It scared the hell out of him.
“Joe.”
He looked up to see Christy standing before him. “That was fast. I wouldn't think you'd have time to—”
“We've got another one.” She turned off the cell phone on which she'd been talking. “Lake Lanier. Some scuba divers found a body, marked the location, and notified the authorities.”
Joe flipped the file shut and jumped to his feet. “You're sure?”
“As sure as I can be.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “She had no damn face.”
It was her!
Aldo couldn't believe it. It was a miracle.
His heart was beating hard as he gazed at the photo.
She was staring out at the world with a boldness that dared all comers. Fresh, young, and impregnable.
No, not impregnable, Cira. Not from me.
He wrote down the name.
Jane MacGuire.
Not Jane.
Cira. Cira. Cira.
He quickly copied the address on the record.
He was shaking, he realized. Trembling with delight that the moment had come. The others had been close but she was exact, perfection. There could be no doubt that this was the face he'd seen all his life and in his nightmares. He was quivering with fear that something or someone would snatch her away from him.
No, that mustn't be allowed to happen. He'd traveled too long, devoted too much time to the search, purged too many Cira pretenders.
But Jane MacGuire wasn't a pretender. She was Cira.
And she deserved to die.
D arkness.
No air.
No time.
She wasn't going to make it.
The hell she wasn't. She wasn't going to die in this tunnel. Let those other cowards give up. She'd fight until she broke free.
She'd smashed all the chains that held her captive before and she wouldn't let death make her a final captive.
Was the ground shaking?
No air.
She fell to her knees.
No!
She struggled up and lunged forward. Which way? It was too dark to—
She turned right.
“No, that's a blind alley. This way.”
He was standing in the tunnel behind her. Tall, shadowy but she knew who it was, damn him. “Get out of my way. Do you think I'd trust you?”
“There's no time to do anything else.” He held out his hand. “Come with me. I'll show you the way.”
She'd never take his hand again. Never trust him to—
She staggered down the tunnel.
“Come back!”
“The hell I will.” Her voice was only a whisper from a throat that was painfully dry.
Run.
Hurry.
Live.
But how could she live when there was no air?
“Dammit, Jane, wake up!”
She was being shaken. Eve again, she realized sluggishly. Eve afraid. Eve trying to save her from the dream that was no dream. Didn't she know that she had to stay here? It was her duty to—
“Jane!”
The tone was demanding and Jane slowly opened her lids.
Eve's face was taut with alarm.
“Hi,” Jane murmured. “Sorry . . .”
“That's not good enough.” Eve's voice was as alarmed as her expression. “I've had my fill of this.” She stood up and headed for the door. “Get on your robe and come out on the porch. We need to talk.”
“It's only a nightmare, Eve. I'm okay.”
“I know about nightmares and there's nothing okay about them. Not when they happen every night. Come out on the porch.” She didn't wait for Jane to answer.
Jane slowly sat up and shook her head to clear it. She was still logy and half-dazed and the last thing she needed was to confront Eve with a fuzzy head. She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water in her face.
That was better. . . .
Except for her lungs that were still tight and burning from the night with no air.
That would go away soon and so would the lingering panic.
She drew a deep breath, grabbed her robe from the bed, and shrugged into it as she walked down the hall toward the porch.
Eve was sitting on the swing. “At least you look awake now.” She handed her a cup of hot chocolate. “Drink it. It's chilly out here.”
“We could go inside.”
“I don't want to wake Joe. He'd think I'm exaggerating your problem. Hell, he might not even see it as a problem. He's all for patience and letting you work it out for yourself.”
“Maybe he's right.” She sipped her hot chocolate and then sat down on the top porch step. “I don't see it as a problem.”
“Well, I do. And it's up to you to convince me I'm wrong.” She lifted her cup to her lips. “By telling me what the devil you're dreaming about.”
She made a face. “Chill, Eve. It's not as if I'm suffering some deep psychological trauma that's connected with you or Joe or even the way I grew up.”
“How do I know that? How do you know that? Dreams aren't always clear and they can be interpreted in a number of different ways.”
“Yeah, by some shrink who gets paid a couple hundred dollars an hour to make dumb guesses.”
“I'm not that fond of psychoanalysis myself, but I want to know that I haven't failed you.”
Jane smiled. “For heaven's sake, you haven't failed me, Eve. You've been everything that's kind and understanding, and that wasn't easy with a hard nut like me.” She took another drink of hot chocolate. “But I should have known you'd blame yourself for something that has nothing to do with you.”
“Then show me it has nothing to do with me. Tell me about that damn dream.”
“How do you know it's the same one every time?”
“Isn't it?”
Jane was silent. “Yes.”
“At last.” Eve leaned back in the swing. “More.”
“Well, it is and it isn't. It starts out the same way, but every dream seems to take a step forward.” She looked out at the lake. “And sometimes . . . it doesn't . . . I don't know if it's really a dream.” She moistened her lips. “I know it sounds crazy but I'm there, Eve.”
“Where?”
“I'm in a tunnel or a cave. Something like that. And I'm trying to find the end, the opening, but I don't know where it is. And there's not much time. There's no air and it's getting hotter and hotter. I keep running but I'm not sure I'm going to find the way out.”
“Hell?”
She shook her head. “That would fit the bill, wouldn't it? Hot and no air and an endless chase. But this is a real tunnel. And I'm not dead, I'm alive and fighting to stay that way.”
“That's no surprise. You've been a fighter all your life.”
“Yes, I have.” She kept her gaze on the lake. “But in the dream when I remember fighting . . . it's different. They're not my memories, my battles, they're hers.” She shook her head in confusion. “I mean mine, but they're not mine. Crazy . . .”
“You're not crazy. You just need help to understand all this.”
“Yeah, and the shrink would tell me I'm trying to escape reality by climbing into someone else's shoes. Bullshit. I like my reality.”
“But you don't like those nightmares.”
“They're not so bad. I can live with them.”
“Well, I can't. Maybe if you took a sedative, you'd be too deeply asleep to have—”
Jane's head swung around. “No!”
“I don't like drugs either but it might—”
“I'm not afraid of taking a sedative. I just can't— I have to finish it.”
“What?”
“I have to get to the end of the tunnel. She'll . . . I'll die if I don't get out of there.”
“Do you know how irrational that sounds?”
“I don't care. I have to do it.” She could see Eve was about to protest and hurried on. “Look, I don't know what's happening to me but I think
. . . no, I know there's a reason for it. That's a hard thing for me to admit because I don't believe in much that I can't see or touch.” She tried to smile. “I believe in you and Joe and what we have together. That's good and real. But what's happening in that tunnel is real too. And if I don't keep on trying to help her, she may be lost.”
“You said ‘she' again.”
“Did I?” She hadn't realized it. “So what are you thinking, Eve?”
“I don't know what to think.” She frowned. “If it's not you, tell me who you think this woman is. Do you believe it's some telepathic connection with someone in distress? I've heard of things like that.”
“Not to people like me. I'm not psychic.”
“Anything is possible.”
Jane smiled. “I thought you'd try to find a way to believe in me, even if I sounded bonkers. That's why I told you.”
“After I pried it out of you.”
“I had to make you work a little.” Her smile faded. “I don't have any answers, Eve. I have a lot of questions and every one of them scares me.”
“When did you start having these nightmares?”
“Two months ago.”
“About the time Aldo appeared in the Southeast.”
“But I didn't know it. So he couldn't have triggered them.” She smiled again. “Go ahead. Tell me everything is possible again. I like that line.” She finished her hot chocolate. “Since I don't have any answers, it's very comforting.” She stood up. “Don't worry about this, Eve. Maybe it will just go away on its own.” She crossed the porch and gave her a quick hug. “And if it's any comfort to you, no serial killer is chasing me down that tunnel. That's not why I'm running.”
“Good. I'm glad you're alone. We're having enough trouble without that bastard following you into your dreams.”
She hesitated. “Well, I'm not exactly alone. There's someone behind me. A man. But I'm angry, not afraid of him.”
“Who is it?”
She shook her head. “Shadowy.” She shrugged and smiled. “Well, now you know everything I know. And it's probably all bunk and the result of my deprived childhood. But I'm not going to let any shrink tell me that. So let's forget it and go to bed.”
“I'm not going to forget it.”
“I know you won't.” Jane felt a surge of warmth as she looked at her. “All these years you've tried to bring home all those lost ones and you don't like the idea I might join the ranks even in a small way. I'm not lost, Eve. There's a way out of that tunnel. I just don't know where she—I'm going.”
“Then tell me when you have another one and we'll figure it out. Two heads are always better. I'm not about to scoff at anything you say to me. I've found that sometimes dreams are the only salvation.”
“I know you have.”
Eve suddenly stiffened as she caught an odd note in Jane's tone. “Jane?”
Lord, she hadn't meant to say that, Jane thought. She should back down and lie to her. No, she'd never lied to Eve and she wouldn't start now. “I . . . heard you.”
“What?”
“You were sitting out by the lake and you didn't know I was on the trail behind you.”
“And?”
“Bonnie. You were talking to Bonnie.”
Eve was silent for a long moment. “In my sleep?”
“I guess so. You were leaning against a tree. I don't know. I only know you were talking to someone who wasn't there.” She could see the shock on Eve's face and added quickly, “That was over three years ago. I knew you wouldn't want to talk about it so I never— I should have kept my mouth shut. Stop looking like that. It's okay. You have a right to— It's okay.”
“Three years.” She looked at her in wonder. “And you never mentioned it. . . .”
“What was there to say? You were hurting. So you talked to your dead daughter. It was your business.”
“And it never occurred to you that I might be a little . . . off center?”
“Not you.” She fell to her knees in front of her and laid her head in Eve's lap. She whispered, “And if you were, I wanted to be just like you. Everyone in the world should be so crazy.”
“Lord, I hope not.” Eve gently stroked Jane's hair. “No questions?”
“I told you, it's your business. I'm sorry I mentioned it. I didn't mean— Don't let it make a difference between us. I couldn't stand that.”
“It will make a difference.”
Jane swiftly lifted her head. “You'll feel awkward around me? Please don't do—”
“Shh.” Eve's fingers on her lips stopped the flow of words. “I don't feel awkward. If anything, I feel warmer and closer to you.”
“Why?”
She chuckled. “Because you think I'm a little bananas but you still love me. Because you didn't say a word to me for three years because you thought it might hurt me. I'd say that's pretty special, Jane.”
“No, it isn't,” Jane said unevenly. “You're special. You're good and you're kind and I'm lucky to be allowed in the same house with you. I've always known that.” She stood up. “So it's okay? You're not upset with me?”
“I'm not upset.” She grimaced. “When I get over the shock, I believe it will even be good to share Bonnie with someone.”
“Joe doesn't know?”
Eve shook her head. “It's . . . difficult.”
“I'll never tell anyone. Not even Joe.”
“I know you won't.”
She glanced away from her. “I do have one question. If you don't want to answer, that's okay.”
“Ask it.”
“Is Bonnie . . . is she a dream like the ones I'm having?”
“I like to think she's a dream. She tells me she's a bona fide ghost and that I'm in denial.” She smiled. “Sometimes I believe her. So I obviously have no right to question what you're experiencing, Jane.”
“You have the right to do anything you damn well please.” She moved toward the screen door. “And I'll fight anyone who says anything different. Good night, Eve.”
“Good night, Jane. Sleep well.”
“I'll try.” She smiled at her over her shoulder. “And if I don't, then I'll come running.”
“I'll always be here for you.”
Jane was still feeling the warmth engendered by those words when she reached her bedroom. Yes, Eve would always be there to comfort and support her. She had never had anyone to trust before Eve had come into her life, and after the confidences tonight, she felt closer to her than ever.
Now to go to bed and get to sleep and hope that she wouldn't be pulled back into that other place. Not yet. Each dream was becoming increasingly draining. It was like being on a treadmill whose speed kept escalating. She needed to recover strength before she faced it again.
“I'm coming,” she murmured as she pulled the covers up. “Just give me a little rest. I'm not abandoning you, Cira. . . .”
FIVE
It was too damn dark and they hadn't turned on the porch light.
Aldo lowered the binoculars with profound disappointment. When the two women had come out on the porch, he'd thought he'd be able to see them clearly but they'd both only been a shadowy blur.
But he knew which one was Jane MacGuire. He could feel the exquisite life force, the singing strength, the poetry that was such a part of her. When she'd knelt before the other woman and laid her head on her lap, it had been so characteristic, so familiar. She could move the heart with a gesture, control those around her with a smile or a tear, he thought bitterly.
She was doing that now with the woman who must be Eve Duncan. The woman was still staring after her and Aldo could almost feel the love radiating between them. He had not been surprised when he'd discovered that Jane lived with the same forensic sculptor who had reconstructed Caroline Halliburton. It had just been another sign that the circle was tightening.
Even the police car parked down the road had not intimidated him. He could move in these woods as silently as a forest animal. And those policemen standing guard were
only an indication that she knew he was near and was filled with fear.
As she should be.
Joe was lying still in the darkness when Eve slipped into bed but she could sense that he wasn't sleeping.
“Jane had another nightmare,” she said as she pulled the blanket over her. “I had to talk to her.”
“And?”
“Running down a tunnel, unable to breathe, someone in the tunnel with her but no threat.” She cuddled closer and laid her head on his shoulder. “It sounds like typical stuff but nothing's ever typical about Jane. We'll have to keep an eye on her.”
“I don't think there's any question about that,” Joe said dryly. “Particularly under the circumstances. And if it was as typical as you're saying, I don't think you'd have been out there on the porch for so long.”
Eve was silent a moment. “She says sometimes she's not sure it's a dream.”
“Now, that's not commonplace.”
“And a little scary?”
“No, it just has to be handled.” He gently stroked the hair at her temple. “You had your share of dreams about Bonnie and we fought our way through.”
Oh, yes, she remembered those first years after Bonnie's kidnapping when he'd been her rock in a seething whirlpool of despair. But she hadn't shared these last years of healing dreams of Bonnie with him. It was too bizarre. How would he handle those visions if she did?
“Eve?”
“What if she's right, Joe? Sometimes I wonder. . . . How do we know what are dreams and what's real?”
“I know.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Don't get all philosophical on me. You want to know about reality? Ask a hardheaded cop like me. We live and breathe it.”
“That's right, you do.”
He must have sensed the slight mental withdrawal because his arm tightened around her. “Okay, I'm not the most sensitive guy in the world. But I'm here for you and Jane. So take what I can give you.”
“You are sensitive, Joe.”
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