The Killing Game (12 page)

Barbara Eisley was silent.

“Okay, you won't give us the records, but maybe you remember something about this child,” Joe said.

An undefinable expression crossed her face. “I don't handle casework any longer. I have too much paperwork.”

Eve leaned forward. “But you do remember something.”

Eisley was silent a moment. “I had to authorize taking a little girl out of a foster home two years ago. The couple who was caring for her claimed she was disruptive and disobedient. I had to bring the child in and interview her. She wouldn't talk to me, but she was covered with bruises. I checked her medical record and she'd been taken to Grady Hospital twice with broken bones during the last year. I gave permission for her to be removed from the home. I also removed the foster parents from our rolls.” She smiled. “I remember thinking she must have been a gutsy little kid. She kept on giving those bastards hell.”

“What's her name?”

She ignored Eve's question. “She was a smart kid. High IQ, did well in school. She probably figured they'd give her up as a meal ticket if she caused enough trouble.”

“You placed her with another family?”

“We had no choice. Most of our foster parents aren't abusive. Sometimes we make mistakes. We can only do our best.”

“Tell me her name.”

Eisley shook her head. “Not without a court order. What if I was wrong?”

“What if you were right? She could die, dammit.”

“I've spent my entire life trying to help kids. Now I've got to think of myself.”

“Please.”

She shook her head again. “I've worked too hard. I still work hard.” She paused. “You'd think in my position I wouldn't have to take work home.” She nodded at her briefcase beside her chair. “But I had some old files on a computer disk to review, so here I go again.”

Hope flared inside Eve. “That's too bad.”

“It goes with the territory.” She stood up. “It's been an interesting evening. Sorry I can't help you.” She smiled. “I believe I have to go to the rest room. I suppose you'll be gone when I come back. I hope you find the little girl.” Her gaze narrowed on Eve. “I just remembered, the kid reminded me a little of you. She stared at me with those big eyes and I thought she'd go on the attack any minute. Same tough little—Something wrong?”

Eve shook her head.

Barbara Eisley turned to Mark. “Thanks for dinner. But I still haven't forgiven you for quoting me in that story.” She turned and made her way through the tables toward the rest room.

“Thank God.” Eve reached for the briefcase. It was unlocked and there was only one disk in the leather pocket on the side. Bless Barbara Eisley. She tucked it in her purse. “She wants us to take it.”

“You mean steal it,” Joe murmured as he threw some bills down on the table.

“Which puts her in the clear.” Eve turned to Mark. “Do you have a laptop with you?”

“In the trunk of my car. I always keep it there. We can check the disk as soon as we reach the parking lot.”

“Good. You'll have to drop into Barbara Eisley's office tomorrow and leave the disk on her desk. I don't want to get her into trouble.” She stood up. “Let's go. We need to be out of here before she comes back. She might change her mind.”

“Not likely,” Joe said. “It's pretty clear you impressed her when you were a kid.”

“Or Jane did.” She started for the door. “Or maybe she's just a woman trying to do the right thing in a wrong world.”

THERE WERE TWENTY-SEVEN
records on the disk. It took Mark twenty minutes to scan the first sixteen.

“Jane MacGuire,” Mark read from the computer screen. “The age is right. Four foster homes. Physical description checks out. Red hair, hazel eyes.”

“Can you print it out?”

Mark plugged a small Kodak printer into the laptop. “She's living right now with a Fay Sugarton who's also foster parent to two other children. Chang Ito, twelve, and Raoul Jones, thirteen.”

“The address?”

“Twelve forty-eight Luther.” He tore off the printout and handed it to her. “Do you want me to get out my street map?”

Eve shook her head. “I know where it is.” Dom had said she would recognize the place. “It's in my old neighborhood. Let's go.”

“You want to go see her tonight?” Joe asked. “It's almost midnight. I doubt if this Fay Sugarton will take kindly to being awakened by strangers.”

“I don't care how she takes it. I don't want—”

“And what are you going to say when you do see her?”

“What do you think? I'm going to tell her about Dom and ask her to let us keep Jane until the danger is over.”

“It will take some persuasion to make her do that if she cares anything about the kid.”

“Then you'll have to help me. We can't leave her in a place where—”

“You're going to need Fay Sugarton's cooperation,” Joe said quietly. “You don't want to get off on the wrong foot.”

Okay, be sensible. Dom had set up the elaborate ploy because he wanted her to make contact with Jane MacGuire. He probably wouldn't make a move until she'd—

Probably? God, was she risking a child's life on probabilities? He could be at that house on Luther Street right then. “I want to go tonight.”

“It would be better—” Mark began.

She cut him off. “I just want to make sure everything's okay there. I won't go inside and wake everyone up.”

Mark shrugged and started the car. “Whatever you say.”

THE HOUSE ON
Luther Street was small and gray paint was peeling from the porch steps. But the rest of the house appeared neat and well cared for. Cheerful fake greenery hung from plastic baskets on the porch.

“Satisfied?” Mark asked.

The street was deserted. No cars cruising, no one stirring. Eve wasn't satisfied, but she felt a little better. “I guess so.”

“Good. Then I'll drive you and Joe to his apartment and come back to watch the house.”

“No. I'll stay here.”

“I was expecting that.” Joe reached for his phone. “I'll call for an unmarked car to park out here tonight and have the officer go in immediately if he sees anything out of the ordinary. Okay?”

“I'll stay here too,” Mark said.

She looked at the two of them, undecided. And then she opened the car door. “Okay. If you hear or see anything, you call us.”

“You're going to walk? Let me run you home.”

“We'll get a taxi.”

“In this neighborhood?”

“So we'll walk until we get to where we can find one. I don't want you leaving here.”

Mark looked at Joe. “Will you please tell her she shouldn't be wandering this neighborhood? It's too dangerous.”

“Jane MacGuire wanders around this neighborhood every day of her life,” Eve pointed out. “She manages to survive.” Just as Eve had survived all those years ago. Jesus, it was all coming back to her.

“The car will be here in five minutes.” Joe had finished his call and he and Eve got out of the car. “Don't worry, I'll take care of Eve,” he told Mark. “Or maybe I'll let her take care of me. This is her turf.”

“We'll be back at eight in the morning.” Eve started down the street. Nothing really changed around here. The grass growing in the cracks in the sidewalk, the dirty words chalked on the pavement.

“And how do we get back to civilization from here?” Joe asked as he fell in beside her.

“This is civilization, rich boy,” Eve said. “The real wilds are four blocks south. You'll notice I'm heading north.”

“And where did you live?”

“South. You're a cop. You must be familiar with this area.”

“Not on foot. They shoot at cops in this part of town . . . when they're not killing each other.”

“‘They.' The mysterious ‘they.' We're not all criminals down here. We have to live and survive just like anyone else. Why the hell do you—”

“Hold it. You know damn well who I was talking about. Why are you jumping on me?”

He was right. “Sorry. Forget it.”

“I don't think we'd better forget it. You were talking as if you were still living in one of those houses on Luther Street.”

“I was never lucky enough to live on Luther Street. I told you, this is uptown.”

“You know what I mean.”

She did know. “I haven't been down here since we moved out after Bonnie was born. I didn't think I'd react like this.”

“Like what?”

“I was feeling like the kid I was all those years ago.” She smiled ruefully. “I was on the attack.”

“That's how Barbara Eisley described Jane MacGuire.”

“Maybe she has a right to want to strike first.”

“I don't doubt she has every right. I'm merely suggesting that you analyze what being back here has done to you. It's you against the world again.” He added deliberately, “Or maybe you and Jane MacGuire against the world.”

“Nonsense. I've never even met the child.”

“Maybe you shouldn't meet her. Why don't you let me go see her alone in the morning.”

She turned to face him. “What are you saying?”

“Why did Dom choose someone from this neighborhood? Why did he bring you back here? Think about it.”

She walked in silence for a moment. “He wants me to identify with her,” she whispered. Christ, she was already identifying with the little girl. She and Jane had walked the same streets, suffered abandonment and hardship, fought their way through loneliness and hurt. “He's setting me up. First talking to me about reincarnation and then choosing Jane MacGuire. He's not satisfied with killing a child and laying the guilt on my doorstep. He wants me emotionally involved with her.”

“That's the way I figure it.”

Bastard. “He wants me to feel as if he's killing my daughter all over again.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “He wants to kill Bonnie again.”

“And that's why you shouldn't go near Jane MacGuire. You're already forming an attachment and you've not even met her.”

“I can keep her at a distance.”

“Sure.”

“It won't be that difficult, Joe. Not if she's like me at that age. I wasn't exactly approachable.”

“I would have approached you.”

“And I would have spit in your eye.”

“It's not a good idea for you to see her.”

“I have to do it.”

“I know,” Joe said grimly. “He hasn't left you any way out.”

No way out.

Of course there would be a way out. She had fought her way out of this neighborhood. She had fought her way back to sanity after Bonnie had been killed. She wouldn't let that son of a bitch trap her now. Joe was wrong. She loved kids, but she was no bleeding heart. She could save Jane MacGuire's life and beat that monster. All she had to do was keep at a distance a little girl she didn't even know.

But Dom wouldn't keep Jane at a distance. His shadow was already looming over her.

Don't think about it. Tomorrow she and Joe would talk to Fay Sugarton. Tonight Jane MacGuire was under guard and sleeping peacefully.

The little girl would be safe tonight.

Maybe.

“
I
'
VE BEEN LOOKING
for you, Mike. I told you to go to the alley near the mission.” Jane sat down near the big cardboard box. “It's not good here.”

“I like it,” Mike said.

“It's safer where there are people.”

“This is closer to home.” Mike eagerly reached for the paper bag she held out to him. “Hamburgers?”

“Spaghetti.”

“I like hamburgers better.”

“I have to take what I can get.” What she could steal, really. Well, it wasn't exactly stealing, was it? Cusanelli's gave its leftovers to Meals on Wheels or the Salvation Army instead of throwing them out. “Eat it and then go over to the mission.”

He was already eating the spaghetti. “Why did you come so late?”

“I had to wait until the restaurant closed.” She stood up. “I've got to get back.”

“Now?” He was disappointed.

“If you'd been at the mission, I could have stayed a few minutes. It's too late now.”

“You said Fay slept hard and wouldn't wake up.”

Maybe. “I have to go climb in the kitchen window. Chang and Raoul have the room next door to the kitchen.”

“I don't want to get you in trouble.”

But he was lonely and wanted her to stay. She sighed and sat back down. “Just until you finish.” She leaned against the brick wall. “But you got to go to the mission alley. It's not good to be alone. There are all kinds of creeps around who could hurt you.”

“I always run away like you told me.”

“But there's no one to hear you if you call out.”

“I'm okay. I ain't scared.”

She knew she couldn't make him understand. Fear was where his father lived. Everywhere else was safe in comparison. Maybe it would be okay tonight. She hadn't seen that creep for a couple of days. “How long does your father usually stay when he comes back?”

“A week, maybe two.”

“It's already been a week. Maybe he's gone.”

Mike shook his head. “I checked after school yesterday. He was on the porch with Mom. But he didn't see me.”

“Did your mom?”

“I think so, but she looked away real quick.” He stared down at the spaghetti. “It ain't her fault. She's scared too.”

“Yeah.”

“It will be just fine once he goes away again.”

It wouldn't be fine. Mike's mom was one of the hookers who worked Peachtree, and she was gone more than she was home, but he still defended her. It always surprised Jane how kids could never see their parents the way they really were. “Are you finished with that spaghetti?”

“Not yet.”

He had a bite left, but he wasn't eating because he wanted her to stay.

“Tell me about the stars again.”

“You could find out for yourself if you learn to read. It's all in that book of legends in the school library. You got to learn to read, Mike, and you can't learn if you don't go to school.”

“I only skipped once this week. Tell me about that guy on the horse.”

She should go now. She would have only a few hours' sleep before Fay woke her to go to school. Mr. Brett had yelled at her for falling asleep in third period yesterday.

Mike nestled closer.

He was lonely and maybe more scared than he'd said. Oh, well, while she was there she could make sure no creep snuck up on him. “Just a little longer. If you promise me you won't come here anymore.”