“We'll see.” His lips twisted. “As far as we know he didn't give any of the other victims jewelry. If he's been carrying it around that long evidently you're considered special.”
She made a face. “If I'm special, it's because I'm not a victim. And I won't be.”
“We hope,” Eve said.
“Think positive.” Jane moved toward her bedroom. “I'm going to bed now. If I stay here, you'll try to argue me out of it and that's not going to happen. It will only be hurtful. Good night, Joe.”
“Running away isn't going to stop me from—” He muttered a curse as her bedroom door closed gently but firmly behind her. “You talk her out of it, Eve. She listens to you.”
“I tried,” Eve said quietly. “She's not listening to anyone now. She thinks she's right and she's sticking to it.”
“She's only a kid, dammit.”
“Really? I believe we had this discussion weeks ago and you were telling me that she's never really been a kid and that was okay.”
“That was before we knew Aldo was on the scene. It's not okay now.”
“Too late.” Eve's faint smile was sad. “We might have had a chance of bringing a little springtime into her life before this happened, but not now. She's changed.”
“She's just gotten more obstinate.”
Eve shook her head. “She's formed. I've been watching it happen. She reminds me of one of my reconstructions. I work and I work and I know somewhere beneath my fingers everything is there but it's not ready to come out. Then all of a sudden, it all comes together.”
Joe was looking at her with a frown and she tried again. “It's like placing a fine piece of pottery in a kiln. When it goes in, it's soft and still malleable. When it comes out, everything has been burned away but what it is and is going to be forever. Aldo did that to her.” Her lips tightened. “May he burn in hell.”
“I'll second that.” Joe looked down at the photos. “He may not be close enough to her to know she's flaunting that thing.”
Eve raised her brows.
“Okay, wishful thinking.” He picked up the photos. “I'll fax these to the department and get busy on trying to backtrack that package from that Mail Boxes Unlimited in Carmel.”
“She's right, isn't she? Much as we hate it, it's an opportunity.”
He nodded as he headed for the fax machine. “Yes, dammit, she's right.”
The lamplight made the pale green vesuvianite flash and sparkle like the cold edge of a knife. Aldo liked knives, Jane thought.
Don't look at it. Don't think about what he did with those knives.
She turned out the light and tucked her hand beneath the covers. It didn't help. She could still see it burning, glittering in her mind's eye.
Then accept it. She'd made the decision and she had to live with it. She took her hand from beneath the covers and let it lie on top of the counterpane. Aldo had handled this ring. He'd touched it and looked at the glowing stone and thought about how it would disturb her. She could almost see him smiling and fondling it.
Well, it's mine now. And I won't let it be anything to me that I don't want it to be. So screw you, Aldo.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. She would not dream of Cira and she would not dream of Aldo. Close them out, rest, and gain strength and determination.
No, don't sleep. Think. Go over everything she knew about Aldo and find a way to bring him down. She was tired of hiding and letting him think he could terrorize her. The situation had to change. She had to make a move.
Sorry, Eve. . . .
The next morning Bartlett, as usual, was standing in front of the cottage. He smiled gently as Jane walked toward him. “Good morning. I hear there was a little disturbance with the mail last night.”
“A little. Where's Trevor?”
“With Matt Singer double-checking security. He should be here soon. You can reach him by cell phone if it's important.”
She shook her head. “I want to talk to him face-to-face.”
“I see. Well, I'll be glad of your company while you're waiting.” His gaze went to her hand and his smile faded. “Trevor is right, you really shouldn't be wearing that.”
“Trevor didn't try to stop me.”
“I know. He said it was up to you. It didn't surprise me. Though I was disappointed.”
“Why?”
“I like him. But I'd like him more if he'd admit that he isn't as hard as he pretends.”
“I don't believe there's much pretense about it.”
“That's because he's extremely good at it.”
“Like the time he was pretending to be from Scotland Yard investigating your wife's death? Evidently he didn't fool you.”
He smiled. “Almost. But I knew he wasn't a policeman when I followed him to Claridge's. Policemen don't usually have the funds for elite accommodations.”
“But smugglers and con men do?”
“Exactly. And after I became acquainted with Trevor I realized my best chance of getting Ellen's killer was with him. He had dedication.” He added gravely, “Dedication is important.”
“So is honesty. How many times has he lied to you?”
“Only the one time. He is honest in his own way.”
She shook her head. “I don't understand that kind of honesty. It's either one way or the other.”
“Black or white? I'm afraid Trevor is definitely in the gray areas. But that's better than being black, isn't it? A man of his capabilities could be a superb villain. It must be a great temptation to him.”
“He told me how much he liked money.”
He nodded. “So he says.”
“You don't believe him?”
“Oh, I believe he likes it. He grew up poor and had to fight his way. But there are easier ways to acquire money when you're as brilliant as Trevor. He doesn't have to walk a tightrope. I think he got a taste of it when he was a kid and over the years it's become an addiction.”
“Is that why he's after Aldo? Not the gold, just the thrill of the chase?”
“No, I think it's a little more personal than that. Did he tell you Pietro Tatligno was a mercenary with him in Colombia?”
Her eyes widened. “No, he just said he was an antiquities scholar.”
“And a very brilliant one, but he sowed a few wild oats before he gave up the military life and went back to school. Evidently he and Trevor became very good friends and it was Trevor who brought him to Guido Manza.”
“You're saying he's after Aldo because of guilt?”
“Trevor would deny it. He says guilt is nonproductive.” He smiled. “He might even tell you he was after Aldo because Aldo double-crossed him.”
“He did say Pietro didn't deserve to die.”
“Ah, maybe he's getting close to admitting the truth.” He shook his head as he looked down at her ring. “It's very pretty, isn't it? It's a terrible thing to use beauty to bring fear.”
“It only brings fear if you let it. It's only a ring.”
“And she's not about to let it,” Trevor said from behind her. “I take it Quinn wasn't able to persuade you to shed it.”
“No.” She turned to watch him come toward her. He looked wired, restless, and she was again aware of that barely contained energy he exuded with every movement. “It's my ring. My choice.”
“True.” He stopped before her. “But since I'm not as ethical as Quinn I might try to manipulate circumstances to make your choice be my choice.”
“Joe's honest but he's not above doing that, too. So maybe you're more alike than you think.”
He grimaced. “Don't tell him that. He wouldn't be flattered. He's a straight arrow and I'm nowhere near straight. I prefer the path untraveled and most of those are as twisted as a snake's back.”
She nodded. “Twisted. That's why I came out to talk to you.”
“I told her that she could call you and you'd come,” Bartlett said.
“Anytime.” He stared her directly in the eye. “Anywhere.”
She felt . . . strange. Breathless. She glanced hurriedly away. “Easy to say. You couldn't have been more than a mile down the road.”
He smiled. “But you still didn't phone me. Because you preferred to quiz my friend, Bartlett, about me?”
“I'm touched.” Bartlett beamed. “Do you know that's the first time you admitted I was your friend? How encouraging.”
Trevor shook his head resignedly. “Do you know he really means it? You can't fight it.” He took her arm. “Come on, I have to get out from under his shadow. All that sweetness and light makes me look bad in comparison.”
“It shouldn't,” Bartlett called after them. “I did my best to make you appear to advantage. It was quite difficult.”
“I don't doubt it.” Trevor glanced down at her as they moved down the path. “Did you laugh in his face?”
“No, I wouldn't hurt his feelings.”
“Perish the thought. Are you going to be in line to be wife number four?”
“I didn't come down here to talk about Bartlett.” She stopped and turned to face him. “And you know it. So why are you trying to keep me from saying what I mean to say?”
“Maybe I'm enjoying myself. From the moment I met you it's all been tension, defensiveness, and suspicion. I like to see you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Sort of soft. I don't give myself credit for any change of demeanor but I've always been one to take advantage of any break I'm given.”
“I'm not soft. I don't pretend to be.”
“Most people have a soft side. You show yours to Eve and Quinn and Toby.” He wrinkled his nose. “And now to Bartlett.”
“That's different.”
“And that's what I'm saying. Refreshing.” He held up his hand as she started to speak. “Okay, I can see you're growing impatient. Fire when ready.”
“You said that Aldo was a computer genius. When you were hobnobbing together in Herculaneum how much did you find out about his surfing habits?”
“Internet surfing?”
“What else?”
“First, we weren't hobnobbing. Second, why the hell do you want to know?”
“I'm not sure. Something keeps nagging at me but it's not clear yet. I'm sure you weren't bosom buddies but you were both computer geeks. You had that in common and you were isolated together in the tunnel. You must have communicated on some level.”
“What are you digging for?”
She shrugged. “Everyone has favorite Internet sites they go to almost every day. I know I do.”
“So do I.” He was frowning. “You want to know what sites are Aldo's favorites?”
“Do you know?”
“Probably. As you said, we had that in common and I admired his expertise. We didn't share information but I did watch him occasionally.”
“Can you remember?”
“It's been a long time.”
“Can you remember?”
He nodded slowly. “That entire period is pretty well carved into my memory. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to make a list of all his preferred sites.”
“I may not remember all of them, Jane.”
“Well, whatever you do remember. Anything.”
“Why?”
“It's a starting place. I don't know where else we can go. I was lying in bed last night and trying to think of any way to get to Aldo before he got to me. But I don't know anything about him. Not really.” She made a helpless gesture with her hand. “There's so little . . . He's nuts. He thinks I'm Cira's reincarnation, and he uses computers. I picked the most concrete thing to work on.”
“And how do you intend to use it once I rack my memory and furnish you with the info you need?”
“I told you. I'm not sure yet.”
He studied her expression. “You may not be sure but you have an idea where you're going with this. I could hold out and force you to share.”
“And I'd resent the force and you'd have the devil of a time getting me to cooperate with you for the foreseeable future.”
“That's true.” He smiled. “I just thought I'd bluff a bit. I don't like being left in the dark but I'll be patient. I know I'll be the first you'll tell when it all comes together.”
“Why?”
“Because you realize I'll help you. I won't argue. I won't try to keep you from sticking your neck out. If you have a chance of getting him, I'll let you run the risks.” He paused. “Even if it means taking you away from Eve and Quinn and that blanket of protection they've wrapped around you.”
She was disappointed, she realized in surprise. Why? It was what she'd expected, what she needed from him. “Good. When can you have the list for me?”
“Tonight. Is that soon enough?”
“It will have to be.” She turned away. “And I'm going to be busy this afternoon anyway.”
He stiffened. “Doing what?”
“I'm going to the mall and then to have a pizza at CiCi's.”
“What the hell? And you think Quinn will allow that?”
“Not without a fight. But he'll let me go in the end. He won't want to miss the opportunity of drawing Aldo. I'll ask Eve to go with me and Joe will have Singer assign someone to follow us.”
“I suppose I don't have to guess why you've decided that you have to go shopping and are ignoring the fact that Domino's delivers?”
“He'll consider a crowded mall safe and a restaurant will give me a chance to display his little gift.” She lifted her hand so that the sunlight caused the stone to blaze with color. “He has to see me. I have to push him. I have to make him angry and uncertain. He's killed twelve women that we know about, and never been caught. That must make him feel confident, even godlike. He probably thinks all he has to do is wait for an opportunity and he'll chalk up number thirteen.” She smiled without mirth. “But we have to make sure thirteen is his unlucky number. Catch him off balance and keep pulling the rug from beneath him until he topples.”
“And you think flashing that ring is going to help?”
“It's a start. If it doesn't shake him, I'll make sure it irritates him.”
“I'm sure you will.” He was silent a moment. “I'd enjoy seeing you in action. I may have to go along and watch.”
She shook her head. “You have work to do. And I don't want him to see me under any obvious surveillance. It's much more effective to seem to have only Eve with me to show him how little he matters.”
“He wouldn't see me.”
“I thought you were going to let me take my own risks.”
He shrugged. “It's not as easy as I thought. I'm working on it.”
“Work harder.” She started toward the cottage. “You stay here.”
She was flushed, radiant, beautiful.
And triumphant.
Aldo tried to suppress the anger that burned through him while he watched her laughing with Eve Duncan as they crossed the parking lot toward the restaurant. Now the bitch was gesturing, every motion causing the ring on her hand to glitter.
It had been the same in the mall. She had been glowing, every feature of her face animated and so alive it had been like a slap in the face to him.
She was taunting him not only with his gift but with her living presence.
She wasn't afraid. The ring had meant nothing to her; the implied threat had brought only laughter.
He could feel the rage break free and tear through him. How dare she? Couldn't she see that her time had come and he was the sword that was going to stab her to her black heart?
Keep calm. She would learn. Every slight would be revenged in time. He'd carve that smile from her face.
Bitch!
But he couldn't tolerate the knowledge that she had been so scornful of him, that she'd dared to treat him as if he were of no importance. He couldn't sit here and let her do that. He had to show her. He had to make her realize with whom she was dealing.
Satisfied?” Eve asked Jane quietly as she drove up
the road toward the lake cottage. “You look like a truck ran over you.”
“I feel like it.” Jane leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. “I never imagined being this cheerful would be such a strain. I'm exhausted.”
“So am I,” Eve said dryly. “But I'm tired from glancing discreetly over my shoulder.”
“Very discreetly.” Jane opened her eyes and smiled. “Thank you for that. It wouldn't have done me any good to show how uncaring of Aldo I was if you were looking worried.”
“I know that.” She parked the car in front of the cottage. “And I wasn't about to go through all this stress for nothing.” She turned and looked at Jane. “Was it for nothing? Do you think he was watching?”
Lord, I hope he'd been there, Jane thought wearily. “I don't know. A few times I felt as if . . . Maybe. It was worth a try.”
“Once,” Eve said. “Joe and I went along with you but you'll have a battle if you decide to make this a daily outing.”
Jane nodded as she got out of the car. “Definitely not daily.”
“That's a little noncommittal,” Eve said. “I meant a permanent end to—” She stopped. “Okay, let's be reasonable about this. If you continue, you'll form a pattern of behavior and the last thing you want is to be predictable. That can be fatal.”
Jane smiled. “I agree. We won't be predictable.”
Eve relaxed. “I'm glad you said ‘we.' You're getting a little too independent for Joe and me. It scares us.”
Jane shook her head. “I came to you and asked you to come with me, didn't I? I don't want to be independent if it means closing you out. I was too much alone when I was a kid. It sucks.”
Eve chuckled. “Yes, it does.” She took Jane's arm and climbed the porch steps. “As you put it so delicately. It sucks big-time.” She looked out over the lake. “Pretty sunset. I never get tired of them. They soothe the soul.”
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