Shattered Mirror

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Shattered Mirror Page 3

by Iris Johansen


  “But she couldn’t. Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll try to find out. Done? Go brush your teeth.”

  He nodded and jumped off the stool, his gaze still on the black velvet cover on the skull. “May I see her?”

  Caught. Eve gazed at him in a quandary. She’d wanted to avoid this. “You may want to wait until I get a little farther along. She was in a fire, and it’s a bit—it’s not like some others you’ve seen.”

  “I want to see her. May I?”

  She nodded. She had never tried to hide what she did and couldn’t start now. She went over to the worktable. “Sure. Come and meet her. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I won’t.” He followed her and rested his arms on her worktable. “Are you going to give her a name like you usually do?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you haven’t given her a name yet?”

  “Not yet.” She pulled off the black velvet cloth, her gaze narrowed on his face to gauge his reaction. “I haven’t had time to think about it.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. No fear. No horror. Only intense interest and something else … “I told you that it wasn’t the same.”

  “None of them are the same.” He was reaching out to gently touch that blackened cheekbone. “She never wanted to be the same…” His finger went to the gaping hole in the back of the skull. “It’s gone, Mama. Why?”

  How to delicately explain that her brain had exploded and blown away the skull? No delicate way. Don’t explain. Generalize.

  “It was the fire, Michael. This kind of thing happens very often when there’s a fire.”

  “But you’ll fix it?”

  “Yes, I’ll fix it.”

  “You’ll fix everything.” His gaze shifted from the skull to Eve’s face. “I think she’ll be beautiful, Mama.”

  “So do I.” She gave him a swat. “Now go brush your teeth. You have to be out of here in five minutes.”

  “Okay.” He was hurrying across the room, but he stopped as he started down the hall. “Sylvie.”

  She halted in the act of replacing the cloth. “What?”

  “You should call her Sylvie.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom.

  * * *

  Eve’s phone rang when she had barely started the initial measuring on the reconstruction.

  Cara.

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to have to delay coming,” she said when she answered. “Michael was over the moon when I told him.”

  “No, I still haven’t got the exact date, but I think it will be next week, if that’s okay,” Cara said. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” She hesitated, then burst out, “Have you heard from Jock?”

  Jock Gavin. Cara hadn’t spoken about him the last few times she’d called, but Eve had known he was always on her mind. Cara’s bond with Jock had started when she was only eleven, and he had saved her life. They had both led tortured lives filled with fear and loneliness and somehow when they’d come together, the child and the young man had become best friends, almost soul mates. But that did not mean that the relationship had been without friction. “No, not since last Christmas when he came here for that one day. Why? Haven’t you heard from him?”

  “No.” Then she said in a rush, “Three months. Not for three months. He doesn’t answer my calls or my emails. What does he think he’s doing? Doesn’t he know I worry about him?”

  “I can see how you’d be concerned. But you know that no one can take care of himself better than Jock.”

  “How am I supposed to know that? Whenever MacDuff doesn’t need him, he’s climbing mountains or going off on round-the-world cruises or trekking off with one of his CIA buddies and trying to get himself shot.”

  “He’s restless,” Eve said soothingly. “MacDuff may be his best friend, but they have separate lives. MacDuff is Laird of MacDuff’s Run and is becoming occupied with all that goes with it. Jock will always be there for him, but he’s exploring other avenues.”

  “Away from me,” Cara said jerkily. “He won’t talk to me.”

  Eve could sense the hurt, but she felt helpless to heal it. “That’s not like Jock, and you know it.” She paused, then probed. “Something’s behind it?”

  Cara was silent. “He’s angry with me.”

  There it was. “Why?”

  “I told him that I’d cleared all of July to spend the month with my grandfather in New Orleans.”

  No wonder he’d gone ballistic. Eve was upset herself. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “I was going to do it next week. I knew you wouldn’t like it, and I wanted to tell you face-to-face.”

  “No, I don’t like it. Imagine that. Sergai Kaskov is head of one of the most powerful Mafia families in Moscow. I don’t want you anywhere near him whether or not he’s your grandfather. Just being around him is dangerous for you.”

  “I made him a promise, Eve,” she said quietly. “He didn’t ask much considering what he gave me in return. He didn’t have to save you when you were carrying Michael and fighting that poison. But he did it, and you both lived. I barely knew him, but when I asked, he gave that to me.”

  It was hard to argue with her when she brought up that terrifying period in both their lives. Eve had been given a deadly poison by Kaskov’s daughter, and he’d given her the antidote that had saved both her life and Michael’s. “In exchange for one month with you every single year. That’s not all that generous.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said softly. “We have Michael. I have you, Eve. What’s one month?”

  “Ask Jock,” Eve said grimly. “He thinks you could be the target of rival Mafia families, or that Kaskov might hurt you himself. When you started these damn visits four years ago, he asked me to stop you. Jock never asks anything of anyone. Do you think it didn’t mean something to him?”

  “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “It didn’t do any good anyway. You wouldn’t listen to me. You’ve visited with Kaskov for the last three years. And now you have another one coming up? How long is this supposed to go on?”

  “I don’t know. I thought he’d get bored with me. It’s not as if we interact very much. He conducts his business, and we eat meals together. I play for him in the evening. That’s all that goes on.”

  “Evidently he’s not bored if he continues to set up these visits.”

  “No.” She paused. “It’s the music. He loves my music. And he likes the idea that someone from his family is able to play well.”

  “Play well? You know that you’re extraordinary, and I don’t like the idea of Kaskov basking in your glory.”

  “Glory? It’s all about the music, Eve.”

  “Maybe not to him,” she said. “And it can’t go on. Jock isn’t going to permit it. You do know that during every visit, Jock was nearby monitoring what was going on?”

  “He told me that he’d be there. I told him not to do it.”

  “You were afraid that one of your grandfather’s goons might decide to take Jock out? Does that tell you anything?”

  “You know I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

  “It’s Jock who wouldn’t have let it happen,” Eve said dryly. “No one has much of a chance against Jock Gavin. But he may be through with that holding pattern if he’s that angry with you, Cara.”

  “If he’d just let me talk to him, I can make it right.”

  “Maybe not this. Perhaps he’s taking a step back to make a statement.”

  “You mean to punish me? I can’t believe he’d do that,” she said unevenly. “He knows how much he can hurt me. He’s my best friend. He’s everything.”

  “Then think about how much these visits have been hurting him, where he has to stand by and do nothing.”

  “I have to keep my promise.”

  Stubborn, and so damn honorable that Eve wanted to shake her. “Then you should be prepared for an explosion in the near future.”

  “No
t if I can talk to him. I will talk to him. I called Jane and asked her to tell him to call me. If that doesn’t work, I’ll call MacDuff. He loves MacDuff. He listens to him.”

  “And you called me. You’re pulling out all the stops.” She knew how determined Cara could be. If something was important to her, then she would keep on fighting until she got her way. And there was no one more important to her than Jock Gavin. “Think about it, Cara. There’s such a thing as compromise.”

  “I did compromise. Only one month, Eve. And Michael is alive, and so are you.” She drew a deep breath. “You and Joe took me into your home and your lives, then Michael came along, and he was … magic. Do you know what that means to me? Maybe you could have found another way to save yourself and Michael, but I only saw one way. Don’t be mad at me because I took it.”

  “I was never angry with you.” Eve was unbearably touched. “Joe and I love you. You’re a member of our family now. I just want you to stop trying to take care of all of us and start living a good life. You worry about Kaskov and Jock and Michael, Joe, and me. And you work so hard on your music at that school. Do you even have any friends there?”

  “Not much time. Lessons and practice. They keep us pretty busy.”

  “That’s what you’ve been telling me for years.”

  “It’s true.” She added, “But you’ll be glad to know I’ve made one friend this quarter. Housing Admin gave me a roommate because the residence halls were overcrowded. They’ve even been sending us around to different events together.”

  “What instrument?”

  “No instrument. She’s a soprano. Wonderful range.”

  “Encouraging. Now tell me you do something together that doesn’t involve music.”

  “We went ice-skating two weeks ago.”

  “That’s a start. What’s her name?”

  “Darcy Nichols. She’s a couple years older and she’s nothing like me. Blond, blue-eyed, so gorgeous that people stop on the street and look at her. Way more sophisticated than I’ll probably ever be. She’s smart, funny, and she used to be on some Disney show when she was a kid. It ran for years. Golden Days. Did you ever see it?”

  “No, but then I was a little too busy for Disney.”

  “Me, too. But I think she was pretty famous while the show was running. Anyway, she never acts as if it was a big deal. She kind of pokes fun at herself. Let’s see, what else can I tell you about her … Oh, she likes swimming and movies and rock stars. Is that good enough for you, Eve?”

  “If it’s good enough for you. Do you like her?”

  “I do like her. She works hard, she’s honest.” She paused, then said slowly, “At first, I wasn’t sure about her. She kind of took my breath away. She takes everyone’s breath away. She kind of … sparkles. She operates at top speed, and she’s curious about everything around her. I guess I was a little intimidated.”

  “Not you.”

  “She was different. But, as I got to know her, I realized she might not be all that different. I think she may be a lot like me.”

  “In what way?”

  She was silent. “She has nightmares, too.”

  Eve didn’t speak for an instant. Cara hadn’t mentioned those nightmares for a long time. When a small child she had been hunted by a cartel enforcer who had killed her sister and the woman who had raised her. It was no wonder that she’d been plagued by nightmares. Eve had hoped that their frequency had lessened after Cara had come to them. “Not something I’d want to have in common. Do you still have them?”

  “Sometimes. Not often.” She added, “I’m fine, Eve. I get better all the time. Now who’s worrying?”

  “I just want you to have all the things you missed while you were on the run.”

  “You’ve given me everything. I have the music. I have people who care about me. What else is there?” She changed the subject. “And everyone probably has nightmares. I just didn’t know because I never had a roommate before. But I woke up several times in the past couple months when I heard her crying out.”

  “Did you ever talk to her about them?”

  “No, that would have been an intrusion. She has a right to her privacy.”

  “But you’re tempted.”

  “I had my friend, Elena, to help me through my nightmares while I was on the run. Darcy seems to have no one. I think she’s … hurting. Sometimes it hurts me to see her…”

  That’s all Cara needed, Eve thought, a roommate with emotional problems that she’d struggle to solve. But didn’t everyone try to solve the problems of the people they cared about? It was part of life. “Then you’ll do whatever you have to do. You have great instincts.”

  “Do I? You and Jock don’t always seem to agree with them.” She chuckled. “But even when you shoot me down, you do it with infinite kindness.” She changed the subject. “So it’s okay if I come home next week? If it’s more convenient, I might be able to change my classes and come this week instead.”

  Eve’s glance shifted to the skull in front of her. Talking to Cara had brought home to her that life was difficult and filled with problems, but with effort they had a chance of being solved. The ugliness that had been done to this young woman and the silent threat of her being deposited on Eve’s doorstep might not be as easy to resolve. She was once more feeling that sudden sense of urgency again. “No, next week is just fine, Cara. No hurry.”

  After she had hung up the phone, she sat there an instant, looking at the ruin of that scorched and blackened face. What had driven this monster to try to destroy whatever beauty of form and soul this woman had possessed? “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “He couldn’t do what he intended to do. We won’t let him win.” Then she picked up her measuring device again. “I’ll try to get through this boring stuff quickly, but it has to be done. Then we can get down to bringing you back to the way you should be, Sylvie…”

  CARNEGIE RESIDENCE HALL NEW YORK CITY

  “You’re going to be late,” Darcy Nichols said over her shoulder as she ran past Cara on the way to the stairs. “The bus for that Wounded Warrior Concert in Connecticut leaves in ten minutes. You know Madam Gallono will kill us if we don’t show up there on time.”

  “I won’t be late.” Cara was hurrying after her. “And if I am, all I’ll have to do is slip in behind you and no one will even notice me.” She chuckled. “You know how to grab and hold the spotlight.”

  “True.” Darcy glanced over her shoulder with a brilliant smile that had a hint of mischief. “Only a few months together, and you’ve learned how to make use of me. Everyone thinks that I’m the lightweight, and you’re so serious and dedicated, but you’ve got them all fooled.”

  “Yeah, I’m clearly a master manipulator,” Cara said as she followed Darcy down the stairs. “I wouldn’t have been late, but that call just took longer than I thought it—”

  She stopped short.

  She’d reached the turn of the stairs and come in view of the reception area below and saw the man who stood there by the desk.

  “Jock?” she whispered.

  Darcy had stopped, too, her eyes widening. “Who on earth is that?” she murmured. “My God, he’s fantastic.”

  That’s what everyone thought when they first saw Jock, Cara thought. Fair hair, tan, perfect, almost Grecian features, shimmering gray eyes. Strength and grace and that quiet stillness that hid so much. When she had first seen him when she was much younger, she had thought he looked like the prince from a fairy tale. These days she hardly noticed what he looked like on the outside because there was so much inside. But this was Darcy’s first sight of him, and she was getting the full impact.

  “That’s my friend, Jock Gavin,” Cara said.

  “And you never told me about him? Introduce me. I believe I may be in lust.”

  “You don’t have time.” Cara was meeting Jock’s eyes as she finished walking slowly down the stairs. Her heart was plunging. Fear. She was so afraid of what was to come. No smile. And those gray eyes wer
e cold. “You have a bus to catch, Darcy.”

  “So do you.”

  “I’ll get there some other way.”

  “And you want me out of here,” Darcy said shrewdly. “I would, too, if I were you. I should have known. You’re such a workaholic, it would take someone like that to get you to sit up and take notice.” She smiled and gave Cara’s arm a quick squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover for you. You were joking, but I really can make black look white or gold or whatever. Just make sure you get there. See you in Connecticut.” Then she was dashing across the reception area and out the front door.

  Cara braced herself, then was walking to the reception desk toward Jock. “You didn’t have to come to see me. A phone call would have done the trick. Or even an email. All I wanted to know was that you were alive and well. Would that have been too much?”

  “Aye,” he said coldly, his slight Scottish accent making the word even more clipped. “The way I was feeling, I had to block you out entirely. I couldn’t take any more, Cara.”

  “You can take anything. I know how strong you are.” Even to herself her voice sounded uneven. She paused, then forced herself to say the words she’d been preparing. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, then that’s different. But you shouldn’t have just walked away from me. You’re important to me. You’re my best friend. You should have known I’d come after you. That’s all I wanted to say to you if you’d answered my calls.” His face was so hard, but she forced herself to go on. “But you didn’t, and that’s an answer in itself, isn’t it?” She couldn’t take this any longer. She was hurting too much. She walked past him toward the front door. “All you had to do was make me understand. Evidently, that’s what you came to do. Thanks for making it clear. Good-bye, Jock.”

  His hand was on her arm. “You’re not going anywhere. I came here to talk to you. I’m going to do it.”

  She shook her head. “I have to get to Connecticut. I have a concert. It’s an obligation.”

  His lips twisted. “And I know how you feel about obligations.” He took her violin case. “I hired a limo for the day. I knew this wasn’t going to be a quick fix, and your place here in this residency is like a nunnery. I’ll drive you to your ‘obligation.’” He nudged her toward the gray limo at the curb. “Just give the driver the address, then lean back and stop looking at me like that. I’ve had enough for right now.”

 

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