Don't do it, Eve.
Don't run toward him.
Wait for me.
SHE WAS RUNNING.
The alley smelled of grease and garbage.
Darkness.
A sound to the left.
Her heart leaped to her throat.
Dom?
No, only a cat.
Where was Jane?
“Jane? Do you see her, Mark?”
“Here,” Jane called out.
The big cardboard refrigerator box against the brick wall.
“Mike's okay.” Jane crawled out of the box, dragging a small boy with her. “He's just scared. He said he kept hearing scratching tonight. Probably rats. He's hungry. You got anything in your purse?”
“I'm afraid not.”
“Who are they?” Mike was staring at Eve and Mark warily. “Welfare?”
“I wouldn't do that to you,” Jane said. “But you can't stay here any longer. There's some bad people hanging around.”
“I'm okay.”
“You'll be better where Eve will take you. Get your stuff.”
Mike hesitated.
“There will be plenty of food.”
“Okay.” Mike ducked back into the box.
“Where are you going to take him?” Jane asked. “He's going to want to know.”
So did Eve. “I've got to think about it.”
“Not welfare.”
“No.”
“Not back to his father.”
“Okay, Jane, I get the point.”
“You promised.”
She inhaled sharply. Something was gleaming wetly on the cardboard box. “I'll keep my promise.”
Mike came out of the box carrying a duffel bag. “What kind of food? I like french fries.”
“I'll see what I can do.” She turned to Mark. “Take them back to the car, will you?”
Jane looked at her.
Mark raised his brows. “You're not coming?”
“In a minute.”
He nodded and began to shepherd the children up the alley.
She reached out and gingerly touched the dark stain on the box. Not as wet as she'd thought, only a little came off on her fingertips. Her hand was trembling as she reached into her handbag and drew out a small flashlight.
The stain on her fingers was dark red, almost rusty.
Blood.
He kept hearing scratching tonight.
She shone the light on the box.
You've done well, Eve. A small reward . . .
She felt sick as she realized how close Dom had been to the little boy.
Reward?
Mike's life was her reward?
No.
The dots at the end of the sentence were leading downward.
Something white lay on the ground.
She slowly knelt down and shone the light on the small object.
A bone. Tiny, delicate. A child's finger bone.
Bonnie?
She felt faint and held on to the cardboard box to keep from falling to the ground.
Hold on. He wants you to hurt.
Oh, God, Bonnie . . .
Don't touch it. Don't touch anything. Maybe he's made a mistake this time.
See, she was getting better. She hadn't been able to leave the rib he'd left for her on the porch.
She could do it now. She could leave that fragile bone lying in the alley if it meant a chance at catching the bastard.
She struggled to her feet and turned off the flashlight.
Fight the pain. Walk.
Don't think of the bone. Don't think of Bonnie.
She couldn't save her daughter, but she might be able to save Jane and Mike.
Are you there, Dom? Go ahead, show me blood. Show me my daughter's bones. Everything you do is making me stronger.
I won't let you win this time.
C H A P T E R
NINE
The man's throat had been slashed.
“Son of a bitch.”
Joe looked up to see Barbara Eisley standing a few feet away. She took a step closer and looked down at the body that had been rolled into the bushes bordering the house. “The security guard?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Why shouldn't I be here? You wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me that you're coming out here to disturb my people and you expect me to just go back to sleep?” She glanced back at the halfway house in which every light was blazing. “This is my responsibility. Where's Jane MacGuire?”
“I don't know.”
“The house mother says she's not in her room. The guard's dead. Could she be dead too?”
“She could be.” When Eisley flinched, he added, “But I don't believe so. There was a knotted sheet hanging from her window.”
“So she climbed down—and dropped right into a murderer's hands.”
“Maybe not.”
Eisley's gaze raked his face. “Eve Duncan.” She swore beneath her breath. “I told her to stay away from the kid.”
“And she told you Jane was in danger. You wouldn't listen. You'd better pray Eve got to her before the man who killed your security guard did.” He rose to his feet. “Don't let anyone touch anything or track around this area before the forensic team gets here.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find Jane MacGuire.”
“If Eve Duncan took her, it's kidnapping.” She paused. “But since there are mitigating circumstances, if she returns the child within twenty-four hours, I might persuade the department not to press charges.”
“I'll convey your generous offer to her. Providing she ever makes contact with me.”
“You have to know where she is. That child has to be found.” There was a hint of panic in her voice. “You're friends, aren't you?”
“I thought we were.”
He could feel her gaze on him as he walked toward his car at the curb.
You're friends, aren't you?
Friends. Through all the years he'd forced himself to accept the relationship, and now she was even edging away from that.
At the worst possible time.
Screw friendship. Screw hope. I don't give a damn.
Just call and let me know that bastard hasn't gotten to you.
MARK PARKED THE car in front of a Peachtree apartment building. “Who lives here?”
“My mother and her fiancé,” Eve answered. “She's the only one I could think of who'd be willing to take care of Mike.”
Jane looked up at the thirteen-story high-rise. “Your mother?” she said doubtfully.
“She managed to raise me. I believe she can be trusted with Mike.”
“Maybe.”
Eve sighed with exasperation. Not only would she have to persuade Sandra to help, but her mother also had to win Jane's seal of approval. “He'll be safe here, Jane. The building has security, and my friend, Joe, arranged additional protection for my mother. He'll be fed and protected. What else can you ask for?”
Jane didn't answer as she headed for the front entrance with Mike trailing at her heels.
Eve looked at Mark. “Coming?”
“I don't think so. It's after one in the morning. I'd much rather face our serial killer than wake your mother and her boyfriend from a sound sleep and try to convince them to be instant parents. I'll wait here.”
“Coward.”
He smiled. “Yep.”
She started after the children. She wasn't eager to face the task at hand either. She scarcely knew Ron Fitzgerald. She'd met him only once before she'd left for Tahiti. He'd seemed pleasant, smart, and genuinely devoted to her mother. But he owed Eve nothing.
Then she would tackle him first. Even though she hated imposing on Sandra, she didn't doubt her mother would help. She just didn't want to do anything that would mess up a relationship her mother obviously treasured. She'd ask her to take the kids into the kitchen and fix them something to eat, then explain the situation to Ron and appeal for his help.
/> “NO,” RON SAID flatly. “I won't have Sandra involved in any illegal activities. Take the kids to the police.”
“I can't do that. I told you—” Eve stopped and drew a deep breath. “I'm not asking you to accept Jane. That might put you both in danger. But Dom has no interest in Mike, or he would have killed him when he had the chance. I just need someone to take care of him until I can work my way through this mess.”
“He's a runaway. There are serious repercussions for not returning him to his parents.”
“For God's sake, according to Jane he's been on the street for days and no one's reported him missing. Do you think his parents care?”
“It's against the law.”
And who should know better than a lawyer? “I need help, Ron.”
“I can see you do, but Sandra is my concern. I'd like to help, but I can't afford to let her—”
“We'll do it.” Her mother stood in the doorway. “Stop being a protective ass, Ron.”
He turned to face her. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” She came toward them. “Do you think Eve would have come here if she'd had any other choice?”
“Let me take care of this, Sandra.”
She shook her head. “That little boy is scared. We're not going to toss him back to his parents, and I'm not going to send Eve away when she needs me. I did that too many times when she was a kid.” She paused. “But she's not your daughter. I can take Mike back to my own house.”
He scowled. “The hell you will.”
“Believe it.” Her tone was quiet but firm. “We've been very happy, but there's more to my life than just you, Ron.”
“Harboring a runaway is illegal, and I won't have you—”
“Did I ever tell you how many times Eve ran away when I was on crack?” She looked at Eve. “He doesn't mean to be hard. He's just never been there.”
“I don't want to mess up anything for you, Mom.”
“If taking a kid in from the cold can mess up what Ron and I have, then it's not worth keeping.” She turned back to Ron. “Is it?”
He stared at her for a moment, and then he gave a faint smile. “Damn you, Sandra.” He shrugged. “Okay, you win. We tell the neighbors he's my brother's kid visiting from Charlotte.”
Relief surged through Eve. “Thank you.”
Sandra shook her head. “You're so stubborn about standing alone and not letting anyone help you. It's nice to be able to do something for you.”
Eve warily glanced at Ron.
“It's okay. I don't like it, but it's okay.” He slipped his arm around Sandra's waist. “But you stay away from her until this bastard is behind bars. Do you hear me? I won't have Sandra in danger.”
“I didn't intend anything else. Keep your digital phone on, Mom. I'll call periodically to make sure everything's okay.” She stood up. “Now I'll go and find Jane and get out of here.”
“I'm ready.” Jane stood in the doorway. “Mike's having another pancake, Mrs. Duncan. You'd better stop him or he'll have a bellyache tonight.”
“Another? Good heavens, he's already had six.” Sandra hurried toward the kitchen.
Jane came forward. “We should leave now. I've explained things to Mike, but he may make a fuss if he starts thinking about me leaving.” She looked at Ron. “You take good care of him. He may be scared of you at first. His father is big like you.”
“I'll take care of him.”
She studied him. “You don't want to do it.” She turned to Eve. “Maybe we shouldn't—”
“I said I'll take care of him,” Ron said testily. “I don't have to like it. I promised and I'll do it.”
Jane was still frowning.
Christ, she had to get her out of there. “Come on, Jane.” Eve pushed her toward the front door. “They'll be better off alone.”
“I'm not sure that—”
Eve pulled her out into the hall and closed the door. “He'll be fine. Mom will take care of him.”
“She doesn't cook very well. The pancakes were runny.”
“Cooking isn't one of her talents. But she's a good person. You'd like her if you got to know her.”
“I do like her. She's sort of like . . . Fay.”
“And Fay was very protective, wasn't she?”
“Yes.” Another silence. “That man.”
“He's a nice guy. He won't hurt Mike.”
“I don't like him.”
Eve had liked him a lot better the first time she'd met him. But no one was perfect, and she should be glad he was protective of Sandra. “He's worried about my mother. Do you think I'd leave Mike if I wasn't certain?”
Jane stared at her with a frown and finally shook her head. “I guess not. Where are we going?”
“Someplace out of town where we can find a motel and get some sleep. I'm tired, aren't you?”
“Yes.”
Eve could see Jane was exhausted. Her face was pinched and pale with strain and yet she had doggedly held on until Mike was settled.
Jane was silent until they got into the elevator. “Why?” she whispered. “Why is it happening?”
“I'll tell you, but not now. Trust me.”
“Why should I?”
What could she say? After what Jane had gone through in the last twenty-four hours, why should she trust anyone? “I don't know. I'm not sure if I'd trust anyone either. I guess because I'm your best bet.”
“That's not saying much.”
Frustration made Eve speak sharply. “Well, it's all you'll get from me. It's all I can give you.”
“You don't have to get nasty.”
“Yes, I do. I feel nasty. I'm mad as hell and I don't need—” She bit her lower lip. “Sorry. Things are piling up on me.”
Jane was silent until they reached the front entrance of the apartment building. “It's okay. I'd rather you be nasty and honest. I hate those soppy caseworkers who ooze all over me.”
As a child, Eve had hated them too, but as an adult she felt bound to defend them. “They want only to do their—” Oh, what the devil. She was too tired for hypocrisy. “I promise I'll never ooze.” She opened the back door of the car. “Jump in. We have to get out of here.”
Mark looked over his shoulder at them. “I see we've lost one of our orphans.”
“Mom will take care of him.”
“So where to now?”
“Away from here. Fast. One of the first things the police will do to find me is talk to Mom. We're lucky we got here before they did. Go somewhere outside the city. A motel.”
“Any preference?”
She shook her head. “Somewhere safe.”
“Safe from Dom or safe from Joe Quinn?”
Joe.
Mark's narrowed gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “Joe will find you, Eve.”
She knew he would. It was only a matter of time. So she had to take advantage of that time. “I'll deal with Joe later.”
He gave a low whistle. “Better you than me.”
But no matter how much she dreaded it, she needed to call Joe at least one more time. She had to tell him about the scrawl on the cardboard box and the bone. Perhaps Dom had left some scrap of evidence.
He had made no detectable mistakes so far.
But wasn't he showing signs of recklessness? Mere hours after killing Fay Sugarton, he risked discovery by planting that bone only blocks from the crime scene.
Maybe he wasn't invulnerable. Maybe this time he'd left a clue to his identity.
So call Joe, take the flak, and tell him.
MARK GRUNARD DROVE them to a Motel 6 near Ellijay, Georgia. He arranged for a single room for himself and a double for Eve and Jane.
“As you ordered.” He handed Eve a key. “I'll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
“For what? I'd like to say I'm doing everything to save the kid, but I'm really interested only in the story.”
“Thanks anyway.”
She push
ed Jane into the room and locked the door. “Bathroom. Wash up.” Jesus, it was cold. She turned up the thermostat. “You can sleep in your underclothes tonight. I'll get you something else to wear tomorrow.”
Jane yawned. “Okay.”
She called Joe's digital number as soon as she was sure Jane was asleep in the twin bed next to her.
“Joe?”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I'm fine. And I have Jane MacGuire. She's safe.”
“I've been hunting all over the city for you. Sandra wouldn't tell me a damn thing.”
“Are the police bothering her?”
“Of course they are. What do you think?”
“Help her, Joe.”
“As much as I can. She's not the one they want. Where are you?”
She didn't answer the question. “I just called to tell you there may be usable evidence in the alley off Luther Street. Dom left a message in blood on a cardboard box and a child's finger bone on the ground.”
“Does the message say who the child is?”
“No.”
Bonnie.
Close it out. Don't think about Bonnie.
“And I don't know who the blood belongs to.”
“I do. The security guard at the welfare house you busted her out of.”
“Christ.” She shivered as she realized Dom might have already been preparing to go after Jane. “How long has he been dead?”
“We don't know yet. It was cold tonight. Time of death can be hard to determine when the body's been exposed to low temperatures. The last time anyone saw him was about eight-fifteen.”
So his death could have occurred in the early evening, hours before she appeared on the scene. The eerie feeling she'd had as she had stood beneath Jane's window could have been imagination.
“Which makes you both a kidnapper and a suspect in a murder,” Joe said.
“Murder?”
“You were at the scene. Though I don't believe anyone's going to seriously believe you're a murderer.”
“That's comforting.”
“But you'll be considered at least a material witness, and you'll be wanted for questioning. And then there's the kidnapping. There's an APB on you.”