ll walk until we get to where we can find one. I don’t want you leaving here."
Mark looked at Joe. "Will you please tell her she shouldn’t be wandering this neighborhood? It’s too dangerous."
"Jane MacGuire wanders around this neighborhood every day of her life," Eve pointed out. "She manages to survive." Just as Eve had survived all those years ago.
Jesus, it was all coming back to her.
“The car will be here in five minutes." Joe had finished his call and he and Eve got out of the car.
"Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Eve," he told Mark. "Or maybe I’ll let her take care of me. This is her turf."
"We’ll be back at eight in the morning." Eve started down the street. Nothing really changed around here. The grass growing in the cracks in the sidewalk, the dirty words chalked on the pavement.
"And how do we get back to civilization from here?" Joe asked as he fell in beside her.
"This is civilization, rich boy," Eve said. "The real wilds are four blocks south. You’ll notice I’m heading north."
"And where did you live?"
"South. You’re a cop. You must be familiar with this area."
"Not on foot. They shoot at cops in this part of town… when they’re not killing each other."
"They. The mysterious ‘they.’ We’re not all criminals down here. We have to live and survive just like anyone else. Why the hell do you—"
"Hold it. You know damn well who I was talking about. Why are you jumping on me?"
He was right. "Sorry. Forget it."
"I don’t think we’d better forget it. You were talking as if you were still living in one of those houses on Luther Street."
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"I was never lucky enough to live on Luther Street. I told you, this is uptown.”
“You know what I mean."
She did know. "I haven’t been down here since we moved out after Bonnie was born. I didn’t think I’d react like this."
"Like what?"
"I was feeling like the kid I was all those years ago." She smiled ruefully. "I was on the attack."
"That’s how Barbara Eisley described Jane MacGuire.”
“Maybe she has a right to want to strike first."
"I don’t doubt she has every right. I’m merely suggesting that you analyze what being back here has done to you. It’s you against the world again." He added deliberately, "Or maybe you and Jane MacGuire against the world."
"Nonsense. I’ve never even met the child."
"Maybe you shouldn’t meet her. Why don’t you let me go see her alone in the morning."
She turned to face him. "What are you saying?"
"Why did Dom choose someone from this neighborhood? Why did he bring you back here?
Think about it."
She walked in silence for a moment. "He wants me to identify with her," she whispered. Christ, she was already identifying with the little girl. She and Jane had walked the same streets, suffered abandonment and hardship, fought their way through loneliness and hurt. "He’s setting me up. First talking to me about reincarnation and then choosing Jane MacGuire. He’s not satisfied with killing a child and laying the guilt on my doorstep. He wants me emotionally involved with her."
"That’s the way I figure it."
Bastard. "He wants me to feel as if he’s killing my daughter all over again." Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "He wants to kill Bonnie again.”
“And that’s why you shouldn’t go near Jane MacGuire. You’re already forming an attachment and you’ve not even met her."
“I can keep her at a distance.”
“Sure."
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"It won’t be that difficult, Joe. Not if she’s like me at that age. I wasn’t exactly approachable."
"I would have approached you.”
“And I would have spit in your eye.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to see her.”
“I have to do it."
"I know," Joe said grimly. "He hasn’t left you any way out." No way out.
Of course there would be a way out. She had fought her way out of this neighborhood. She had fought her way back to sanity after Bonnie had been killed. She wouldn’t let that son
of a bitch trap her now. Joe was wrong. She loved kids, but she was no bleeding heart. She could save Jane MacGuire’s life and beat that monster. All she had to do was keep at a distance a little girl she didn’t even know.
But Dom wouldn’t keep Jane at a distance. His shadow was already looming over her.
Don’t think about it. Tomorrow she and Joe would talk to Fay Sugarton. Tonight Jane MacGuire was under guard and sleeping peacefully.
The little girl would be safe tonight.
Maybe.
"I’ve been looking for you, Mike. I told you to go to the alley near the mission." Jane sat down near the big cardboard box. "It’s not good here."
"I like it," Mike said.
"It’s safer where there are people."
"This is closer to home." Mike eagerly reached for the paper bag she held out to him.
"Hamburgers?"
"Spaghetti."
"I like hamburgers better."
"I have to take what I can get." What she could steal, really. Well, it wasn’t exactly stealing, was it? Cusanelli’s gave its leftovers to Meals on Wheels or the Salvation Army instead of throwing them out. "Eat it and then go over to the mission."
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“I had to wait until the restaurant closed." She stood up. "I’ve got to get back.”
“Now?" He was disappointed.
"If you’d been at the mission, I could have stayed a few minutes. It’s too late now."
"You said Fay slept hard and wouldn’t wake up."
Maybe. "I have to go climb in the kitchen window. Chang and Raoul have the room next door to the kitchen."
"I don’t want to get you in trouble."
But he was lonely and wanted her to stay. She sighed and sat back down. "Just until you finish."
She leaned against the brick wall. "But you got to go to the mission alley. It’s not good to be alone. There are all kinds of creeps around who could hurt you."
"I always run away like you told me.”
“But there’s no one to hear you if you call out.”
“I’m okay. I ain’t scared."
She knew she couldn’t make him understand. Fear was where his father lived.
Everywhere else was safe in comparison. Maybe it would be okay tonight. She hadn’t seen that creep for a couple of days. "How long does your father usually stay when he comes back?"
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