Read Shadow Play Online

Authors: Iris Johansen

Shadow Play (6 page)

She rubbed the back of her aching neck. “It seemed the thing to do.”

“I can see why,” he said quietly. “When were you going to tell me there had been another death out there in California?”

Her gaze flew to his face. “I wasn't keeping it from you. I was just so absorbed that I— How did you know?”

“I've been keeping an eye on the doings of your Sheriff Nalchek on the Net. His attitude was unusual, and I don't like unusual when it's connected to you. Unusual can be trouble.”

It shouldn't have surprised her. Joe was always protective, and he hadn't liked Nalchek's persistence. “It's clear he had a right to be concerned.”

“Clear to you. Perhaps clear to me. But not so clear to anyone else. Have you ever run across a cold case like this in which the murderer after eight years was still hovering, ready to leap on anyone investigating the crime?”

“No, but that doesn't mean that it's not true.” She paused. “Nalchek had my dossier in that squad car, and he thinks that whoever killed Carstairs took photos of it.”

Joe went still. “There wasn't any mention of that on the Net. And it's something you should have told me.”

“I'm telling you now.” She inclined her head toward the reconstruction. “And that's an excellent reason why I should get Jenny finished right away.”

“Yes.” His gaze was narrowed on her face. “And is that the only reason?”

“No.” She hadn't wanted to go into this right now. It was too involved. She needed to get back to Jenny. But she had to be honest with Joe. “Unless I've gone wacko, our Jenny is communicating with me.”

“What? How?”

She had to smile. “Only you would accept the fact and just want to know the method.”

“You have me well trained.” He was still frowning. “I've been living with you and your visits from Bonnie all these years. I've even had experiences with her. You have a bond with every child on whom you do a reconstruction, but they don't communicate. The bond just helps you to get an accurate resemblance. Why is this one different?”

“I have no idea.” She held up her hand as he opened his lips to speak. “But she doesn't want to do me any harm. I know it. She's just bewildered and lonely. She's not sure why she's here.”

“Because you're doing her damn reconstruction, and she needs you. Hell, we all need you.”

“She's very strong, Joe. I guess I gave you the impression that she's clinging, but I can feel how strong she is. I don't believe she would have been able to reach me if she didn't have that strength.”

“Good for her. I hope she'll find her home and Nalchek finds her killer. But I want to be sure that you're not damaged in the process.” He looked down at the reconstruction. “Finish her. Send her on her way.” He turned and headed for the door. “In the meantime, I'll take a look around the woods and make sure that we don't have any visitors.”

The door shut firmly behind him.

She shook her head as she stared after him. Joe was definitely on the alert and moving with his usual efficiency.


He doesn't want me here,
” Jenny said. “
Why does he think I'll hurt you?

“He doesn't. He's just cautious. When you care about someone, you always want to be sure that they're safe. I'm sure your parents were like that with you.”


I don't think so. I don't remember anyone's being like him.

She chuckled. “Because there is no one like him. He stands alone.”


You feel … warm … toward him. Like standing before a fireplace and just toasting. It's nice.

“I feel many things toward him. And they're all nice.” She thought about it. “Well, mostly nice. He's very stubborn, and that can be annoying.”


But it doesn't stop the warmth.

“No, it doesn't stop that. Nothing stops that.” She turned toward the reconstruction. “Now be quiet while I get back to work.”


Okay. I was just curious
.”

And Jenny's interruption had the gentleness and familiarity of an old friend whispering in her ear. “Children are always curious.”


I don't know if I'm a child anymore. Am I?

If Jenny had lived, she would be seventeen now. She had missed so much … “I don't know. My Bonnie says that she couldn't stand still when she crossed over, that she kept maturing. I imagine it might be the same for you. But that doesn't mean you might not be a little stunted as far as experiences are concerned. I guess that depends on what you've been doing for the last eight years.”


Waiting. I've been waiting…”

Waiting for what? To be brought home to the people she loved? To get justice for the terrible crime perpetrated against her? The words struck Eve as terribly sad, and again she had the urge to reach out and hold her.

Back off. Jenny was coming too close to her. She forced herself to go back to working on the depth markers on the reconstruction. “Then wait a little longer, Jenny. We're getting there. Just a little longer…”

*   *   *

The lights were burning bright in the cottage even though it was after midnight.

Walsh didn't dare get closer to the cottage than these trees across the lake, and it was filling him with frustration. But Joe Quinn had been out in the woods twice tonight, and he couldn't risk it. He'd read Quinn's dossier, and an ex-SEAL wasn't going to be taken by surprise like that deputy. He'd have to wait for an opportunity.

As he'd have to wait for the opportunity to go after Eve Duncan. But time was running out. She might be getting close.

Walsh could imagine that Duncan bitch sitting working on that damn skull and making that kid's face come alive again. Damn Nalchek. Any other small-town sheriff would have just let that skeleton be reburied somewhere and eventually filed the paperwork and let the little girl be forgotten.

But Eve Duncan wasn't going to let her be forgotten.

So Eve Duncan would have to be removed.

*   *   *

“Okay, here we go.” Eve could feel the tension grip her muscles as she stared at the reconstruction. “I've done all the prep work I can. It's time we started working together on this.”

No answer.

“Listen, Jenny, this isn't the time for you to opt out. Help me.”

No answer.

Ignore the rejection and hope she would come in later.

Smooth the clay.

Such a small skull.

So delicate …

She had to be sensitive, gentle.

No mistakes.

She let the tips of her fingers move of their own volition.

Help me, Jenny.

The clay was cool … no, it was warmer now. As warm as her own fingers moving, molding.

Nose?

It had to be generic.

Instinct. Just use instinct.

Mouth.

Generic again. She'd measured the width but had to guess at the shape. A child's mouth, sensitive, because Jenny was so sensitive.

Eyes. So very difficult. No measurements, very few scientific indicators. Okay, study the shape and the angle of the orbits. That angle and the bony ridge above it would help her decide the shape. Keep them in mind but don't do the eyes yet. It always made her excited to see the eyes staring at her, and she might hurry the rest of the process.

Do the cheeks.

Fill in.

Smooth.

The other cheek.

Smooth.

She was going too fast. Slow down. Measurements were still important. Check them.

Nose width. Okay.

Lip height. Okay. No, bring the top lip down. It's usually thinner than the bottom.

There's a major muscle around the mouth, build it up.

But Jenny was a child and would have a child's fullness.

No, thin face.

Where had that come from? It didn't matter if it was instinct or Jenny.

Just go with it.

Mold.

Smooth.

Fill in.

Her hands were flying over that small face now.

Deepen.

Mold.

Smooth.

Fill in.

The chin.

More pointed.

Smooth.

Brows.

Winged.

Odd. Why?

Just do it.

Slow down. Her hands were too feverish.

No, they aren't.

Go ahead.

Smooth.

Mold.

Fill in.

But there was only a little more to fill in.

Smooth it.

Mold?

No, just the smoothing.

Fast.

Sure.

Let it come.

Let
her
come.

Blinding speed. Her heart was beating hard.

The reconstruction was only a blur.

Finished.

She leaned back, and her hands dropped away from the skull.

Only it wasn't a skull any longer.

It was Jenny.

No, not yet.

She reached into the drawer and drew out her eye case.

Eyes.

Jenny had to have eyes.

Eve looked down at the glass eyeballs. She usually chose brown, they were the most common.

She started to reach for them.


Green.

Eve stopped. “Now you appear. I could have used a little more help, Jenny.”


I tried to help. It was hard to remember … It's not important here where I am now.

“Well, it's still important to me.” She took the green eyes from the case. “And it's important to Sheriff Nalchek.” She paused. “And it may be important to the person who put you in that grave.”


But you did pretty well without me, didn't you? You must be very smart, Eve.

“Flattery? You must be fairly smart yourself, Jenny.” She was inserting the right eye carefully in the right cavity. “Green eyes are very noticeable. That might help. Who did you take after? Your mother or your father?”


I don't know. They're not … I don't remember.

Distress. Veer away from the pain she sensed. “It doesn't matter.” She inserted the other eyeball and smoothed the clay around the orbital cavity. “What's important is that the eyes might trigger a memory that—”

She broke off and inhaled sharply.

Finished. The reconstruction was completely finished.

And the full impact of the work that she'd just done hit home to her.

“Jenny?”

She reached out and gently touched the cheek of the sculpture. She almost expected it to be warm with life. The little girl's expression seemed to radiate vitality and enthusiasm. Even those wide-set green eyes seemed to glow with a kind of wonder in that small, triangular face. Pointed chin, high cheekbones, and winged brows gave the child an elfin quality. But it was the vitality, the wonder, that held Eve spellbound.

And some monster had killed this?

She cleared her throat to ease its tightness. “Perhaps you helped me more than either one of us thought, Jenny. I believe you must have been a very special little girl. I'd bet you enjoyed every minute of your life. I'm sorry you don't remember more of it.”


I don't have to remember. The joy has been with me while I was waiting. The most important thing I got to take with me.

“What thing?”


Why, the music, Eve. It's still part of me. It's still here.

“Music? What do you mean, Jenny?”

No answer.

“Okay, I guess I shouldn't expect more than one breakthrough at a time.” She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. “And tonight I got a big one. I have a face. Tomorrow, I'll take photos and run it through my computer program for any matches. The program isn't as extensive as FBI and police databases, but I might get lucky.”


You're happy. I like to see you like this.

“I did my job, and I came up with one great product. It gives me a sense of satisfaction to know what you look like. It's like solving a mystery. Now I know to whom I'm talking.”


It's not only because of what happened to me?

“No, a whisper from the great beyond is better than nothing, but I'm a visual person.” She looked back at the reconstruction. “You know, sometimes I don't even do brows but you must have been insistent.” She got to her feet and arched her back. “And now I'm going to shower and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning.” She had a sudden thought. “Or not. Maybe you'll disappear now that I've finished your reconstruction.”


I'll be here.

“Oh.” Why did she feel this relief? “You and the music?”


You're smiling. I'm sorry I can't explain about the music. It's just that—

“You don't have to explain anything unless you want to. We're just ships that pass in the night. I don't have to know. You've been hurt, and you're in a place I can't possibly understand.”


Ships that pass … I don't think so, Eve.

“Time will tell.”


You're going to bed with your Joe again?

“Absolutely.”


You were very happy at what he was doing to your body that first night I came. Are you going to do that again?

Her mouth fell open. “What?” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. Jenny, I had no idea you were— Do you know what a peeping Tom is?”


Yes.

“That's what you did when you watched me and Joe—” But did she watch? Was she just attuned to Eve and aware of her feelings? “Whatever you did, that was a private moment and not to be shared without invitation. Do you understand?”


But I liked it. It was … happy and excited.

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