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Taking Eve

Page 27

by Iris Johansen


  “Cat?” Venable asked.

  “Never mind,” Joe said.

  “Blick,” Jane repeated. “He must know where Doane can be found. He’s not as smart as Doane, right? Can you find him?”

  “I’m working on it. I have a few leads.”

  “Which you didn’t include in the dossier on him you gave us,” Joe said sarcastically. “That was very spare.”

  “I had to make sure that I couldn’t handle this alone.”

  “Oh, yes, your kindly general and all those other people at risk.”

  “If it wasn’t Eve, you’d be just as careful.”

  “It is Eve.” He reached for his phone. “All we have right now is that house in Goldfork. There’s got to be something there that will give us a lead.”

  “We went over that house with a fine-tooth comb, Joe. My team didn’t find anything.”

  “I hope that search wasn’t too thorough. They might have messed up any chance—”

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Someone I trust more than your guys to find anything Doane might have left behind to point the way.”

  Jane nodded immediately. “Kendra Michaels. Eve told me about her. Said she’s amazing. Can she help us, Joe?”

  “I hope to God she can. I’ve never seen anyone more able to delve into a crime scene and pull up answers. She and Eve are friends. I know she’ll try.” He turned away and walked across the porch as Kendra answered. “Kendra? Joe Quinn. I need your help. Stop bitching. I know you’re busy. You’re always busy. You’ll have to drop whatever it is. Be quiet, and let me talk.”

  Jane tuned him out as she turned back to Venable. “Zander. He seems to be a principal target if Doane waited five years to hunt him down. Maybe we can get him to work with us to trap Doane.” Venable was shaking his head. “Why not? It’s worth a try to save her.”

  “He won’t do it. He won’t care.”

  “Then we’ll make the son of a bitch care. If I have to do it by pointing a knife in his belly.”

  “Not a good idea,” Caleb murmured. “There are other ways to force the issue. I might be able to help.”

  “You won’t get near him,” Venable said. “He’d consider it an annoyance.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “I know where he was a few days ago. He quite probably moved out after I warned him that Doane might be coming after him.”

  “He’s afraid?”

  “No, he just moves on if there’s any chance of a disturbance that might attract attention.”

  “Can you find out if he’s still there? You have his telephone number?”

  He nodded. “But it won’t do any good. Listen, I don’t want you getting any more hurt than you are now, Jane. He’s one of the most dangerous men I’ve ever met. Stay away from Zander.”

  “I can’t stay away from him. Doane wants him dead. We may be able to use him.” She looked him in the eye. “You find out where he is right now. You follow up your leads and find Blick. What about Tarther? He’s a target, right? At least we know where he is.”

  “I could run up there and keep an eye on him,” Caleb said.

  “He’s already being guarded,” Venable said. “I set a guard as soon as I knew Doane had left Goldfork.”

  “Good, then I can concentrate on doing a little scouting around.” He looked at Jane. “Until you need me.”

  She was not going to refuse. No one was more expert at the hunt than Caleb. “Thank you.”

  “It’s better if I’m out of the way when Trevor comes anyway.” He smiled. “And with any luck, I may be able to lay the head of one of those snakes at your feet. That would be much more productive for me and put me in a wonderful light.” He turned to Venable. “Give me the address and any other information I should have about Tarther.”

  Jane took a step closer to the rail and looked out at the lake as they began to speak. Joe was still talking to Kendra Michaels, and Jane was suddenly feeling very much alone.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Margaret said softly as she moved to stand beside her. “We’ll all work hard, and we’ll get her back. But I’m confused about this Kendra Michaels. Can she really help?”

  “I don’t know,” Jane said wearily. “She’s supposed to be brilliant and a bit temperamental, but Eve trusted her. She’s some kind of music therapist who was blind most of her life until recently and now works with law enforcement on occasion.”

  “Blind?”

  “I know, I know. It’s all crazy. But I don’t care. I’ll take a chance on her.” She added desperately, “I’ll take a chance on anyone who’s willing to try to find Eve.” She moistened her lips. “Even you, Margaret. You have no business being here, but I’m going to let you take your risks. God, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry. It’s what I want. But a moment ago you were hurling orders and marshaling us all to battle. What happened?”

  “Why did I fall apart? I miss her,” she said unevenly. “I’m fine while I’m doing something that could get her back, but when I have moments of quiet, the panic and sadness hit home. I can’t tell you how many hours Eve and I have spent on this porch talking or just sitting and looking out at the lake. There’s a closeness I never knew before I came to her. She’d had her real daughter, Bonnie, and lost her. I hadn’t had anyone but a long line of foster parents who didn’t give a damn about me. She cared. I don’t know why because I wasn’t an easy kid. We just sort of completed each other.”

  “That’s pretty wonderful.”

  “Yeah. You bet it is.”

  “I never had someone like that,” she said quietly. “Maybe someday.” She turned toward the door. “You don’t want anyone right now. I was going to talk to you about what I could do to help, but I’ll go make myself useful and brew us up some coffee instead.”

  Margaret’s sensitivity extended to more than animals, Jane thought as she looked back at the lake. She suddenly tensed as she caught sight of trucks and divers pulling up on the far north bank. They were going to search for Doane’s car.

  And the body inside it.

  It was starting. The hunt, the deaths …

  But not Eve’s death. They had made small steps, and they would make more now that they had names and an idea of Doane’s agenda.

  Hold on, Eve. I’ll never give up. We’re coming for you.

  Rio Grande Forest, Colorado

  WE’RE COMING FOR YOU.

  Pain. Sorrow. Panic.

  Jane?

  A dream …

  Eve’s eyes opened, and she lay there a moment until the drowsiness left her. It had been strange to have that dream about Jane when Bonnie hadn’t been able to reach her until she was in a drugged sleep. Life and death. Perhaps it made a difference in the battle with that darkness.

  Or perhaps it was just Eve’s own desire to reach out for the ones she loved in this place that was filled with ugliness and hate.

  Forget dreams. Change the place. Escape the ugliness herself.

  She got to her feet and moved toward the bathroom. The oak boards were cool on her bare feet. It was always cool, often freezing, at night in the mountains. She had to remember to dress as warmly as she could. There was no telling how long she’d have to be on the run until she could find anyone to help her. She didn’t even know how close she was to a main road. It had seemed at least fifteen minutes before they had reached smooth pavement instead of rock.

  She listened a moment before she turned on the shower. Doane was breathing steadily, deeply. She had tucked the spatula into her pocket, and she could try to jimmy the lock now. Lord, she didn’t want to sit down in front of Kevin’s reconstruction again.

  No, Doane’s breathing was changing. He was waking. Perhaps it was for the best. She wasn’t ready. Try later.

  Plan. She had to have a plan that would take care of all aspects of her escape. And what about her course when she made it outside? Not easy. Doane had set a load of complications for her to overcome. She could do it. She just ha
d to have a plan and not try to wing it.

  Today, Doane. I promise you, it will be today, you bastard.

  CHAPTER

  16

  “YOU’VE GOT THE NOSE.” DOANE’S eyes were glinting with excitement as he stared at the skull. “You said it would be so hard, but it came quickly, almost like magic.” He added softly, “Kevin’s magic. He’s telling you what to do, isn’t he?”

  “No, I’m just damn good at my job.” She avoided looking at the nose that had emerged beneath her fingers in an incredibly short time. “Your son is dead, and he has no magic. All that’s left of him is this hideous skull.”

  “It’s not hideous anymore. You’re making him the way he was before Zander killed him.” His gaze was visually caressing the skull. “But it will be better when you put in the eyes. Go ahead and do it.”

  She stiffened. “It’s not time. There’s a lot of smoothing and fine-tuning to do. The eyes are the last thing to go in.”

  “You could do all that stuff later. I want to see his eyes. They were blue like mine. But his were sharper, keener, almost mesmerizing.”

  “You’ll be disappointed. These are glass eyes, and they only reflect color, not personality.”

  “Maybe. Put them in.”

  She did not want to put those eyes into the skull. She did not want to complete this reconstruction of a monster. “Later.” She pushed her stool back. “I need a cup of coffee.” She walked toward the kitchenette. She could feel the tension in every muscle. It was almost time. It was late afternoon, and she needed to escape while she could still see the terrain to give herself the best chance. Doane was excited, impatient, absorbed with his son, less likely to notice anything different about her demeanor. Good. Because she felt as if her determination and nervousness were blatantly obvious.

  Calm down. She had a plan, didn’t she? She had worked and experimented with those gas vents. It wasn’t as if she were going at this blind.

  “You can’t have everything your own way, Doane.” She put on the coffeemaker. “You brought me here because I’m an expert, right? Now let me do my work the way it should be done.”

  “Yes, you’re an expert.” He was frowning. “And that’s one of the reasons why I brought you here. Not the only one. I had no idea you’d be so difficult. I want those eyes put in.”

  She turned her back on him and reached for a coffee mug.

  He muttered a curse. “You’re a bitch who doesn’t realize how helpless you are. I’m the one in charge. I’m the one who makes the calls. I have the—” His phone rang, and she saw him check his ID as she glanced over her shoulder. “Curious?” He was smiling maliciously. “I made a call to Blick last night. I wanted someone dead. That’s how much power I have. I just say the word, and someone dies. Do you know who I told him to kill?” He punched the access. “Hold on, Blick. A lesson is in progress.” He looked at Eve. “You heard me send him to your lake cottage when we were in the truck. People you care about are there. Did I tell him to kill Joe Quinn? Jane MacGuire?”

  She couldn’t breathe, her chest painfully tight. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Which one, Eve?” he asked softly.

  She moistened her lips. “Neither. You wouldn’t want to sacrifice a possible way to control me.”

  “Clever. But I had you for a minute, didn’t I?” He pressed the speaker button on the phone. “Go ahead, Blick. Success?”

  “He’s dead. I killed him in his garden. It was a great shot. I was able to break into the house next door and zero in on him from one of the upper-floor windows. Kevin would have been proud of me.”

  “I’m sure he would have been. Any interference?”

  “A guard inside the house. I was able to get away while he was checking out the old man.” He paused. “You know, I think the old man knew I was there. He lifted his head as if he was listening or something. Then he just sat there as if he was waiting. Weird.”

  “But he’s dead, that’s all that counts.”

  “Yeah, where do you want me to go from here?”

  “I’ll let you know.” He looked at Eve. “Maybe back to the lake cottage.”

  “Whatever you say, but the woods were crawling with cops. It may be chancy.”

  “I’ll let you know,” Doane repeated. He hung up.

  “Who … is the old man?”

  “I think you can guess. You’re so clever. General John Tarther. He’s lucky he lived to be this old. He’s been on borrowed time for the last five years.” He looked back at the reconstruction. “But we got him, didn’t we, Kevin? I couldn’t make it last as long as I wanted. I sent him to you to do whatever you want with the bastard.”

  She shuddered as she saw Doane’s vicious intensity. “Why now?”

  “I’m sure you realized that my call to Zander last night was the signal for the game to start. I was willing to let Blick take care of Tarther, so that I could concentrate on Zander.”

  And while Eve had slept, an old man who had only sought final justice for the death of his child had breathed his last.

  Rest in peace.

  Help him, Bonnie.

  “So you can see that I’m in charge. I make the rules. One phone call, and I can—”

  “I understand you.” She didn’t want to hear any more. She was sad and sick at the thought of that needless death. She had to stop that obscene bragging. “I’m duly intimidated.”

  “No, you’re not. But you will be. Put in Kevin’s eyes.”

  “Do it yourself.”

  He was taken aback. “What?”

  “If you won’t let me finish the rest the way it should be done, then do it yourself.” She poured the hot coffee into her mug. “Placing the eyes is the simplest part of the process, and who should know better how they should look.” She took a sip of coffee. “I’ll open the display case for you, if you like.”

  “I don’t know if…” But he was beginning to like the idea. His expression was intrigued. “You’re right; I know exactly how he should look.”

  “And your Kevin would love having someone simpatico add the final touches. I don’t think he likes me much, does he?”

  “No, he liked you better before he realized how strong you made the little girl,” he said absently. He was suddenly eager, excited. “Yes, Kevin would like me to do him that service. It would be the way we helped each other when we were together.”

  Helped each other victimizing those children, she thought, sick. “I’ll get the case.” She crossed the room to the worktable. “I might have to build up the under-eye area to support the eye.” She set her coffee down on the worktable and reached underneath and pulled out the case. “I usually use brown eyes, but I notice you made sure I had blue.”

  “Of course.” He watched as she opened the case. “It’s not as if I didn’t know exactly what he looked like.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything about me looking at photos then?”

  “You didn’t do it with other reconstructions. I wanted you to get the feel of him.” His eyes were fixed in fascination on the glass eyes she’d revealed. “And you did.”

  There was no doubt about that, Eve thought. Even at this moment, she felt entirely too close to that skull.

  “Now it’s your turn to get the feel of him.” She lifted her coffee to her lips. “Pick up one of the eyeballs. Careful.”

  “They’re not as beautiful as Kevin’s.” He carefully picked up the glass eye. “But they’ll have to do.” His head lifted to look at the empty orbital cavities. “We’re so close, Kevin. Just this one more—”

  Eve threw the scalding coffee into Doane’s eyes!

  He screamed. He dropped the glass eye and frantically reached for his own eyes.

  Eve’s hand darted out in a karate chop to his neck. He dropped to his knees. His hand reached blindly for the weapons in his pocket. “Bitch.”

  Hurry.

  No time to try another karate blow. Even though he couldn’t see right now, she knew he had a gun as well as the emble
m with the gas release in that pocket.

  Keep to the plan.

  She dashed the short distance to the bedroom, grabbed the duffel she had set by the door.

  Then she was running back toward Doane and the reconstruction.

  Doane was still flailing, but he had his gun half-out of his pocket. “You think I can’t see you? You’re hazy, but that’s all I need to shoot you. Stop where you are. I have a use for you. I’m not ready to kill you yet, bitch.”

  “Really? I’m ready to kill you,” Eve lifted her foot in a karate kick that struck his hand and sent the gun flying. She dove for the gun, but he was suddenly there on top of her.

  He was heavy. So heavy. The best she could do was push the gun spinning across the floor to the opposite side of the room.

  No chance to get across the room to retrieve it, she realized in despair.

  “Kill me?” he taunted, his hands closing on her throat. “We’re too strong for you. Can’t you feel our power? I’ll squeeze the life out of you. No, not quite. Not yet.”

  She was getting dizzy as her air was shut off. Move now or not at all.

  She lunged upward and butted her head against his forehead with all her strength.

  He grunted with pain, and his grip loosened.

  She tore free and rolled to the left, punching him in the stomach.

  But he was recovering quickly, reaching for her.

  Get out. Get out. Get out.

  But keep to the plan.

  Do the one thing she dreaded the most.

  She jumped to her feet and whirled toward the dais, where the reconstruction stared at her with those blind eyes.

  Don’t look at him. He’s nothing. He’s only bone and clay.

  She took a deep breath.

  The next instant she reached out, snatched the skull from the dais, and threw it in her open duffel.

  “What are you doing?” Doane screamed. He was right behind her, his hand grabbing her shoulder. “What are you doing to my Kevin?”

  She tore away from his grip and ran toward the door.

  “You’re insane. I told you what would happen if you opened that front door.” He was reaching for the control emblem in his pocket. “But I’m not going to wait. I’ll bring you down now and have you groveling.”

 

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