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BOOK: The Face of Deception
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His smile disappeared. “Sorry, I don't have the right to criticize Quinn. I've failed pretty miserably in the friend sweepstakes.”

“Stop beating yourself up. Your thinking is blurred. When did you last sleep?”

He shrugged.

“You'll feel better after you have a good night's sleep.”

“Will I?”

She hesitated and then said bluntly, “Probably not. But you'll be able to think clearer.”

He smiled faintly. “Have I ever mentioned how much I like that brutal honesty of yours?”

“It wouldn't do any good to give you a sugar-coated pill. You'd only laugh at me. You've been through pain before. You know there's no quick fix. You just have to ride with it.”

“Yes, that's the only way to handle it.” He paused. “But I wouldn't laugh at you, Eve. No way.” He took his hand from the wheel and covered her hand that lay on the seat between them. “Thank . . . you.”

“For what?” She tried to smile lightly. “Saving myself a trip to Timbuktu?”

“No, that's still on the agenda if I can work it in.” He squeezed her hand and then slowly released it. “I believe I envy Quinn.”

“Why?”

“Many things.” His lips tightened grimly. “But it's much more desirable for a man to be protector and comforter than the other way around. Crying on your shoulder like this displays a certain lack of strength.”

“You didn't cry on my shoulder.” And no one could ever say Logan lacked strength. “You yelled at me and threw my clothes around.”

“Same thing. Sorry, I lost control. It won't happen again.”

She hoped it wouldn't happen again. Her response to his pain had startled her. It had been an almost maternal reaction. She had taken him in her arms and had wanted to rock him until the agony disappeared. She had wanted to comfort and heal, to hold and caress. His vulnerability had broken through barriers that his strength would never have breached. “No problem. Just hang my clothes back up and we'll call it even.”

She looked out the window. The need was over. Shut him out. He was coming too close.

She could feel his gaze on her, but she didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the sun setting behind the trees.

He didn't speak again until he pulled into the parking space near her motel room. “I have to talk to Kessler. When do you expect him back from the lab?”

She checked her wristwatch. Seven forty-five. “He might be in his room now. I was supposed to go to his room at eight and we were going to order dinner to be delivered.” She made a face. “Bubba Blue's Barbecue. Gary said he could imagine the place probably had a rattlesnake in a glass case, sawdust on the floor, and a country singer yodeling—Oh, shit.” Her eyes filled with tears. She had been so busy comforting Logan that Gil's death had not hit home until that moment. Would she ever listen to a country song again without remembering Gil Price?

“Yeah.” Logan's eyes were glittering. “I told him he'd love this place. That all they had on the radio was country music like—” He abruptly opened the door and got out of the car. “I have to go to my room and shower and change clothes.” He reached in the backseat and pulled out the case. “I'll take custody of Ben for a while. I'll meet you in Kessler's room in twenty minutes.”

She nodded numbly as she moved toward her door. Gil Price, humor and gentleness and a zestful love of life. All that gone. Death. Creeping close, striking down Gil. Who was next? Logan could have died with Gil.

The other side of a coin.

She went into the room and shook her head as she saw the clothes scattered on the bed. She'd clean up this mess and try to—

Screw it.

She was scared and worried and chillingly aware of the shadows drawing near. She hadn't talked to Mom since last night and she needed to make contact. She reached for the telephone in her bag.

No answer.

What the hell?

She dialed the number again.

No answer.

The other side of a coin.

Your position isn't as strong as you think.

Mom.

Her hand was trembling as she dialed Logan's room number. “I can't reach Mom. She's not answering her phone.”

“Don't panic. It may be—”

“Don't
tell
me not to panic. I can't reach her.”

“It may be nothing. Let me call Pilton and check.”

“What's the chance of that hap—”

“I'm going to call Pilton,” he interrupted. “I'll get back to you.” He hung up the phone.

Nothing was wrong.

Fiske hadn't found her.

Nothing was wrong.

The phone rang.

She jumped to answer it.

“She's fine,” Logan said. “I talked to her. She and Margaret were just sitting down to dinner. The battery on her phone was down.”

Safe. The relief was so intense, she felt almost sick. “She's okay?”

“She's worried about you. She'd like to break my neck. But she's okay.”

She couldn't talk for a moment. “You know that boat to Timbuktu, Logan?”

“Yes.”

“I want my mother on it.”

“We'll work on it right away. Will you go with her?”

Hell, yes. Get me out of here. “No, I'll see you in Kessler's room in fifteen minutes.”

         

“I have a copy of the DNA report,” Gary said as soon as he opened the door. “Where's Quinn with those comparison samples?”

“He should be here soon.” She looked beyond him to Logan, who was sitting in the chair across the room. “Logan told you about Gil Price?”

Gary nodded. “Not good.”

“Very bad. You've done everything you can, Gary. You've got the report for us. For God's sake, will you leave now?”

“When I finish. When I have Quinn's samples.”

“That's not good enough. We don't need you anymore. Joe can go to the lab and get—”

“No, Duncan.” Gary's voice was gentle but firm. “I finish what I start.”

“That's stupid. You'll end up like Gil Price.” She whirled on Logan. “Tell him.”

“I've tried,” Logan said. “He won't listen.”

“Like Gil. Gil wouldn't listen either.” She drew a deep breath. “But you have to listen. She's going to— Two sides of a coin.”

“What?”

“Lisa Chadbourne. She phoned me this afternoon.”

Logan sat up straight in his chair. “What the hell?”

“She wanted to make a deal with me for the skull.”

“Why didn't you tell me she called?” Logan asked grimly.

“Think about it. Were you in a mood to listen? You wouldn't have been reasonable.”

“I don't feel reasonable now either. Did she threaten you?”

“In a way.”

“What kind of way?”

“She was . . . sad. What difference does it make?” she asked impatiently. “I just want Gary and my mother out of this. Okay?”

“Did she say anything to lead you to believe that she knows anything about Bainbridge or your mother?”

“Of course she didn't. She's too smart. She'd never give anything away.” She turned to Gary. “But you have to—”

“The only thing I have to do is call Bubba Blue's Barbecue,” Gary said. “Do you want ribs or steak?”

“I want you to leave.”

“Or maybe a pork sandwich?”

“Gary . . .”

He reached for the phone and started dialing. “Give me your order or you'll get the ribs.”

She gazed at him helplessly. Dammit. “Steak.”

“Good choice.”

         

Joe Quinn arrived at the door thirty minutes after the delivery man from Bubba's brought the food.

“Got it.” Joe held up the two black thermal bags. “How fast can you get a comparison?”

She eagerly turned to Gary. “Tonight?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I'll call Chris and see if I can persuade him to go back to the lab tonight.” He wiped the barbecue off his fingers and reached for the telephone. “Get out of here. It's going to take some talking. He worked most of last night for me and he's not going to like this.”

Joe opened the door. “When you're ready to go, I'll drive you to the lab, Gary.”

Gary waved an acknowledging hand.

“You okay?” Joe asked Eve as they walked out.

“As good as can be expected. Gil Price was killed.”

Joe glanced at Logan. “Your friend?”

Logan nodded.

“I heard about the press conference. Everything's going to hell, isn't it?”

“That's pretty accurate.”

“What are you planning to do with the DNA evidence once you get it?”

“I have a few friends in Washington who would go to bat as long as the proof is there.”

Joe shook his head. “Too chancy.”

“Not with Andrew Bennett in my corner. He's chief justice of the Supreme Court.”

“Better than a politician but still risky.”

“You have a better idea?”

“The media.”

“Lisa Chadbourne's an expert at manipulating the media.”

“Maybe, but name me a reporter who's not ready to blow up an entire administration if it sells newspapers.”

“The story's too bizarre,” Eve said. “And they've laid too many obstacles for us to even get near a newspaper.”

“I could do it.”

Eve shook her head.

“I know a man with the
Atlanta Journal and Constitution
. Peter Brown. Won a Pulitzer five years ago.”

“For God's sake, you'd get arrested yourself for harboring criminals, Joe.”

“Peter will keep his mouth shut.”

“Maybe,” Logan said.

“Definitely.” He met Logan's eyes. “I've already called him and he's interested. Hell, he's salivating. He's only waiting for the DNA.”

“Son of a bitch. Without consulting us?”

“I had to do something while I was spinning my wheels in Richmond. It's better than trusting a politician.”

Eve held up her hand. “Why don't we wait until we get the results before we start arguing about what to do?”

“I want this over,” Joe said. “I want you out of it.”

“No more than I do,” she said wearily. “It's getting—”

“He'll do it,” Kessler announced as he came out of the room. “He's meeting me at the lab in twenty minutes.”

“Let's go.” Joe moved toward a black Chevrolet a few yards away. “How long will this take, Gary?”

“Six, eight hours.”

“Pack your bag, Eve.” Joe slipped into the driver's seat and started the car. “I'll be back as soon as I get the report. We'll go pick up your mother and I'll find a safe place for you until we can wrap this up.”

Before she could say anything he was pulling out of the lot.

“Well, we agree on one thing,” Logan murmured. “We both want you out of here and somewhere safe.”

“The media wasn't a bad idea.”

“No, it's solid. We may go that route. But we need Washington too.”

“Then why did you argue with him?”

He shrugged. “I'm afraid it's becoming a habit.” He turned away. “I'll go pack and make a few calls to my friends in Washington. I can't let Quinn get ahead of me.”

         

Teller's research lab was dark except for lights shining in one area of the lower floor.

Burning the midnight oil, Fiske thought. The center was supposed to close at six; now, why would anyone be there at one in the morning? Two cars in the parking lot. One Chevrolet with a rental tag.

He had a hunch he'd struck pay dirt.

He popped the lid of his trunk and got out of the car. He opened the lid of his electronic equipment case and took out his listening device.

A few minutes later he was back in the driver's seat. He settled himself more comfortably and waited for them to come out of the building.

TWENTY

4:05
A.M.

Eve was waiting at the window when Joe and Gary pulled up into the motel parking lot. “They're here,” she tossed over her shoulder to Logan. She threw open the door. “Done?”

“Done.” Gary handed her the briefcase. “Millicent Babcock's sample strongly indicated a relationship.” A brilliant smile lit his face. “Chadbourne's saliva was a definite match, of course.”

“Of course. I know that.” Eve smiled shakily. “You'd be scowling and calling me names if it wasn't.”

“And rightly so. For wasting my valuable time.”

“I've called and arranged a condo in Fort Lauderdale for you.” Logan gave him a card. “It's booked under the name Ray Wallins. Stay there until we call you and let you know it's safe.”

Kessler smiled slyly. “A luxury condo? With maid service?”

Logan grinned. “Maybe. Don't push your luck.”

“A man of my skills and intellect deserves luxury. It shouldn't be wasted on philistines like you, Logan.”

Logan handed him an envelope. “Cash. It should keep you content for a few months.”

“Ah, that's better.” Kessler tucked the envelope in his jacket pocket. “It will do until the first advance on my best-selling book comes in.” He looked at Eve. “I may need an assistant, my spelling is atrocious. I might be persuaded to give you a room in my condo if you ask me nicely, Duncan.”

“I can't spell either.”

“I guess that means no. Oh, well, you'd have tried to hog the credit anyway.”

Joe came out of the hotel room carrying Eve's bag. “We're out of here, Eve. If we start now, we can be at Lanier by nine.”

She nodded, still looking at Gary. “Thank you. You've been wonderful.”

He nodded. “Magnificent.”

“You'll leave now?”

“I'll throw my clothes into my suitcase, put the case in my Volvo, and I'm on my way to Fort Lauderdale. Five minutes.”

“We'll wait.”

“Duncan, it's not—” He shrugged. “What a stubborn woman.” He disappeared into his room and came out a few minutes later. He put his suitcase in his car and turned to face her. “Satisfied?”

“Yes.” She stepped closer and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

“You're really becoming boring, Duncan.” Gary got into his car and turned on the engine.

“Are you ready to go?” Logan asked Eve. “I assume you're going with Quinn, since he's done everything but toss you in the car. I'll follow you to Lanier.”

“We're leaving now.” Joe got into the driver's seat. “Are you packed?”

“Everything's in my car.” Logan crossed the parking lot toward the brown Taurus.

“Eve?” Joe said.

She nodded quickly and opened the passenger door. The first obstacle, proof, was overcome. She had the DNA reports in the briefcase in her hand. Gary would be safe and so would her mother when they reached her in a few hours.

Thank God.

4:10
A.M.

Fiske took the listening device out of his ear and dialed Lisa Chadbourne.

“They were staying at the Roadway Stop in Bainbridge,” Fiske said. “I followed Kessler and Joe Quinn back from the DNA Testing Center. Logan and Duncan are here too. But none of them are staying. Quinn just put Duncan's suitcase in his car. Duncan said good-bye to Kessler. He's not going with them. Kessler's driving out of the parking lot now.”

“What about Logan?” Lisa Chadbourne asked.

“He's getting in another car. A brown Taurus.”

“Does she have the skull with her?”

“How do I know? She's not going to be carrying a skull under her arm like a purse. I guess she could have stuffed it in her bag. Or maybe Logan has it.”

“Or maybe they've hidden it somewhere. I'm not asking for your guesses. You haven't seen it?”

The bitch was beginning to annoy him. “No way.”

“Then don't let them out of your sight. I
need
that skull.”

“You've told me that. Logan's following Quinn out of the parking lot.”

“Then go after them, dammit.”

“No problem. I know where they're going. They're heading north to pick up Duncan's mother at Lanier.”

“You're sure?”

“I just heard Quinn say it.”

A silence. “You're positive you won't lose them.”

“I won't lose them.”

“Then I have something else for you to do.”

         

Eve's digital phone rang when they were forty miles outside Bainbridge.

“Duncan. Don't—”

She could barely hear the words.

“What?”

“Dun-can . . .”

Her heart jumped. “Gary?”

Another voice. “He wanted to say good-bye.”

“Who is this?” she whispered.

“Fiske. She wants the skull, Eve.”

“Where are you?”

“Back at the motel. I ran our good Dr. Kessler off the road and then persuaded him to come back to his room for a little discussion.”

“I want to talk to Gary.”

“He's not able to talk anymore. She said to tell you it won't be the last. Give her the skull, Eve.” He hung up.

“Oh, God.”

“What is it?” Joe's gaze was fixed on her face.

Her stomach was clenching. She couldn't breathe. “Turn around. We have to go back to the motel.”

“What?”

“Fiske . . . and Gary. I know it was Gary.”

“You can't be sure. It might not be him. It could be a trick.”

“Dammit, I know it was Gary. He called me Duncan.”

“It's a trap, Eve.”

“I don't
care
. We have to go back.” Dear Jesus, that whisper. “Turn around, Joe.”

“The next place I can. I'll put on my emergency lights to signal Logan.”

“Hurry.” She tried to think. She had the briefcase with the DNA reports, but Logan had the skull. If it was a trap, she had to make sure— “No, stop. I have to give him the briefcase.”

They pulled off the highway, and Logan stopped beside them.

Joe got out of the car and shoved the briefcase at him. “We're going back to the motel. Kessler called Eve. It's Fiske.”

“Get in the car with me, Quinn,” Logan said. “Eve, you wait here.”

“Screw you. Let's go, Joe.”

Joe started the car.

“I'll follow you,” Logan said.

“Don't you dare,” Eve said fiercely. “She wants the skull. If I have to bargain with it to save Gary, I'll do it. But I won't have any bargaining power if Fiske takes it away from you.”

“Fiske won't—”

Joe was already streaking down the highway toward the motel.

She wants the skull, Eve.

Give her the skull.

Gary.

The door of Kessler's room was cracked open, and light streamed through the narrow opening.

“Stay here.” Joe got out of the car.

“I'm going to—”

“Don't argue with me. Hey, this is what I do.” He drew his gun from his shoulder holster. “It will be okay.” He pressed against the wall to one side of the door and kicked the door open.

No barrage of shots.

No one barreling through the door.

Nothing.

Joe waited a moment and then crouched low and ran into the room.

She couldn't
stand
it. She jumped out of the car and ran toward the door.

Joe was suddenly standing in front of her, barring the way. “No, Eve.”

“What do you—
No
.” She pushed him aside and ran into the room.

Gary was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, a knife protruding from his throat.

She fell to her knees beside him. “Gary.”

“Come on.” Joe tried to lift her to her feet, but she shrugged him off. “We have to get you out of here.”

“We can't leave him.” She noticed for the first time the two other knives pinning Gary's palms to the floor. “Oh, Joe, look what he did to him.”

“It's over, Eve. I have to get you out of here.”

Tears were running down her cheeks. “He hurt him. He did it on purpose. He wanted me to know he hurt him.
She
wanted me to know.”

“He's not hurting anymore.”

She was rocking back and forth as pain seared through her. “It's not fair. He wanted to fight them. He wanted to—”

“Eve, look at me.”

She gazed blindly up at Joe's face.

His eyes . . .

He reached down and touched her hair with the most exquisite tenderness. “I'm sorry,” he said gently.

His fist lashed out and struck her chin.

Darkness.

         

“Is she hurt?” Logan was getting out of his car when Joe carried Eve out of the motel.

“No, get the car door for me.”

Logan opened the passenger door of Joe's car. “What happened to her? Fiske?”

“Me.” He put her in the seat and closed the door. “She wouldn't leave Kessler.”

Logan's gaze flew to the open door. “What—”

“Dead.”

“Fiske?”

“Not there.” Joe went around the car and got into the driver's seat. “Get in your car and get out of here. She told you not to come back.”

“But it appears Fiske didn't want to bargain after all.”

“He wanted to shake her. It wasn't pretty.” He reached into the glove compartment and took out a paper towel. “Blood.” He began to wipe the stains from Eve's hands. “Lots of blood.”

“Shit.” Logan's gaze was fastened on Eve's pale face. “What did you do to her?”

“I knocked her out.” Joe started the car. “Kneeling there in Kessler's blood was bad for her. Fiske might as well have been standing over her with another butcher knife.”

“A knife?”

“I told you it wasn't pretty.”

“She's not going to be pleased that you man-handled her.”

“I did what I had to do. Do you have a gun?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn't tell Eve.” Joe smiled sardonically. “You knew how she'd react. You served me up for barbecue but you protected your ass. Well, keep that gun handy and stay close behind me. If you get hijacked, I might stop and help you.” He backed up the car. “If you're lucky.”

         

Blood.

Knives.

Pinned.

Oh, God, he'd crucified Gary.

She opened her mouth to scream.

“Wake up.” She was being shaken. “Wake up, Eve.”

Her lids flew open.

Joe. Joe in the driver's seat next to her. Darkness all around her.

A dream. It had all been a dream.

“A dream . . .”

He shook his head.

“Gary . . .” Tears began to pour down her cheeks. “Dead?”

Joe nodded.

She huddled in the seat, trying to get away from the nightmare. But it came at her. Blood. Gary. Joe's hand on her hair. Darkness.

“You hit me,” she said dully.

“I had to do it,” he said quietly.

“You thought I couldn't stand it.”

“Maybe. But I knew I couldn't stand it.”

“She wants the skull. The other side of a coin . . . She didn't even try to bargain. She said she had to move forward. She wanted to show me she had the power to reach out and kill someone close to me.”

“That seems to be the picture.”

“Gary wasn't even really involved,” she said numbly. “He was out of it. Fort Lauderdale— We shouldn't have let him go alone.”

“We thought it was safe. We had no idea Fiske knew we were in Bainbridge.”

“She wants the skull, Eve.”

“Where's Logan?” she asked.

“A few miles behind us.”

“He still has the skull?”

Joe nodded.

“Give her the skull.”

“She said to tell you it won't be the last.”

Fear jolted through her. “My mother.”

“We're on our way to her right now.”

“She warned me Gary wouldn't be the only one. How far away are we?”

“Another three hours.”

“Go faster.”

“Easy.”

“Don't tell me that. She knows I care about my mother. It's only logical that she'd choose Mom as another target.”

“Or that she'd make sure you'd think that and draw you to her. It isn't a fact that they know where your mother is.”

“We didn't realize that Fiske found out about Bainbridge.” Her nails dug into her palms as her hands clenched into fists. “But he did. He did.”

“Yes.”

“And he could be on his way to Lanier now. He could be ahead of us.”

“But not necessarily to kill your mother. It's more likely that he'd want to get there ahead and set a trap. After all, the skull is the objective.”

She took out her phone. “I'm going to warn them.”

“Fine. Good idea. But don't panic them into running. They could be safer where they are until we get there. Just tell Pilton to be on the alert.”

They could be safer?

Who the hell knew if anything she did would make them safer with Fiske out there?

Her hand was shaking as she dialed the number.

         

Fiske got back in the car he'd parked in the driveway of the deserted cottage. Daylight was breaking in the east and filtering through the mist-shrouded tops of the pine trees.

He figured he had at least an hour's lead. He had scouted the Duncan cottage and it was clear the Duncan woman had been busy on the phone. Lights were burning and he had watched Pilton go back into the cottage and shut the door after reconnoitering the perimeter. They were waiting for him.

Well, wasn't that what he had wanted? A challenge.

He dialed Lisa Chadbourne. “She warned them.”

“But they're still there?”

“I think they're waiting for her. Pilton came out fifteen minutes ago and threw some bags into the van, but no one's come out since.”

“Don't let them leave.” She paused. “And don't touch them. Not until you get me that skull.”

“The mother would be a good goad. Better than Kessler.” He paused and then insinuated a goad himself. “Though I handled Kessler exceptionally well. Do you want the details?”

A silence. “I told you the results I needed. I don't need the details.”

Squeamish. “I kept Kessler alive long enough for him to call her. It wasn't easy with knives in—”

“I said I don't need to know. Now remember that Eve Duncan can only be pushed so far. Don't foul this up, Fiske.”

“You're beginning to sound like Timwick.”

Another silence. “Sorry. I'll leave it in your hands. I know you won't fail me.” She hung up the phone.

BOOK: The Face of Deception
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