16 Taking Eve

by Iris Johansen

  He was surprised he’d had to nudge Venable to explore the Eve Duncan possibility. The CIA agent not only knew Duncan but liked her. Perhaps he was rejecting the idea because he did care about her and didn’t want to accept the blame for turning Doane loose on her. Foolish. You couldn’t ever allow feelings to interfere if you wanted to stay alive.

  He opened the drawer of the desk, drew out the folder he always kept handy, and flipped it open. Eve Duncan’s photo and dossier were front and center. The dossier was short and concise. Duncan was illegitimate and raised in the slums of Atlanta, Georgia. She’d been raised by a mother who hadn’t known or cared who Eve’s father could be and who’d been hooked on drugs for most of Eve’s childhood. That hadn’t stopped Eve from becoming one of the foremost forensic sculptors in the world and in demand by every law-enforcement authority in the U.S. Her career had been motivated by the kidnapping and murder of her daughter, Bonnie, when the child was only seven years old. She had only recently discovered the child’s body and the person responsible for her abduction and death.

  And Zander could see in her face the pain and endurance that had been the result of that agonizing search. Eve Duncan was not a beautiful woman, but her features were interesting, and her hazel eyes gazed out of the photo with directness and boldness as if to challenge the world.

  But she did not have to fight that world alone. She might be queen of her particular world, but she had two knights who were always on guard.

  He had placed two other photos and brief dossiers on either side of Eve Duncan’s. Joe Quinn, her lover, whose square face and tea-colored eyes reflected both strength and intelligence, and Jane MacGuire, Eve’s adopted daughter, who was far more beautiful than Eve and reputedly just as strong. It was always Zander’s procedure to surround the target with the paths to get to them so that he could study the possibilities. In this case, Quinn and MacGuire could be either the guardians to protect Eve Duncan or Doane’s means to the end.

  If Doane had searched deep enough to find Eve Duncan.

  There was a possibility he was wrong, and Doane hadn’t made the connection. He might be coming direct to him. Oh well, it was possible he would know as soon as Venable got into Doane’s house and looked around. If Doane was on the move, he must have a plan, and he might deliberately leave clues to taunt him. No one could say Doane was entirely sane, but then neither was he. Madness was all in the eye of the beholder.

  He stared thoughtfully at the glimpse of mountains he could see beyond the French doors. It would be a long time before he’d see those mountains again. Perhaps never. The Doane problem might make it unsafe for him to chance staying here any longer. He had a twinge of regret before he shrugged it off. He had been here too long anyway. It would only have been a matter of weeks or months before it was time for him to move on. Doane’s flit had only escalated the action. He had a keen sense of self-preservation, and it was never safe for him to forget who and what he was. He had only stayed alive this long by recognizing that he was always a target. Someday, he would grow tired and no longer care, but that day had not yet come.

  He got to his feet and moved toward the door. “Stang. Pack up all the records and destroy the computers. Move the money to the alternate bank accounts. I want it done by the end of the day. I’m leaving Canada.”

  “What?” Stang whirled to face him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just time I faded away … and cut all ties. Do it.”

  Stang opened his lips to protest, then closed them again. “Yes, sir. Whatever you say.” He left the library.

  Zander strolled back to the desk as the door closed behind Stang. He looked down at the faces on the dossiers. The premonition was growing stronger by the moment that Doane might have probed deep enough to reveal a possible vulnerability in Eve Duncan.

  No proof.

  But he would have been a dead man a dozen times over if he had relied on proof instead of instinct.

  Joe Quinn and Jane MacGuire. They were the guardians at the gates of the castle that was Eve Duncan. Strong and competent guardians. Joe Quinn was particularly formidable, a detective with the Atlanta Police Department, ex-SEAL, ex-FBI. Totally devoted to Eve. Jane MacGuire was an up-and-coming artist, but she had been trained by Joe Quinn, and she, too, was devoted to Eve, who was more best friend than parent to her. She had been a street kid until she was ten years old, and she and Eve had found each other. The reports on her were that her ingrained toughness was still present and had become a force with which to be reckoned since she had left college.

  Yes, Quinn and MacGuire should be able to keep Eve Duncan safe.

  As long as those guardians at the gates stayed close, alert, and on guard.

  Lake Cottage

  Atlanta, Georgia

  “I’LL BE BACK IN TWO DAYS.” Joe brought Eve close and kissed her, hard. “I have to testify tomorrow afternoon in Miami, a cross-examination the next morning, then I’m out of there. I promise.”

  “Maybe.” Eve made a face. “How many times have you been tripped up by lawyers? They might bring in another witness and put you on hold.” She kissed him again and stepped back. He was frowning, and she had sensed an edginess since he’d walked into the cottage for lunch. “It’s okay, Joe. It’s not as if I won’t have company. You know that Jane will be flying in from London tonight.”

  “Yeah, I know. It makes me feel better but I should—”

  “You should do exactly what you’re doing. Jane and I can handle everything here on the home front. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I know better than to fight the system. And I don’t like drug dealers. I want Martinez to be put away for a long time.”

  “Me, too. We’ve been working on pinning this drug deal on him for two years. And hopefully he’ll run into a rival drug king in jail who will stick a knife in him and save the prison system trouble and money,” Joe said grimly. “What time does Jane come in?”

  “Eight.” She opened the door and walked out with him on to the porch. “And she says this is going to be a long, long visit, so you won’t miss her. We’ll both meet your plane when you come back.” She kissed him again. “So hurry and get through with Martinez, dammit.”

  He started down the stairs, then stopped and turned back to look at her. “I don’t want to do this.”

  She frowned. “Joe, you’re being weird. What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to leave you.”

  “And that’s all?”

  He shrugged. “I had a call from Venable about an hour ago.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing. He said that he heard about the Martinez case and was glad that we were going to nail the bastard at last.”

  “Did he have something to do with the case?”

  “He’s CIA. Not DEA. Marginally, perhaps. Nothing direct.”

  “So why did he call?”

  “That’s what I’m asking myself. After he finished talking about the Martinez case, he asked about me and you and Jane. It was more like a casual social call.” He added grimly, “And Venable is never either casual or social. He always has a reason.”

  “But this time it appears to have more to do with you and Martinez than me. So why be worried about me? Venable may be showing up at the courthouse down at Miami.”

  “I doubt it. It sounded … like an excuse. I may call him back.”

  “Joe.”

  “Okay, I’m going. Since you’re obviously trying to get rid of me.”

  “Because it’s your job.” She smiled. “And you’d only get in my way. I’ve got to try to finish Ryan’s reconstruction before I go pick up Jane. Heaven knows, I won’t have time once she gets here. She’s already set up visits with half her friends from school, and it seems I’m included in those plans.”

  “Of course you are. You’re her best friend.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled brilliantly. “Nice, isn’t it?”

  “When it doesn’t get in the way of your work.”r />
  “I can live with it. She can be pretty obsessive about her own work. She jokes about being a starving artist, but she’d never be anything else. It’s usually a good balance.” She watched him walk down the steps. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the airport?”

  “No, I’m meeting the captain at the precinct, and she’s giving me a final briefing. I’ll leave the car at the airport.” He grinned. “But I’ll still expect my two favorite women to meet that plane. I’ll get someone to pick up the car.”

  “We’ll be there.” She watched him get into the jeep. “Call me when you get settled.”

  He nodded as he started the car. “I’ll probably be able to talk to Jane by that time. It will—” He broke off, his expression suddenly serious. “Be careful.”

  “Joe…” She shook her head. “You’re the one taking a trip to face the big bad drug mogul. Jane and I are going to stay here and catch up on what we’ve missed.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He started to back out of the driveway. “Just … be careful.”

  “Right.” She watched him drive down the road until he went around the bend. She didn’t want to let him go. She had made fun of his unusual concern, but neither of them ever took the love between them for granted. Maybe he sensed something wrong, something that would endanger that bond. You couldn’t live your life worrying because you felt things weren’t right. That wouldn’t be logical or smart. Yet you couldn’t ignore those feelings either.

  She shivered suddenly and turned to go back into the house. Had Joe’s uneasiness been contagious, or was she feeling that same sense of something … not right?

  Forget it. She had work to do.

  She strode over to the dais, where her current reconstruction was displayed.

  “We have to finish you right away, Ryan. Jane is coming,” she murmured. She always gave her skulls a name so that she could maintain a connection that would help her with the reconstruction. Her hands moved gently, sculpting, smoothing. She felt the same calming closeness as she usually did when working at bringing these lost ones back to the world that had abandoned them. It was as if their souls were trying to reach her, tell her, help her. “No disrespect. We did the big work last night and this morning. Just a little tidying up, then I’ll add the eyes…”

  She had no idea who this little boy, who had been sent to her by the Bloomington Police Department, actually was. She estimated he was nine years old. He had been unearthed in a grave in a construction site, and no one had been able to offer a clue to his identity. Hopefully, once the photos were taken of the completed reconstruction, he would be identified.

  And so would his murderer.

  Ryan would go home.

  And hopefully the person who had shoved him into that grave would go straight to hell.

  “Brown eyes, Ryan…” She always used brown because they were more common than lighter shades. She carefully put the glass eyes into the orbits. “What a handsome little boy you are…”

  Birmingham, Alabama

  “WE’RE GETTING CLOSE, KEVIN,” Doane murmured, turning on his lights as he got on the freeway. “The next state. I’ll have to stop once we’re over the border and steal a license plate. Venable will know that I’ve left Colorado by now. It wouldn’t be smart to let him know where we’re heading, would it? You’d have probably changed the plate before now. And once we reach the lake cottage, I’ll definitely have to change cars. Or maybe a truck … You were always better at this than I was.” He turned on his computer on the seat beside him. “But I’m trying, Kevin. I worked it all out. I won’t let you down.” He typed in a quick e-mail to Blick on the computer. “In place?”

  No answer.

  Doane could feel a trace of panic surge through him. “It will be okay, Kevin. It takes time. Blick won’t let us down. We’ve been planning this for months. I’ve told him exactly what to do.”

  His computer suddenly pinged. Blick.

  “In place.”

  Relief flooded Doane. “You see, I told you. He’s steady. He’ll do the job,” he murmured as he got on the freeway. “I just have to keep him from killing her…”

  Lake Cottage

  EVE GLANCED AT THE CLOCK across the room—6:10 P.M.

  Time to shower and head for the airport.

  She wiped the clay from her hands on the cloth she kept on the worktable beside the reconstruction. “Okay, Ryan. That’s as good as I can do. No, as good as we can do. You helped a lot.” Coffee, first. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since lunch, and she didn’t know how long it would be before Jane got out of Customs.

  She popped in a Southern Pecan K-cup in her Keurig. She didn’t need anything stronger, and she liked the smell of the brew. These single-cup coffeemakers were a miracle on the par with—

  Her cell phone rang. Jane.

  “Don’t tell me your flight got in early. I haven’t left the cottage yet.”

  “No, I’m in San Juan.”

  Eve stiffened with shock. “What?”

  “I know. I meant to call you earlier, but there was an emergency, and I had to arrange to leave London. I got a lift on a private jet.”

  “Why on earth?”

  “Toby. My dog’s sick, Eve.” Her voice was shaking. “The vet in London didn’t know what was wrong. Toby’s just getting weaker and weaker. The vet can’t pin it down, and nothing he’s tried has helped. None of the tests are conclusive. He suggested I put him to sleep. I told him to go to hell.”

  “I can see you doing that.” Toby was Jane’s beloved pet, half-dog, half-wolf, and totally endearing. Eve had taken care of Toby herself when Jane had been unable to have her dog with her, and she loved him almost as much as Jane did. “Couldn’t you go to another vet?”

  “Eldridge is the best. He’s just giving up too easily. I won’t give up. So we practically smuggled Toby out of London to avoid all the red tape and took off.”

  “Toby’s not a young dog any longer, Jane,” she said gently. “You’ve had him since you were just a kid yourself.”

  “That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have his chance.” Jane paused. “We’re on our way to Summer Island. I’m taking him to Sarah Logan. I just hope he’s alive when I get there.”

  “You’re taking him to the island? Did you call Sarah?”

  “Yes, she said that she couldn’t promise miracles, but they have some terrific vets and a few extraordinary consultants who might be able to help.” She added, “Miracles. You know me, Eve. I’m not one to trust in miracles, and I had a hard time believing that the experimental research center Sarah and her husband set up on that island could be all that she promised it to be.”

  “Sarah always tells the truth.”

  “But dogs that are able to heal and extend life to an undetermined span? That’s pretty hard to swallow.”

  “Sarah had trouble herself until she saw the effects on her golden retriever, Monty. She said he acts like a five-year-old, and he’s Toby’s father.”

  “I don’t care about any sudden rejuvenation. I only want to keep Toby alive and with me for a little while longer. If Sarah’s started a clinic on that island, it’s got to be a great one.”

  “And you’re willing to close your eyes to what doesn’t strike you as reasonable and let Toby have his chance.”

  “I love him. And Toby’s so full of love. Dogs like him should live forever.” She cleared her throat. “Do you know that Sarah said that they call the dogs that they have on the island the dogs of summer? She said that dogs should always live in the summer of life. Toby is heading toward his winter, but he’s not there yet. Maybe I can hold him back.”

  “Maybe you can. Do you need me? I’ll hop on a plane and be there tomorrow.”

  “No, we’re just refueling and checking our flight plan. I want to get Toby to the island as soon as possible. The island is only a tiny speck in the middle of the Caribbean, and you’d have to fly private, too.”

  “And your point is?”

  “That
I can handle this myself. With any luck, Toby and I will be at the lake house in no time.”

  “I hope so.” She had a sudden thought. “You said we smuggled. Who helped you get Toby out of the country?”

  Silence. “Seth Caleb.”

  Eve’s hand tightened on the phone. “And?”

  “Nothing. No pound of flesh. He just showed up after I’d had the bad news from the vet and offered his services.”

  “Just out of the blue. I’m wondering how he so conveniently found out about Toby. Knowing Seth Caleb, that makes me very uneasy.”

  “But you’re always uneasy around Caleb. You’ve been that way since the day you met him.”

  “And realized he … wasn’t like other people. For God’s sake, Jane. I watched him kill a man by controlling the blood flow to his heart.”

  “The medical examiner never confirmed that happened. And Caleb saved Joe, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but he … I don’t like him around you.”

  “You’re talking as if he’s some kind of vampire. He’s no such thing. He just has a kind of … talent.”

  “And you find him fascinating.”

  “So do you.”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t deny it. “But it’s like watching a cobra weave back and forth.”

  Jane chuckled. “There’s nothing snakelike about Seth. He’s more in the panther line. Yes, if I ever do a sketch of him, I’d make him a black panther.”

  “But you’re trusting that panther to take your Toby to safety.” There was no use arguing with her. Eve had watched Seth Caleb’s effect on Jane, and it was both complicated and reckless. Most of the time, Jane realized how dangerous he could be to her and kept him at a distance. In the end, Jane would have to deal with him in her own way.

  And if that deal did not turn out happily, Eve would have to go after Caleb and take care of him herself.

  “Call me as soon as you reach the island and meet Sarah. I’ll be worried until I know about our Toby.”

  “It will be all right.” Jane’s voice had a note of desperation. “It has to be fine. I won’t have it any other way. I’ll bring him to you. Bye, Eve. I love you.” She hung up.