The Killing Game (5 page)

What Sandra had done was come to terms with her view of reality, and it was obviously bringing her happiness. Well, more power to her. Eve ignored the tiny flicker of envy and said, “I'm not avoiding reality. I'm just trying to find my daughter and put her to rest.”

Sandra sighed. “Okay, do what you have to do. Call me if I can help.”

“You know I will.” Sandra was frowning, so Eve reached over and affectionately squeezed her arm. “It's not going to be that bad. The reconstruction will take only a few days, and then I'll know.”

Sandra grimaced. “A few days can sometimes seem like a century.”

EVE DUNCAN.

Dom studied her photograph in the newspaper. Curly red-brown hair framed a face that was more fascinating than pretty. Hazel eyes gazed at the world from behind round gold-rimmed glasses. He remembered seeing this picture in the paper last year and thinking how she had changed from that desperate woman at the Fraser trial. The older Eve Duncan looked stronger, more confident. A woman whose determination could move mountains and topple governments.

And now she was turning that determination in his direction. Of course, she didn't know it was his direction. She wanted only to find her child—which made her just as vulnerable as she had been all those years before.

He had actually considered her as a kill back then but had dismissed the idea almost immediately because of the notoriety of the Fraser trial. She had been too visible and there were enough satisfying, less risky kills.

But the satisfaction was waning.

He could correct that problem now, he thought with relief. Eve Duncan was strong enough to challenge and purge him. He would tread carefully with her, inject each moment with every possible drop of emotion, build slowly so the final explosion would be strong enough to clear away all the deadness and debris inside him.

He had a strong belief in fate and was beginning to think Eve Duncan had been put at this place and time just for him. It was lucky he had ignored temptation when she first passed through his life. Then she would have been only an ordinary kill, no more important than any other.

Now she could be his salvation.

C                  H                  A                  P                  T                  E                  R

THREE

“Nice.” Sandra's gaze traveled over the cottage and then down to the boat dock. “I like this, Joe.”

“Then why didn't you come here all the times I invited you?” Joe started unloading luggage from the trunk.

“You know I'm city born and bred.” Sandra drew a deep breath. “But I could tolerate this. Eve should have told me about that beautiful view of the lake.”

“I did,” Eve said. “You wouldn't have any of it.”

“Well, it is pretty isolated. Aren't there any other houses on the lake?”

“No, Joe bought the lake and surrounding acreage and won't sell any of it.”

Sandra grinned at Joe. “How unfriendly of you.”

“I like privacy when I'm up here.” He closed the trunk. “I get enough of people when I'm in the city. I kept the title in the name of my trust and no one knows I own this place. Not even the department.” He smiled at Eve. “Except a few chosen friends.”

“Well, at least the cottage looks nice and friendly,” Sandra said.

Eve had always liked the A-frame. It was small and cozy and had plenty of windows that welcomed the sun and the outdoors. “Come on in and see the inside.”

“I have to get back to the city. Ron worries when I don't show up for dinner.”

“You could call him.”

Sandra shook her head. “Hey, I'm not stupid. I don't want him getting used to eating alone. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll talk then.” She gave Eve a long hug. “Welcome home, baby. I've missed you.” She stepped back and looked at Joe. “Do you need a lift back to town?”

“I have a Jeep up here. I'll use that. Thanks, Sandra.”

“No problem.” Sandra got back in the driver's seat and started the car. “See you soon.”

Eve watched the car disappear down the gravel road, then helped Joe carry the luggage up the porch steps.

“You know, I don't get it.” He shook his head. “You two haven't seen each other for over a year, and she goes off to dinner with her boyfriend and it's okay with you?”

“You don't have to get it. We understand each other.” No one who had not been there during her hellish childhood would be able to empathize. The scars were still there and they would never go away, but she and Sandra had built on them and forged a bond they could live with. “Mom has never had a stable relationship before. She has a right to protect it. She's really hooked, isn't she?”

“Yep.” He unlocked the door. “But she doesn't appear to mind.”

“No.” Eve paused. “It will seem strange not to have Diane here.”

“Why? You came here before I was married. Diane never really liked this place. She preferred civilization.”

She glanced around and remembered how Joe's retriever had always bounded up to greet her. “Where's George? Is he in the city apartment?”

“No, Diane has him. I'm never home. He's better off with her.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Yeah, it was. I love that dog.” He opened the door and gestured to a corner of the room.

“Good God.” Video cameras, a computer, a worktable and pedestal. “Where did you get all this?”

“I raided your lab in town and brought out all the equipment the insurance company replaced after it was trashed last year. I think I got everything.”

“I think you did too.” She went inside. “You seem to have met all my needs.”

“My goal in life,” he said lightly. “I stocked the house with food too. It's chilly in here.” He crossed to the fireplace and knelt before the logs. “I'll light the fire before I leave.”

“You're not staying?”

He shook his head. “Reporters are looking for you. It will be hard to trace the cabin but not impossible. I have to find a way to cast out a few red herrings.” He paused. “And I'm going to tell Sandra not to come up here until you've finished the job. She might be followed. If you want to catch up on everything, do it on the telephone. Okay?”

“Okay.” He had mentioned everything except what was most important. “And when do I get the skull?”

“Tomorrow. It's still at Georgia State with Dr. Comden, the anthropologist who did the report. I'll get a release from the department, pick it up tomorrow morning, and bring the skull with me in the afternoon. If there's any change of plan, I'll call you.” He moved toward the door. “In the meantime, try to get some sleep. You didn't doze more than an hour on the flight over.”

“Okay.” She added deliberately, “But first I'm going to call Logan and tell him we've arrived safely.”

“He won't expect it.”

“But he'll appreciate it. I'm not going to shut him out of my life just because we're not together anymore. He deserves more than that.”

Joe shrugged. “I'm not going to argue with you. Just don't let him upset you. You need to rest.”

“I'll rest.”

“I mean it. Neither one of us knows how you're going to react when you see that kid's skull. Exhaustion won't help. I don't want you going to pieces.”

“I won't go to pieces.”

“Get some sleep,” he repeated. The door shut behind him.

She went to the window and watched him stride around the cottage toward the garage, where he kept the Jeep. A few minutes later it appeared in the driveway and then disappeared from view down the road.

She was alone.

The sunlight suddenly seemed weaker, colder, as it touched the lake. On the far bank, pine trees cast shadows that blended and formed a dark blanket. She shivered, then moved over to the blazing fire and held out her hands. The warmth was welcome, chasing away the chill that had attacked her.

Imagination. Everything was as it was before Mom and Joe had left. Eve just wasn't accustomed to being alone any longer. On the island she had seldom been by herself. Even when she was working, Logan was never more than five minutes away.

Face it. The chill hadn't come from loneliness but from dread and nervousness. She was no more sure than Joe of how she would react to having that skull in her hands. If she would be able to close out the horror and be totally professional.

Of course she would. She owed it to Bonnie.

Or whoever the little girl might be. She mustn't think of her as Bonnie, or her hands and mind might play tricks on her. She had to view the skull with total detachment.

But when had she ever been able to do that? she wondered ruefully. Every reconstruction concerning a lost child was heart-wrenching, leaving her emotionally drained by the time she finished. But she had to control all emotion this time. It was absolutely necessary not to let herself fall into that dark pit.

Keep busy. Don't think about what awaited her. She reached for the telephone and dialed Logan's digital number. No answer. The call went to his voice mail.

“Hi, Logan, just calling to tell you that I'm at Joe's cottage. I'm fine and I'm going to get the skull tomorrow. I hope everything's well with you. Take care.” She hung up.

Not being able to touch base with Logan made her feel even more isolated. That safe, sane life with Logan seemed so far away already and was growing more distant with every second.

For God's sake, snap out of it. She'd go for a walk along the lake and tire herself so that she'd sleep.

All the clothes in her suitcases were tropical, so she went into Joe's bedroom and found jeans and a flannel shirt. She put on her own tennis shoes and grabbed Joe's windbreaker. A moment later she was out the door and going down the steps.

SHE WAS ALONE.

Dom watched Eve Duncan stride briskly down the path to the lake. Her hands were in the jacket pockets and there was a faint frown on her face.

She was taller than he remembered but appeared very fragile in the oversize jacket. She wasn't fragile. He could see that in the way she moved, the set of her chin. Strength was often more of the spirit than the body. He'd had kills that should have succumbed immediately but had fought ferociously. She would be such a one.

All that subterfuge at the airport had been interesting, but he had been a stalker too long to be taken in by it. He had learned a long time ago that you had to keep one step ahead if you were going to reap your reward.

And that reward was almost in his grasp. Now that he knew Eve Duncan's whereabouts, he could put the game in play.

Georgia State University

“Good morning, Joe. Could I talk to you a minute?”

Joe stiffened as he recognized the tall man straightening away from a wall of the Science Building. “I'm not answering any questions, Mark.”

Mark Grunard smiled engagingly. “I said talk, not question. Though if you really feel you need to open up and—”

“What are you doing here?”

“It wasn't difficult to figure out that you'd come here to pick up the skull. I'm only glad my fellow journalists are too busy trying to track down Eve Duncan. Now I have you all to myself.”

Joe silently cursed the Atlanta PD for releasing the whereabouts of the skeleton. “The hell you do. No story, Mark.”

“Do you mind if I walk you down the hall to Dr. Comden's office? I'll take off the minute we reach the lab. I have a proposition for you.”

“What are you up to, Mark?”

“Something beneficial to both of us.” He fell into step with Joe. “Will you listen?”

Joe studied him. Mark Grunard had always impressed him as being both honest and smart. “I'll listen.”

“
YOU CAME FOR
the kid?” Dr. Phil Comden rose to his feet and shook Joe's hand. “Sorry I didn't have much on my report.” He moved toward the door at the end of the corridor. “I read that Eve Duncan is doing the reconstruction.”

“Yes.”

“You know facial reconstruction won't stand up in a court of law. You should wait for the DNA.”

“It's going to take too long.”

“I guess so.” He led Joe into the lab toward a bank of drawers similar to ones used in morgues. “You just want the skull?”

“Yes, you can return the rest of the skeleton to the Pathology Department.”

“She thinks this is her kid?”

“She thinks there's a possibility.”

“Bummer.” He reached for the drawer handle and pulled it open. “You know when you're working on one of these kids you can't help but think about how they—shit!”

Joe pushed him aside and looked down into the drawer.

EVE ANSWERED THE
phone on the first ring.

“It's gone,” Joe said harshly.

“What?”

“The skeleton's gone.”

She went rigid with shock. “How could that be?”

“How the hell do I know? Dr. Comden says the skeleton was in the drawer last night when he left the lab. It wasn't there at noon today.”

She tried to think. “Could the Pathology Department have picked it up?”

“Dr. Comden would have had to sign the release.”

“Maybe there was some foul-up and they picked it up without getting—”

“I called Basil. No one was authorized to pick up the skeleton.”

She was dazed. “Someone has to—”

“I'm trying to find out where the snafu is. I just didn't want you to wait around for me to bring it to you. I'll call you when I know something.”

“She's . . . lost again?”

“I'll find her.” He paused. “It could be a macabre joke. You know how college kids can be.”

“You think one of the students stole the skeleton?”

“That's what Dr. Comden's guessing.”

She closed her eyes. “Oh, my God.”

“We'll get it back, Eve. I'm questioning everyone who was near the lab last night and today.”

“Okay,” she said numbly.

“I'll call you when I know something,” he repeated, then hung up.

Eve put down the receiver. She mustn't get upset. Joe would find the skeleton. Dr. Comden was probably right. It must be some kid who thought it hilarious to pull such a prank and—

The phone rang. Joe again?

“Hello.”

“She was a pretty little girl, wasn't she?”

“What?”

“You must have been very proud of your Bonnie.”

She froze. “Who is this?”

“I had trouble remembering her. There have been so many. But I should have remembered her. She was special. She fought for her life. Do you know that children very seldom struggle? They just accept. That's why I seldom choose them anymore. It's like killing a bird.”

“Who is this?”

“They flutter and then go quiet. Bonnie wasn't like that.”

“You lying son of a bitch,” she said hoarsely. “What kind of sicko are you?”

“Not the usual kind, I assure you. Not like Fraser. Though I do have an ego, I never take credit for someone else's kills.”

She felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. “Fraser did kill my daughter.”

“Did he? Then why didn't he tell you where her body was? Where all the bodies were?”

“Because he was cruel.”

“Because he didn't know.”

“He knew. He just wanted to make us suffer.”

“That's true. But he also wanted to increase his notoriety by confessing to kills he had no business claiming. At first I was irritated, and then amused. I even spoke to him in jail. I'd left a message saying I was a newspaper reporter and he wasn't going to let that chance go by. When he called me back, I gave him a few more details to feed the police.”

“He was caught in the act of killing Teddy Simes.”

“I didn't say he was totally blameless. Actually, he had legitimate claim to the Simes boy and four others. But the rest were mine.” He paused. “Including little Bonnie Duncan.”

Eve was shaking so badly, she could scarcely hold the receiver. She had to control herself. It was a crank call. Some pervert who wanted to hurt her. She'd gotten a few similar calls during Fraser's trial. But this man sounded so calm, so sure, almost indifferent. Make him talk. Make him prove he was lying. “You said you don't like to kill children.”

“I was experimenting at that point. I was trying to see if they were worthwhile pursuing on a regular basis. Bonnie almost convinced me of it, but the next two were a terrible disappointment.”

“Why—are you—calling me?”

“Because we have a bond, don't we? We have Bonnie.”