Silencing Eve

  He shook his head. “Does that put me beyond the pale in your eyes?”

  “No, my father was an American soldier who deserted my mother before I was born. My mother was a whore, who was hooked on drugs and let me fend for myself on the streets. I don’t have any faith in family or obligation. But some people do. I hoped that you might be one of them. Because that would mean Eve has a better chance of surviving.”

  He nodded mockingly. “My regrets.”

  “Not accepted. Because even if you don’t give a damn that Eve is your daughter, if you talked to her for any time at all, you know what kind of person she is. She deserves to live.” She met his eyes. “And you seem to be in the best position to keep her alive. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Really? Interesting.” He sat down opposite her. “And what is your purpose, Agent Ling? Do you intend to try to intimidate me into doing as you wish?”

  “Catherine. I’m not CIA right now, I’m Eve’s friend,” she said. “And if you can’t act like a father, you should try to be her friend, too.” She added, “And stop being sarcastic. You can’t be intimidated. I don’t even know if you’d care if you lived or died.” She tilted her head. “I’m curious. Would you?”

  “Sometimes. It depends on the moment. How about you?”

  “Most of my moments are pretty damn good now. I have my son back.”

  His brows rose. “If you’re not here to force me to your will, why did you come here, Catherine?”

  “Venable said that you might be able to locate Doane by hacking security and traffic cameras and that he might still be in the area. I wanted to be on the spot if that happened.” She paused. “And Doane wants you dead, and that gives me another reason to be here.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I’m going to be your bodyguard.”

  She heard Stang give a strangled gasp across the room.

  Zander’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m going to take care of you,” she said simply. “I can’t let Doane kill you. You told Venable that Doane said he wanted to kill Eve in front of you. To keep Eve alive, I have to keep you alive.”

  “Did it occur to you that I might be able to take care of myself?”

  “Yes, but I can’t take the risk.” Her jaw set with determination. “I won’t let Eve die because I left her fate up to a man I’m not sure gives a damn. So suck it up, Zander. You’re stuck with me.”

  He gazed at her for a long moment, and she had no idea what he was thinking. “The hell I am,” he said softly. “Do you realize how easily I could dispose of you?”

  “I realize you’re an expert. But it wouldn’t be easy, Zander.”

  He didn’t speak for another minute. “No, I don’t think it would.” He leaned back in the chair. “Tell me, do you wear a knife in a holster on your calf?”

  “What?” she asked in surprise. “Sometimes.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, I didn’t know what to expect. Why?”

  “Just something Eve told me about you. I was trying to fasten a knife on her calf and she said that she wasn’t like you and that you’d be more prepared.”

  “You gave her a knife?”

  “It seemed to be the thing to do at the time. Of course, then I sent her off to face her fate with Doane. So don’t think I was being particularly generous to her.”

  “I won’t.” She paused. “But maybe you were, considering what a cold bastard you seem to be.” She got to her feet. “May I go to the bathroom and freshen up? I just flew in from Atlanta and came straight here.”

  “By all means.” He nodded at a door leading off the sitting room. “Make yourself at home.”

  “Oh, I intend to do that.” She headed for the door he’d indicated. “And you might call housekeeping and get me a cot. Of course, I can always sleep on that sofa.”

  “You really meant it.” He was gazing at her quizzically. “You’re moving in.”

  “It’s the most practical thing to do. I have to be near you.” She tensed, waiting for the response.

  “You’re being absurd, you know. And you could be very annoying. You have that potential.”

  “Yes, I do. But I’m competent, reasonably intelligent, and I’m possibly the most stubborn person you’ve ever met. So unless you intend to drop me off that balcony over there, you’re not going to get rid of me.”

  “Tempting,” he murmured.

  “I’m sure it is.” She paused at the door. “So make up your mind.”

  He gazed at her without expression. “I object to destroying lovely pieces of art unless necessary. I’ll keep you around until you annoy me too much.” He added as he got to his feet, “But if I find that you’re neither helpful nor as competent as you claim, that time will come sooner rather than later.” He glanced at Stang. “Confrontation over, Stang. We’ll keep her around.” He turned and strolled back out on the balcony.

  Catherine’s gaze followed him. “Why do I feel like a stray puppy tossed over to you to watch, Stang?”

  “You should be grateful,” Stang said dryly. “And take into account that he meant what he said. You took a chance.”

  She had been aware of that threat the entire time she had been with Zander. “Life is full of chances. You just have to turn them into opportunities.” She opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out in a few minutes, and you can show me the process of what you’re doing to monitor those cameras. Do you know you’re looking for a Toyota 4-Runner with a dented left fender?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you didn’t hear it from Venable.”

  He shook his head. “Zander never trusts one source, particularly if it’s government connected.”

  “Very intelligent.” She added, “And, after we go over the cameras, then I want you to go over the security measures in place here.”

  “Security?” He looked at her in amazement. “You really meant what you said about protecting Zander?”

  “I don’t usually say things I don’t mean.” She cast a glance at the door to the balcony. “He knew I meant it. That’s why he was so pissed at me. That’s the moment when it was touch-and-go.”

  “You’re underestimating Zander. You may not have even reached that point yet,” Stang said. “And I’m not looking forward to the time that you do. You seem sincere about wanting to help Eve Duncan.”

  “And are you sincere, Stang?”

  “Oh, yes. And, like you, I’ve run a few risks because I wanted Zander to be more involved.” He turned at a knock on the door and moved to answer it. “That must be your tea. I’m sure that you can spare time to drink it before you go about saving Zander…”

  CHAPTER

  7

  Starlite Motel

  Casper, Wyoming

  “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FINISH?” Doane asked impatiently as he watched Eve’s hands carefully smoothing the clay down one cheek of Kevin’s reconstruction. “I thought you’d be done by noon today. Are you stalling?”

  “Why should I be stalling? Do you think that I’m particularly fond of this tiny room? The sooner we get on the road, the better.” She glanced at him. “If somebody recognizes you, I’ll at least have a chance of getting away from you.”

  “But I’m a dead man.” He smiled. “No one is looking for me … or you.”

  “That’s right.” She looked back at the reconstruction. “How could I forget? Hope springs eternal.”

  “He looks almost done. I’m tired of waiting.” He was gazing at the skull in discontent. “I’ll get the eyeballs. I have them safely tucked in a handkerchief in my suitcase.”

  “Forty more minutes.” She met his eyes. “Do you believe I enjoy working on him? This is the third time I’ve had to make repairs on your Kevin’s skull. And this time you didn’t even salvage enough clay for me to do the job right. That makes it twice as hard to fill in and smooth.” She had to turn his impatience into anger, so that he’d seek a release. It was the only way she could to think to get him out of
the room. “Did it ever occur to you that it’s a bad omen, and your son’s skull should just be tossed in the nearest garbage can?”

  “Bitch.” His hand dug into her hair and he jerked her head back.

  Pain.

  “No?” she asked. “Well, he’ll be just as much a piece of garbage if you don’t let me finish him properly.” She glared up at him. “But what do I care? You want trash, I’ll give you trash.”

  He cursed and gave her hair one more vicious twist before he released it. “It’s your fault you had to keep doing him over. You showed him no respect. You could have done him permanent damage by tossing that skull off the cliff while we were in the mountains.”

  “I can but try,” she murmured.

  He took a step toward her, then stopped. “Finish him. I’ll give you thirty minutes.” He handcuffed her right wrist to the chair. “I’ve got to get gas for the car at the motel gas station. I can keep an eye on the door of this unit from there. When I come back, you’d better be finished, or I’ll beat you unconscious.”

  She looked down at the handcuffs. “This will be awkward working.”

  “Finish him.” The door slammed behind him.

  She drew a deep, relieved breath.

  Okay, get to work.

  She took some of the clay from the skull’s reconstruction, not too much or Doane would know it was missing. She’d been telling the truth about the scarcity of materials. Then she flattened the clay out on the table. She took her spatula and started to write on the clay.

  Not too deep or it would break apart.

  A capital S, small e, and then WA. No room for anything else.

  Seattle, Washington. Would it be clear to anyone looking for a direction? It was as close as she could come.

  The S looked more like an eight. She’d have to do it over.

  It broke apart when she tried to alter it.

  Keep calm.

  Only ten minutes had passed.

  She still had time.

  She carefully meshed the clay together and started over again.

  * * *

  STANG RUSHED INTO THE sitting room.

  “We’ve got another hit.” He threw a map of Wyoming down on the desk in front of Zander. “Casper, Wyoming.”

  “Where?” Catherine jumped up from her chair and was across the room in three strides. “What part of the city?”

  “Outskirts.” Stang was looking at the computer 3-D map of the city. “Weiner says the camera was across the road at a tire store.” He pointed at the building. “But it still photographed the motel gas station across the way.” He pointed at four pumps. “There.”

  “Has Weiner verified?” Zander asked.

  “Yes, he says it’s the same vehicle he saw at the Colorado border. But we only got a visual for about ten minutes. Then it moved on and out of camera range.”

  “On the road?”

  “No.” He smiled. “It moved to the north in the parking lot and seemed to be going around a corner.”

  Catherine tensed as she gazed down at the map. “The motel,” she said. “He’s at the motel.”

  “That’s my bet.”

  Zander was on his feet and heading for the door. “And mine. Stang, tell the helicopter pilot I’ll be up on the roof in three minutes and to set a course for Casper, Wyoming.”

  Catherine was right behind him. “How long will it take?”

  “Probably thirty minutes.”

  Excitement was tingling through her. Thirty minutes, and they had a chance of getting to Eve. But anything could happen in thirty minutes, and she’d seen victory turned to defeat too many times to take it for granted. “I’m calling Venable and telling him to have the state police start surveillance of the motel.”

  “Your choice,” Zander said. “But one mistake, and we’ve lost him again. Are you willing to put Eve’s life on the line if one of those troopers isn’t as sharp as you’d want him to be?”

  “No.” She looked him in the eye. “Okay, but I’m going with you in that helicopter, Zander. What you know, I’m going to know.”

  He gazed at her for a moment. “Have it your own way. You’re not stupid, and you impress me as being fairly lethal. I can see why Eve trusted you.” He added softly, “But don’t get in my way, Catherine.”

  “I won’t get in your way.” She passed him in the hall and punched the button for the elevator. “As long as you don’t get in mine, Zander.”

  Casper, Wyoming

  A SOUND AT THE DOOR of the motel.

  Doane!

  Panic iced through Eve.

  No! It was too soon. She wasn’t ready.

  She jerked her hand from beneath the table where she’d been painstakingly sticking the clay to the underside. Carefully enough? What if it tore loose and fell to the floor?

  It would have to do.

  She quickly moved the spatula across the face of the reconstruction, smoothing, filling. She deliberately jabbed the spatula into the lower mid-therum area beneath the nose as the door opened.

  “Damn!” She turned to glare at Doane as he came into the room. “I told you these cuffs would make me clumsy.” She jerked her head at the indentation she’d made. “Now let me go, and I’ll try to smooth the clay.”

  He unlocked the cuffs. “You really chopped up that clay.”

  “What do you expect?” She worked quickly, skillfully, to smooth over the place where she’d stolen the clay. “I only had one hand, and I couldn’t—”

  That was good enough. Doane would have to examine it under a magnifying glass to tell the difference from the time he’d walked out of the motel room. She sat back and gazed at the skull. “He’s almost as good as new.” Her lips twisted. “Though there are two words in that sentence that are completely bizarre when applied to your Kevin. He was never good nor new. He’s as old as sin.”

  Doane took out his handkerchief and carefully unwrapped it. “I washed his eyes very carefully.” He held up the glittering blue orbs. “He’s going to be handsome again. In spite of all the harm you’ve done him, he can’t be made anything but magnificent.”

  She looked down at the blue eyeballs shining up at her. This was the part of the reconstruction she dreaded. When she had first placed those eyes in the orbital cavities in the ghost town, it had come as almost a physical shock.

  It wouldn’t be so bad this time. She’d be prepared for it. She quickly inserted the blue eyes.

  It was just as bad. Worse.

  It seemed as if Kevin was glaring at her with supreme malice.

  A wave of nausea swept over her.

  “He always frightens you, doesn’t he?” Doane said softly. “You act so bold, but in the end he makes you want to go and hide.”

  “This skull doesn’t frighten me. Neither does the thought of your son.” She forced herself to look into those glass eyes. “He’s dead. He has no power. He can’t hurt anyone any longer.”

  “Tell that to the people in those cities that are going to be blown into the stratosphere. Tell them that Kevin has no power. Tell that to Zander at the moment that I kill him.” He gazed lovingly at the reconstruction. “She brought you back again, Kevin. I made her do it, just as you said I should.”

  “Excuse me, your raving is making me ill.” She got to her feet. “And I have to go to the bathroom and wash this clay off my hands.” She picked up the hand towel she’d been using to wipe her hands and carried it toward the bathroom. Just as she opened the bathroom door, she deliberately dropped the towel and knelt to pick it up. From her position, she could see underneath the table to where she’d stuck the clay.

  Damn, it was hanging precariously by one end of the piece of clay.

  Maybe it would hold.

  She snatched the towel up and slammed the bathroom door behind her. She quickly washed her hands of the clay, and then washed her face.

  “Hurry up. You’re wasting time. We’re leaving.”

  She opened the door.

  Doane was at the table, almost direct
ly in front of the place where she’d stuck the clay. He seemed to be cleaning the surface of clay traces and all her work debris.

  She stiffened in panic, then tried to hide the reaction. “What are you doing? I’ve never noticed you being particularly fussy about housekeeping before, Doane.”

  “You’re messy as hell, and you leave very distinctive evidences of your occupation that are peculiarly your own.”

  “Only if you’re on the lookout for a forensic sculptor. Let’s face it, it’s not the most popular profession in the world. And you keep bragging that everyone thinks I’m dead.”

  “And that’s the way I want to keep it. I don’t want any questions popping up that might lead anyone to study that explosion at the ghost town more closely. This is what my Kevin would do.” He carefully placed the reconstruction in its leather container, which was much worse for wear from water damage. He glanced at her impatiently. “What are you doing just standing there looking at me?”

  I’m hoping you won’t try to pick up any debris that might have fallen on the floor.

  I’m hoping that the clay piece under the table will stay fixed.

  “What am I supposed to be doing? You tell me that you give the orders.”

  “Throw the clothes I bought you into that cloth grocery bag.” He looked at her critically. “And put on a clean shirt. It’s all stained by that clay, and I don’t want you to attract attention.”

  “As you command. I promise I’ll do you proud, Doane.” She grabbed one of the cheap white tunic shirts Doane had bought at Walmart and ducked back into the bathroom.

  Quick.

  Don’t give him a chance to spend more time cleaning that table.

  And the soiled shirt? Use it.

  She changed the shirt in a matter of seconds and came back into the room. She carried the stained shirt to her bed and packed it into the cloth grocery bag, making sure that a few scraps of dried clay dropped from the shirt onto the bed. She casually pulled the sheet over the clay as she put the grocery bag on the floor. “Anything else?”

  His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re being very accommodating.”

  “I want out of here. I’m sick of being so close to you.” She smiled. “And I want my chance to get away from you. Once we’re on the road, I’ll have that chance. I did it once. I can do it again.”