“That’s natural in a sculptor, which is what I am. What you’re talking about is something different.” She met his gaze. “I’m a sculptor, not Frankenstein.”
“I wish you were,” he said wistfully. “And perhaps you could be, given the opportunity. You may have the potential. Those lips…”
“A coincidence.” She was on edge, and she was tired of his insistence. She didn’t want to think about the last few hours when she had been drawn deep into the work. She had intended to block out all thought, but she had gone mindless, automatic, instead.
And when she had emerged, it was to see that face beginning to form beneath her fingers.
“It frightened you, didn’t it?” Doane said softly. “I told you that he wanted to come back to me. We belong together. We’ve waited so long to punish those bastards.”
“It didn’t frighten me.” She repeated, “Coincidence.” She put her hands on her back and arched it. “And I’ve had enough for right now. I’m going to get some rest.”
His smile disappeared. “I told you that you were going to work until we’re finished. We’re so close. I want it done.”
“Then do it yourself.” She forced herself to glance at the face of the reconstruction. It was not even half-completed yet she felt as if Kevin were there, veiled, ready to slide from beneath the layers of clay. “Have him help you if you think he can. But I warn you that you’re going to have trouble building the nose.”
“I’m not joking. I don’t want to waste any more time. Finish him.”
“After I rest my eyes and sleep for a while.” She got up from the stool. “I’m not afraid of you, Doane. If you want to hurt me or kill me, then do it. I don’t give a damn at the moment. My curiosity is wavering right now, and I’m tired of working on your monster. I’ll deal with him later. I told you, I’m going to rest.”
He frowned, obviously disconcerted. Then he smiled. “Kevin will be disappointed, but he’s waited for a long time. I’m sure he understands. Perhaps next time he’ll be more careful about scaring you.”
“He didn’t scare me. I’m a professional doing my job. Your son is a pitiful remnant I’m trying to put back together. Not anything else, Doane.”
“You protest too much.”
“Whatever.” She turned toward her bedroom. Escape tonight? Or did she need one more dose of the gas as insurance to make it safer? How would she know how much she needed? she thought impatiently. It was all guesswork and depended on how deep Doane slept or how alert he’d be now that he knew that she was definitely an antagonist.
“Wait.”
She didn’t turn around. “I’m not going to work on him any longer, Doane.”
“I’m not going to insist that you do. But I can’t let the time be entirely wasted. Come back here. I have a telephone call I want you to make.”
She turned warily to face him. “Call?”
“I think it’s time you became acquainted with one of the men whom you found so interesting in Kevin’s album. I’m not sure he’ll be equally interested in you, but it will be entertaining to find out.”
“What are you talking about? All I saw in that album were those poor children.”
“That’s right, but as a result of your prying, I told you about Tarther and Zander, didn’t I? Well, it’s almost the same thing.”
“That’s irrational. You’re going to make me talk to that poor child’s father?”
“Oh no, that wouldn’t be at all interesting for me. It’s Zander. You’re going to talk to Zander.”
Her eyes widened. “I have no desire to talk to that murderer. Though killing your son may have been the only decent thing he’s done in his life.” She met his gaze. “Maybe I should talk to him. Perhaps congratulations are in order. But why do you want me to talk to him? If he’s a paid hit man, he’s not going to care that I’m doing this reconstruction. DNA, maybe, but not a reconstruction that could be thrown out in a court of law.”
“I told you that I want everyone connected with Kevin’s death to come together. This seems a good initial opportunity since you’re being uncooperative in other areas.” He was dialing his phone. “Why not humor me? There’s a possibility that you could touch Zander’s heart, and he might come to rescue you. He obviously hates me enough to want to keep me from having anything I want. I’m a loose end, and he detests loose ends.” He chuckled. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not likely. You’d be amused, too, if you knew what a coldhearted son of a bitch he is.” His smile faded. “If you could have seen what was left of my beautiful boy in that furnace, even you might be sickened.”
“No more than if I saw a disease-carrying rat destroyed.”
“Ugly. How ugly you are.”
“And how did you get this Zander’s phone number? If he’s as smart as you say, I’d think he would make it very difficult for you.”
“He did, and I had to bounce off a dozen satellites and false numbers to narrow it down. But I had time and patience and Blick to help me.” He tilted his head, waiting as the phone rang. “And I’ve often wondered if he didn’t actually want to have me hunt him down. The bastard would feel like a caged tiger not to be able to go after a target he was salivating to get his teeth into. I’m sure he detests being frustrated.” He tensed. “He’s picking up. I’ll put him on speaker for you.” He spoke into the phone. “Zander, this is Doane.”
“Not Doane, Relling.” Zander’s deep voice was faintly mocking. “Venable gave you that new name and stowed you away for safekeeping, but you’ll always be the same scum as your son to me. No, worse. Because he had the guts to be a megamonster, and you were only a leech hanging on to him. I’ve been waiting for you to call. Or knock on my door. It took you long enough.”
“I was savoring the moment.”
“No, obsession carries one only so far and brainpower has to kick in somewhere. Anyone who could talk himself into carrying the water for a sloppy, self-indulgent executioner like Kevin Relling doesn’t have much upstairs.”
Doane flushed. “You’re trying to make me angry.”
“No, I wouldn’t bother. You’re not important enough. Why are you calling me? My guess is that you’re trying to whip up enough courage to come after me.”
“I have someone who wants to talk to you. I’ll bet that Venable went running to you and told you that I’ve left Colorado. I’ve enlisted the help of someone who is going to help me bring Kevin back to what he was before you sent him into those hellish fires. I thought you should get to know each other.”
Silence. “You’re speaking of Eve Duncan. I’ve no wish to get to know her. She’s nothing to me. You’re nothing to me.”
“I will be.” He thrust his phone at Eve. “Talk to him, Eve. Tell him how well you’re doing with my son’s reconstruction. Tell him that he couldn’t really kill my boy.”
“I’m not going to tell him that,” Eve said coldly as she took the phone. “Your son is dead. Hallelujah and Amen.” She spoke into the phone. “I don’t want to talk to you either, Zander. I abhor murderers, and I don’t know enough about you to know whether you’re any different than the man you killed. Probably not.”
Silence. “There are a few differences. I don’t kill children, and I have much more talent. I’m a professional who relies on business acumen, not emotion. Kevin Relling was ordinary, and I’m superb. Other than that, you’ll have to decide for yourself. Providing Kevin’s father lets you stay alive long enough to make any judgment. You do know he won’t let you live any longer than he has to to accomplish his purpose? Don’t let him tell you anything else. It will be a lie.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I’m not one of those children Doane lured into Kevin’s trap. I’ve seen evil before, and Doane is evil. I don’t need you to tell me that I shouldn’t trust him. Any more than I should trust you. I’m on my own, and both of you can go to hell.” She thrust the phone back at Doane. “And may you both burn there until it freezes over. I’m going to bed and let you two play your games and spit your poison at each other.”
She heard Doane laugh as he spoke to Zander. “She’s a delight and so talented. I knew you’d appreciate Eve. Kevin and I have gotten very close to her. I can’t wait until you see her work on his reconstruction.” He paused before adding softly, “I want him there in the room when I cut your heart out.”
“Are you finished?” Zander’s voice was without expression. “I believe you’ve accomplished what you set out to do. You wanted to let me know you can reach out and touch me, if only by phone. You wanted to dangle Eve Duncan … as if I’d care. Now you’re just muttering threats. You’re all puffed up and trying to pretend you’re as mean as your son. You’re beginning to bore me.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that. I just want you to know what’s coming and anticipate it. Kevin, Eve, and I will see you soon, Zander.” He hung up and glanced at Eve, who had stopped at her bedroom door. “I’m sure Zander liked you even though you weren’t kind to him. I find it promising that he decided to warn you against me.”
“Why? He doesn’t give a damn about me. He knows you were using me as a chess piece in this dirty battleground you’re playing on. You wanted him to be sure that Kevin was still alive to you and I was part of some macabre revenge plan.”
“But you’ll notice that Zander said I’d accomplished my aim. Now we’re all on the same page. Isn’t that cozy?”
She didn’t answer as the door closed behind her. Her breath released shakily. She was glad that she hadn’t let Doane see how upset she was after that phone call. It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it did. Talking to Kevin’s killer had pulled her deeper into the matrix that Doane had drawn about her, smothering her, making her part of it.
He
was smothering her. Not Zander, Kevin.
The memory of Kevin was suddenly before her. She could see the finely shaped lips, the gaping eye cavities, the smooth blankness of the rest of the face.
Waiting. Make me come alive. Bring me back. Punish you. Punish her.
Imagination. Oh, God, but what if it wasn’t?
She had to get out of here. She couldn’t touch that reconstruction again. She had to get away from him.
Don’t panic. Be calm. Think.
Doane had been wired when she had come in here, vibrantly alive, every sense on high alert. He had enjoyed every minute of that call to Zander. It was the wrong time to try to deceive or escape. It would be better to wait and pick a different opportunity.
But she didn’t want to wait. She wanted to break free. She wanted Bonnie to know she was safe, to know that no evil had touched her.
Bonnie …
But Bonnie couldn’t come, he was keeping her away. She looked up at the socket on the ceiling. But perhaps she could bring her near if she tried one more time …
“Don’t do it again, Mama. I was worried about you. It was almost too much.”
Her nails bit into her palms as her hands clenched in frustration. She had told Zander that she knew she was alone, but in this moment, that loneliness was nearly too deep to bear.
Stop whining, she thought in disgust. She would just do what had to be done. She’d stay away from that gas until the minute she tried to escape, then hope that her tolerance was strong enough. The last thing she wanted was to kill herself and let that bastard, Doane, win.
She moved across the room to the bed. Rest. Try to sleep. She had to be strong once she was on the run. She would listen for a while to make sure that Doane was as keen and alert as she thought, but tomorrow was probably the day she’d make her move.
The sound of Doane’s walking on the oak floor. His stride was quick, charged. He was going toward the worktable, stopping, standing in front of Kevin’s reconstruction. She could almost see him, staring eagerly, hungrily, at the half-finished sculpture.
Darkness.
Reaching out from the sculpture to enfold him. He would welcome that darkness, she knew.
But it was reaching past Doane, and she could feel that darkness touching her. She tensed and drew a deep breath, bracing herself.
Nausea.
She pushed it away. No way, you son of a bitch. You don’t have any power over me.
The nausea became stronger, then reluctantly ebbed and dwindled away.
She felt an instant of triumph, which vanished immediately. She had felt that darkness like a living presence. Before it had been less strong and could almost have been mistaken for imagination. But when Doane had stood before his son’s reconstruction just now, that dark wave had grown enormously.
Were they merging?
A bizarre idea, but Doane’s viciousness seemed to be becoming greater with every passing hour.
Every hour the reconstruction progressed …
So now she was blaming herself? Ridiculous.
She closed her eyes. Ridiculous or not, she still felt a chill.
And dangerous or not, tomorrow she had to leave this place.
* * *
“WASN’T THAT EXCITING?”
Doane whispered, his gaze on Kevin’s face. “Zander knows that time is running out for him now. It’s all coming together.”
Kevin stared blankly back at him from those empty cavities. Doane hated those hollow eyes. Eve had replaced the blackened bones with smooth clay, but he wanted to look into those eyes and pretend it was Kevin’s soul staring at him.
Who knows? Perhaps it would be.
“What do you think, Kevin? Time to start the list?” He took out his phone. “Oh, yes, I agree. We’ve waited long enough.” He dialed Blick. “We’re moving.”
“Jane MacGuire?”
“You seem to be obsessed by her. Start at the top of your list. Let me know.” He hung up. “It’s done, Kevin.”
He turned away from the skull and strode toward the couch. Staring at those empty eyes was causing him pain. He’d lie down and close his own eyes and remember Kevin the way he was before Zander had destroyed his bright, handsome beauty.
And perhaps those memories would make Kevin come alive again for him tonight.
* * *
“IT SEEMS DOANE IS GETTING
eager. I was wondering when he’d raise his head.” Zander turned to Stang as he hung up the phone. “Well, he’s done it, and it’s a very ugly head. He has Eve Duncan just as Venable told me. He’s forcing her to do a reconstruction of his son’s skull.”
“Will he kill her?” Stang asked.
“Undoubtedly. The question is when it will happen. He wants her to finish the reconstruction, but she may annoy him and cause him to blow.” He smiled faintly. “She’s not afraid of him. Nor me. You should have heard her take on both of us. It was … interesting. But dangerous for her if she can’t handle him.”