Hunting Eve

by Iris Johansen

“So soon? I thought it would take the forensics team hours to finish going over it.”

  “More like days. They just needed to give it a quick once-over before we transport it to the FBI garage in Atlanta.”

  Kendra pulled on the gloves. “FBI? I’m surprised you’re letting them take possession of such a key piece of evidence.”

  “They have the facilities to handle it here. The CIA doesn’t.” Venable shrugged. “We’re not above a little interagency cooperation.”

  Kendra moved toward the car, watching as the body bag holding the corpse of Hallet was carried up the embankment to the waiting van. “I hoped I’d be looking at this in daylight, but these work lights should do.”

  Venable handed her his brighter-than-bright tactical flashlight. “This should help, too.”

  Kendra turned it on and stood over the trunk again. She glanced over the entire compartment, trying to catch anything that had escaped her attention when the farmer’s body was inside.

  “Two days underwater doesn’t make it easy,” Venable said.

  “Definitely not. But it did wash enough grime to see that the driver of this recently transported something.”

  “Something other than a dead body, you mean?”

  “Yes.” Kendra pointed to several indentations in the metal bottom and side panels of the trunk. “These are fresh. Probably made in the past couple weeks. See how shiny and reflective the marks are.” She gestured up to the trunk lid’s interior. “It was big enough that the owner had to drive with the trunk open.”

  Venable pointed to a frayed piece of nylon rope attached to the truck latch. “And tied down.”

  “Exactly. And you see fresh marks on the inside trunk lid that matched the ones on the bottom. Two symmetrical rails, maybe chair arms or some other furniture piece. Hard to say.” She pulled out her phone and clicked off several photos of the trunk.

  She glanced at the last shot on her photo screen. A shallow indentation of the trunk was filled with sediment and lake water, but something else was throwing back a reflection from her phone’s camera flash.

  She leaned inside, trying to ignore the still-pungent odor stinging her nasal passages. She slowly waved her flashlight back and forth over the bottom of the trunk.

  There!

  A metallic glint punched through the sediment.

  Venable leaned over her shoulder. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. It looks like…” She used the end of her sleeve to scrape up a tiny bit of the sediment, then turned her wrist against the large work light.

  “Gold?” Venable said.

  Kendra nodded. “Maybe. It’s a little more granular than gold dust and a bit dull, almost unprocessed. Do you have an evidence bag?”

  “Actually, no. Not my department.” Venable stepped over to one of the FBI forensic techs and came back with a small envelope. He scraped the sediment from Kendra’s sleeve into it. “I’ll also make sure they take a close look at this stuff left in the truck.”

  “Good.” Kendra moved around to the driver’s side door and pulled it open. She’d noticed when she’d watched the forensic team at work that the interior was empty of ATM or cash-register receipts that would help point the way home. Damn, that would have been too lucky. Oh well, the water might have destroyed them anyway.

  She shined her flashlight beam onto the dashboard. The vehicle ID number had been crudely removed, as if pried off by a screwdriver.

  “The VIN has also been removed from the inner wheel arch and the radiator support bracket,” Venable said. “They knew right where to go. It’ll slow us down, but if the car has ever been serviced in a garage, there’s still a good chance we’ll be able to track it down.”

  “There isn’t much of anything here.” Kendra pointed to the backseat. “Except that those rear seatbacks were folded forward to transport whatever it was in the trunk. The fabric was split by something heavy, something that also crossed the rear passenger compartment and pressed against the back of these front seats.” She bit her lip. “I wish I knew what the hell it was. Not a bicycle. Not bookshelves. Not shipping cartons. I just can’t tell.”

  Venable smiled.

  Kendra glared at him. “Am I amusing you?”

  “I’m amused that you could get so angry at yourself for being unable to immediately ascertain any great meaning from a few stray scuffs. It’s obviously a feeling you’re not accustomed to.”

  “I’m very accustomed to it. I see things every day I don’t totally understand. When it happens, I immediately get on the Web or talk to someone until I do understand. But now I’m frustrated because there’s nothing I can do to immediately figure out what those marks mean. And it’s even more frustrating to think that they could somehow help me to find Eve.”

  “Odds are that they wouldn’t,” Venable said. “You said yourself they could have been left a couple weeks ago.”

  “But if they’re irrelevant, I’d like to know.”

  “I just remembered something that one of the FBI guys who was familiar with your work told me. Is it true you cracked a case based on the amount of starch you noticed on a man’s shirt collar?”

  She nodded. “Santa Monica last year. But a malfunctioning treadmill actually had a larger role in cracking the case.”

  “A malfunctioning treadmill? Okay, now I may have to requisition that case file.”

  “Enjoy.” Kendra shined her flashlight across the car’s instrument panel. “Can someone get me power to this console?”

  “I’m sure they’ll be doing that back in the garage. I can give you the address if you want to go over there later today and—”

  “I don’t want to wait that long. Surely someone here has a jump starter.”

  Venable motioned up the embankment where two police cars’ flashers were playing against the rapidly encroaching fog. “I’m sure one of those cops can help you out.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep looking here while you go ask them.”

  His brows rose. “I wasn’t volunteering.”

  “I’ll keep looking here,” she repeated pointedly.

  “That FBI agent also told me you had a reputation for being a pain in the ass.” He smiled and started up the embankment. “It so happens I’m known to have the same reputation.”

  “It just shows you have initiative.”

  “If you say so.”

  * * *

  LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES later, Kendra watched the car’s illuminated instrument panel flicker to life. The hood was open, and despite initial doubts that the car’s recently submerged electrical system would respond, the operation was a success.

  Venable walked around from the engine compartment, where one of the forensics experts was high-fiving the police officer who had supplied the five-hundred-amp jump starter. “Now what?” Venable asked Kendra. “There’s no GPS unit, so there’s no history to draw from. Was it worth all this just to get an odometer reading?”

  Kendra didn’t answer, her eyes narrowed on the car stereo’s display, and pushed a button. Then another. And another. And another. And another after that.

  She pulled out her phone and tapped furiously on the keypad. After a few seconds, she looked up at Venable. “This car was in southwest Colorado.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Doane lived in Goldfork, but that’s in the northern part of the state. You’re off by a few hundred miles.”

  “Do you know where Mineral County is?”

  Venable shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”

  “Neither did I until about twenty seconds ago.” She held up her phone, which had a map on the display screen.

  Venable studied it. “How did you get this?”

  “I looked at the radio-station presets and did a Google search of all of them together. This is the only area that has six major stations with these same frequencies.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think Doane has any known associates down there, but we’ll look into it.”


  “Good.” Kendra stepped away from the car and thought for a moment. “So will I.”

  Gwinnett Hospital

  “HI, WHAT DO YOU MEAN worrying me? This is the third time tonight I came in to see you, and you wouldn’t wake up.” Margaret plopped down in the chair beside Jane’s bed. “I was all happy to see you out of that hospital in San Juan and mending, and you decide to have a relapse. Are you trying to give me a guilt trip?”

  “Stop right there.” Jane scowled at her. “I just got that line from Joe, and I’ve had enough. I didn’t want to come here, and now they’re threatening to keep me here for three days. I’m not going to put up with it. It’s just a minor infection.”

  “Which you wouldn’t have contracted if you’d rested and let yourself heal.”

  “That’s what Joe said. And those doctors. To hell with all of them. I couldn’t have done anything else.”

  “I know you couldn’t,” Margaret said quietly. “But it’s a little different now. That’s a nasty infection, and if you don’t get over it quickly then you’re going to distract everyone around you who is searching for Eve. You don’t want to do that.”

  “I’ll get over it,” Jane said. “It’s just some freaky bug that—”

  “Do you want to cut down the chances of Eve’s being found because it’s not you who finds her?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you crazy?”

  “It’s been suggested a few times.” Margaret grinned. “But no one can prove it.” Her smile faded. “I’m just saying you’re being selfish. I’d probably be the same way, but that doesn’t make it smarter or less self-serving. You’re in everyone’s way right now.”

  “Damn you.” Jane’s hands closed into fists. “Get out of here, Margaret.”

  “That’s the fever talking.”

  “That’s me, wanting to punch you.” She glared at Margaret. The girl was sitting there, her face glowing and her eyes shining with that gentle, shrewd, almost loving, understanding. But Jane didn’t want to be understood; she wanted out of there. And she had a dreadful feeling that she was wrong and Margaret was right. “I can’t stay here.”

  “You’ve already made the decision.” Margaret leaned back in the chair. “You’re too intelligent to do anything stupid that might hurt Eve just because you want your way. I’ll call Joe and tell him that you’ve thought about it, and you’ll stay here until they release you.”

  “I’ll make my own calls,” Jane said. “And I’m not the only one who likes to have her own way.”

  “True.” Margaret chuckled. “But I don’t have an infection or fever or any of those annoying things. But I’ll stay out of your way for a while so that I won’t irritate you. This must be my night for avoiding confrontations. I promised Joe I wouldn’t stick around and risk arguing with Kendra Michaels.”

  “I can see that happening,” Jane said dryly. “She’s a sharp scalpel, and you’re one of those water wands that sense belowground springs. Did she find out anything from the submerged car?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t wait to find out after I found out you were on the way to the hospital.” Her head tilted. “See, you were already interfering then. It’s good you decided that you weren’t going to do it any longer.”

  “Stop rubbing it in. Lying here, not able to—I’m out of here as soon as I get the okay.” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “It’s going to kill me.”

  “I know,” Margaret said softly. “Will it help you to know that I’m not just going to be around holding your hand? You can’t go on the hunt, but I’ll do it for you. I’m leaving your beautiful lake to see what I can find on my own.”

  “No, it doesn’t make me feel better. I don’t want you wandering off and getting yourself hurt or killed.”

  “It was going to happen anyway. You said that you’d let me help you.”

  “Help. I was going to be there to—”

  “Take care of me?” Margaret’s eyes were sparkling with humor. “Jane, I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a toddler.” She got to her feet. “And deep in your heart, you’re glad to have a surrogate while these good people are keeping you prisoner.” She headed for the door. “I’ll call you every now and then and let you know what’s happening with me. If you want to keep yourself busy, you should find some way to research or find—”

  “Stop telling me what to do,” Jane said. “Look, can I talk you out of this? Is there any way?”

  “Not a chance.”

  She meant it, Jane realized. She had seen how determined Margaret could be. “Then I’ll stop trying to do it. But you’d better call me, dammit.”

  “Or you’ll worry yourself into another fever spike. I was only trying to keep you from being too on edge. I’ve already arranged for a safety wall and distraction, but you need to keep your mind working so that you’ll feel useful and—”

  Jane frowned. “Safety wall?”

  “To keep you from changing your mind and trying to come rescue me as well as Eve.” She stopped at the door. “Good-bye, Jane. Heal quickly.”

  “You bet I will.” She paused. “And you’re right, I must not be a very good person because I do want someone, anyone, to move ahead with searching for Eve while I’m stuck here.” She moistened her lips. “But you have to be careful. Don’t you dare do anything that would get you hurt.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” She turned to leave.

  “Margaret.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” She was silent a moment. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. You’re a very special person.”

  “That goes without saying. But it’s nice to be appreciated in a way other than the obvious.” Margaret laughed and left the room.

  Jane lay there gazing at the door. She was still clenching her fists, and she forced herself to relax them. As Margaret had said, she had made her decision, and she had to do what she could to get well as soon as possible. Keeping her temperature sky-high because she was upset didn’t fall in that perimeter.

  Control frustration.

  Block the thought of Eve.

  Neither of those things would be easy.

  One of them would prove impossible.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Okay, call Joe and tell him that she was calmer now and would try to obey the doctor’s mandate. She had been rude and completely rebellious before he had left.

  She was still rebellious. It wasn’t fair that everyone around her was going to be able to go into action while she stayed in this hospital and pampered herself.

  She took a deep breath. She could feel the heat and weakness attacking again.

  Keep busy. See if she could find something worthwhile to do for Eve. As Joe, ask Venable, go over all the leads they had and see if she could find a way to do that.

  She reached for her phone and dialed Joe.

  * * *

  WHAT THE HELL WAS Seth Caleb doing here?

  And he was there, Jane thought drowsily. It wasn’t the fever. He was sitting across the room in a chair by the door. She could feel him in the darkness.

  But it wasn’t totally dark. She could see the light pouring through the door from the hall picking up the threads of silver in his dark hair.

  And she could feel the vibrance, the tension that was only slightly masked by that lazy indolence he adopted on occasion. She was still half-asleep but that tension was reaching out and touching her, stirring her.

  “You’re awake,” Seth Caleb said. “I tried not to wake you.” He chuckled. “No, that’s not true. I wasn’t careful at all. I was getting bored, and I wanted you awake to entertain me.”

  “What are you doing here, Caleb?” She lifted her hand to brush the hair away from her forehead. Her head was no longer hot. The fever must be dissipating, thank God. “When I opened my eyes and saw you, I thought I was back in that hospital in San Juan…”

  “Oh, that night you were shot and I stayed with you after you came out of surgery to guard yo
u?” He turned on the lamp on the table beside his chair, and a soft light flooded the room. “That was memorable for me, too. I behaved with exemplary restraint. Don’t you think so?”

  “No. I don’t remember any restraint.” She watched him come toward her. Grace. Power. Darkness. Sexuality. She had always thought Seth Caleb was the sexiest man she had ever met. His face, his dark eyes that seemed to be almost hypnotic. But that power and sexual magnetism also brought with it a disturbing wariness. She had always been aware of that danger below the surface during the years she had known him. Eve had even warned her about him, though at one point that power and violence had saved Joe. But Jane had still called on him to help her take her critically ill dog, Toby, to an experimental research facility on an island in the Caribbean. He had given her support and strength during that hideous time as well as the period when she had been in the hospital with that bullet wound inflicted by Blick. That didn’t mean she trusted him. He’d be the first one to admit that he was capable of manipulating any situation to suit himself and get what he wanted. And he had not been hesitant to tell her that what he wanted was a sexual liaison with her. “You tried to seduce me when I was barely out of the anesthetic.”

  “Not really. I only offered you a little mental stimulation that would have brought you extreme pleasure. I knew that you’d resent me later even if you enjoyed it, so I backed off. It wouldn’t have been worth it.” He was standing by the bed now, and she could see him more clearly … and feel that automatic tensing, melting, that was always a part of her response to him. “I decided a gradual assault would be better and let you become accustomed to the idea.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “But if you persist in landing yourself in the hospital, I may have to get more aggressive. I’m very impatient.”

  “What are you doing here?” She moved her cheek to avoid his touch. “You were at General Tarther’s house in Virginia.”

  “Which became an exercise in futility. I told you I’d go there to guard him.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately, he was murdered before I even arrived. You heard about that, I assume?”

  “Yes, Venable’s agent he had guarding the general called him and reported that the general had been shot. We expected to hear from you.”