The Killing Game

  “You go take your dog for a run.”

  Sarah smiled faintly. “Or you go out to lunch with Joe. Whatever works.”

  Eve nodded. “Whatever works.”

  C H A P T E R

  FOURTEEN

  Logan called Eve on her digital phone when she and Joe were on their way to lunch. “You found Debby Jordan.”

  “Yes.”

  “You could have called and told me and not let me read about it in the newspapers.”

  “I told you, I wanted you out of it.” She'd wanted all of them out of it, but that didn't seem to be happening, she thought ruefully.

  “Is Quinn still staying at the house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Herb told me he was there. I didn't call you because I hoped you'd send him on his way, but I seem to be the one left out of the circle.”

  “I'm getting rid of Joe as soon as possible.” She glanced at Joe. “But he's making that very difficult.”

  “Tell me about it. I should have known he'd find out about the house. Is he with you now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dammit, let me come and help you.”

  “No, Logan.”

  There was a silence. “You're closing me away from you. I can feel it.”

  “I have to do it.”

  Another silence. “That could mean a lot of things, couldn't it?”

  “It means exactly what I said.”

  He muttered a curse and hung up.

  She pressed the off button.

  “He's pissed?” Joe asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Shut up.” Tears stung her eyes. Maybe it would be better if Logan was angry with her. Perhaps she hadn't called him because she wanted him to be the one who walked away. Logan had pride and she had not wanted to hurt that pride.

  You're closing me away from you.

  It had struck a truthful note. My God, had she been pulling away from Logan, distancing herself? When had it started? Joe had come back into her life and turned everything upside down.

  “Logan's done everything he could to make things easier for me, and yet he didn't interfere. Not like some people I know.”

  “That's his mistake. He always took the slow, civilized approach where you were concerned.”

  “The intelligent approach.”

  Joe just smiled.

  She wanted to slap him.

  “Sorry. Actually, I'm feeling fairly mellow toward Logan, and I shouldn't fault him. For years I made the same mistake. There's only one difference between us.” His tone was suddenly no longer light. “He doesn't want you enough. You're not his center. He wouldn't do anything to get you. That's why he'll lose.” Joe swung the wheel and the car coasted through the entrance gates of a pleasant little park. “And that's why I'll win.” He parked at the side of the road. “Now, stop thinking and relax. We're here.”

  She looked at him in bewilderment. “Where?”

  “Lunch.” He nodded at a food cart parked by the playground a few yards ahead. “Galindo's. Herb says they make the best fajitas in Phoenix.” He pulled a pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment and reached for a black straw hat from the backseat. “Put these on. You'll look like Madonna incognito.”

  “You've got to be crazy.”

  “Just hungry. I thought it would be nice to sit on one of those park benches, eat, and people-watch.” He got out of the car. “It's too nice a day to be cooped up inside.”

  It was a nice day, and she didn't want to quarrel with him. She wanted to relax and try not to think of Logan or Dom. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Tomorrow they might have the photograph.

  EVE AND JOE were sitting on a park bench, eating Mexican food, as if they hadn't a care in the world. She was smiling as she leaned toward Quinn and wiped a corner of his mouth.

  Her entire attitude was subtly different today, Dom thought.

  Hope?

  Perhaps. She had found Debby Jordan.

  Dom had no objection to hope. He had wanted to drag the search out a little longer, let the tension build and the relationship with Jane MacGuire grow, but he could deal with optimism. The fall was always greater when you'd climbed to the top. Perhaps it was even better that she'd found the woman so soon. Things were going to move fast from now on, and he'd be walking a tightrope. Excitement seared through him at the thought.

  But pitting himself against Eve Duncan was more exhilarating still. She was evolving, toughening, changing just as he had changed. It was interesting to observe and know that he was responsible.

  So hope was fine.

  But there was something else going on with her. . . .

  Watch her. Body language almost always told the story. If he studied her, it would come to him. He had begun to know her very well.

  It would come to him.

  SARAH AND JANE met Eve and Joe in the driveway.

  Monty ran toward Eve, wagging his tail, when she opened the car door.

  She gently patted his head. “He looks better.”

  “He is. Thank God.” Sarah gestured and Monty ran back to her. “Nice lunch?”

  “Very nice. Fajitas and chili,” Joe answered. “I think Eve enjoyed it much more than your Monty would have. I was tempted to bring him a doggie bag, but Eve convinced me it wouldn't be wise.”

  “I would have murdered you. Monty gets gas.”

  “Have you been running all this time?”

  “No, Jane and I had a picnic.” She smiled at the little girl. “Jane said she couldn't remember the last time she had a picnic lunch.”

  Jane shrugged. “No big deal. Just a lot of ants and dirt in the sandwiches.”

  Sarah shook her head. “You're tough.”

  “Well, I guess Monty liked the picnic.”

  “Because you fed your roast beef to him.”

  “You told him to take it, and he needed it. He hasn't eaten much lately.” Jane headed for the front door. “Come on, Monty. I'll give you some water.”

  Monty didn't move.

  Sarah made another hand gesture and Monty bounded after Jane into the house.

  “Thanks for keeping her company,” Eve said.

  “I enjoy her.” Sarah was frowning slightly. “I wish I could— It's not easy for her.”

  “What?”

  “I can't share Monty. She wants him to belong to her, and that can't happen. It's not safe for him to have a divided allegiance.” She made a face. “Besides, we've been close too long. It kind of shuts everyone else out.”

  “She understands about compromises. She's made the adjustment.”

  “Compromises suck.”

  “I'll second that,” Joe murmured. He headed for the front door. “I'm going to call Charlie Cather and then go down to the precinct. I'll see you tonight.”

  “Why are you calling Charlie? I thought you said he wouldn't let us go with him.”

  “Another try won't hurt.”

  Sarah's gaze followed Joe. “You were gone a long time. I was wondering whether Monty and I should come after you.”

  Eve smiled. “I don't need protection from Joe.”

  “No?”

  “Time got away from us.” She tilted her head. “You don't like Joe?”

  “I didn't say that. I do like him. He was nice to Monty. I like most people who are nice to Monty. I just think he's a powerhouse and you have to be careful not to be run over by people like him. I've had a few experiences with powerhouses myself.”

  “For God's sake, we only had lunch. I won't be run over.”

  Sarah gave her a shrewd look. “Unless you want it to happen.” She held up a hand as she strode toward the door. “It's none of my business. I think I'll go and see how Jane and Monty are doing.”

  Eve slowly followed her into the house. She could hear the sound of Jane's and Sarah's laughter in the kitchen. Joe must be in the office making his call.

  Joe . . .

  Unless you want it to happen.

  Of course she didn't wa
nt it to happen. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was. It was too dangerous to let herself be swayed by the—

  The house phone rang.

  “There's a Mr. Grunard at the front gate,” Herb Booker said when she picked up the receiver. “He said you're expecting him.”

  “Let him in, Herb.” She felt a ripple of relief as she replaced the phone. The arrival of Mark Grunard brought her mind back to what was important.

  She opened the front door before he could ring the bell.

  “Well, this is more welcome than I've come to expect from you.” Mark got out of the car. “I anticipated having to storm the gates.”

  She smiled. “I've never meant to close you out. I just didn't have anything important to share with you.”

  “I'm a journalist. I can make a story out of a trip to the grocery store.”

  “That's what I'm afraid of,” she said dryly. “Come in and I'll fill you in on what's been happening. Off the record.”

  “Of course.” He followed her into the living room. “Where's Quinn?”

  “In the office, I think. He's going to the precinct later.”

  “Yeah, I heard how he finagled that job as liaison. Smart. And very convenient for me.”

  She turned to face him. “I want to cooperate with you, Mark. But I won't let you put Joe on the spot.”

  “Quinn can take care of himself.”

  Mark wasn't going to listen. Now that he was in the center of things, he was going to push until he got what he wanted. “I've been feeling a little guilty about you, Mark. I don't like the idea of breaking my word to anyone. But the minute you start making Joe's job awkward for him is the minute you'll be out of the loop.”

  Grunard smiled. “Now, why would I make Quinn's job difficult? We're all after the same thing. I'll go down to the precinct after I check into a hotel, but I won't get in Quinn's way.” He was glancing around the room. “Nice place. Quinn told me Logan had set you up.”

  She gave him a blank stare. “I don't know what you mean.”

  He chuckled. “He also said you'd deny it.”

  “Logan has nothing to do with this. Leave him out—”

  “I brought you a glass of milk, Eve.” Jane was standing in the doorway. “Mrs. Carboni used to say that milk settled her stomach after she ate spicy food.”

  “I don't like being compared to Mrs. Carboni.” She smiled as she took the milk. “But thanks anyway.”

  “No offense.” Jane smiled back at her. “I used to sneak jalapeño juice into everything she ate. It's pretty hard to tell in spaghetti sauce. Sometimes the milk didn't help and she'd be up all night throwing up.”

  Eve laughed. “Good.”

  “This milk's safe. I wouldn't do that to you.”

  “My, my,” Mark murmured. “I believe our little chickadee has mellowed.”

  Jane gave him a cool glance.

  “Or maybe not.” Mark smiled. “How are you, Jane?”

  “I'm no chickadee.” She left the room.

  “Ouch.” Mark wrinkled his nose. “It seems you're the only one she's tolerating these days.”

  “I'd have snubbed you too if you'd been that patronizing toward me. She's been holding up better than anyone could expect. She's been wonderful.”

  “Okay, okay.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I see the two of you are presenting a united front. I think I'd better go find Quinn and get him to fill me in on what's been going on. It's safer. Where's the office?”

  “Second door on your left,” she said curtly.

  He glanced back at her from the door. “Dom's done it, hasn't he? The kid's gotten to you.”

  “Don't be stupid. We're just used to each other, that's all. We live together.”

  He shook his head. “Then Dom had better never see you with her. He might make the same mistake I did.”

  Chill iced through her. Had the growing bond been that obvious? “He won't see her with me.”

  “Then that's okay.” Mark left the room.

  It wasn't okay. If Mark had made the connection so easily, maybe anyone would be able to see it also. She wouldn't let it happen. She would never take Jane from the house. Still she felt shaken and scared and a little sick. She needed warmth and life and—

  Joe.

  No, she couldn't go running to Joe.

  Jane and Sarah were in the kitchen. She'd go there and sit down at the table and listen to them talk and laugh. She'd pet Monty and then maybe she'd call her mother. She'd keep busy and try not to think of the photograph or Dom or anything but the precious things in life.

  And soon the chill would go away.

  THE RED-HAIRED DOLL stared up at Eve with glassy brown eyes. Its porcelain throat was cut from ear to ear.

  “It was in the driveway. Someone must have tossed it through the gate,” Herb Booker said quietly. “The video camera at the gate went out and Juan found the doll when he went to check it. The camera lens had been shattered. Probably a shot from a long-range weapon, since the camera didn't pick up anything. I was going to call Mr. Logan, but I thought you should see this first.”

  “Yes,” she said numbly.

  “It wasn't there when Mr. Quinn or Mr. Grunard left earlier. I checked the gate myself.” He hesitated. “It's a little girl doll.”

  “I can see that.”

  Bonnie.

  Jane.

  “It's nasty. I think we should call someone.”

  “I'll take care of it.”

  “No offense, ma'am, but it could mean the little girl is—”

  “I'll take care of it, Herb.” Her hand tightened on the doll. “Thank you for your concern.”

  “I think you should reconsider—”

  “Go away.” She stopped and tempered the sharpness of her tone. “I'm sorry. I'm upset. I need to be alone to think about this. I don't want you to call anyone, not even Mr. Logan. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  But he didn't say he wouldn't do it. Why should he? Logan paid his salary.

  “Not even Mr. Logan,” she repeated, and then gave him an out. “At least, not until tomorrow. Okay?”

  He shrugged. “I guess so. Juan and I will both patrol the grounds tonight. You don't have to worry.”

  “Thank you.”

  Not worry? Dom had been close enough to toss this savaged doll practically on her front doorstep.

  Booker still didn't move.

  “Good-bye, Herb.” She went into the living room and a moment later heard the front door close behind him.

  She sat down on the couch, took out her digital phone, and laid it on the coffee table in front of her.

  And waited for him to call her.

  It was almost midnight when the phone rang.

  “Just a reminder,” Dom said.

  “What's wrong? Did you get tired of sending me bones?”

  There was a surprised silence. “You're angry.”

  “You bet I am.”

  “What an interesting development.”

  “Did you expect me to sit shivering in the dark, you son of a bitch?”

  “I didn't really think about it. As I said, I only meant it to remind you of what was important in your life. I believe you may be forgetting.”

  “Important? You?”

  “Yes. Right now there's no one more important to you than I am.”

  “Screw you.” She hung up.

  The phone rang again five minutes later.

  She ignored it.

  It rang four times more in the next hour.

  She didn't answer.

  IT WAS AFTER two in the morning when Joe came home.

  She was still sitting on the couch, holding the doll, when he walked into the living room.

  He took one look at the doll and then at her expression. “Shit. What the hell happened?”

  “Dom tossed it onto the driveway. Herb didn't tell you?”

  He shook his head. “I was wondering why they were both at the gate when I drove in. Did
he call?”

  “Yes.”

  He fell to his knees before her. “Bad?”

  “The bastard's always bad. It's what he does.” Her voice was shaking. “He thought I wasn't paying enough attention to him. He wanted to remind me that he was still around.”

  Joe gently stroked her hair back from her face. “You could hardly forget.”

  “That isn't enough for him. He wants to dominate my life. He wants to be my life.” She looked down at the doll. “He tossed this ugliness at me so I'd remember Bonnie and Jane and all those other—”

  “Shh.”

  “Don't shush me. I won't have it.” She jumped to her feet. “You're treating me like the victim he wants me to be. I won't be a victim. I won't let him run my life.”

  “Easy.” He rose to his feet. “I'm not the enemy here, Eve.”

  “I know.” She took a step closer and buried her head in his shoulder. “Hold me.”

  He carefully slid his arms around her.

  “No, dammit.” She pressed against him. “Hold me.”

  He went still. “Are we talking about what I think we are?”

  “I won't think of him. I won't think of death. That's what he wants me to do. I want to live.”

  “And you're equating sex with life?”

  “Aren't they the same thing? If not, I don't know what the hell all the shouting is about.”

  “Sex can be a big part of life.”

  “I won't let him do this to me. I'm not going to sit around and wait for him to come knocking on the door or dictate to me. I'll do what I damn well please.”

  “Your declaration of tenderness is amazing.”

  “Do you think I don't know it's not fair to you? But you want it. You told me you wanted it. Have you changed your mind?”

  “Hell, no.” His lips firmed. “But this isn't what I had in mind.”

  “It's not what I had in mind either. But I won't have him—” Christ, what was she doing? This was Joe. Where were all her good intentions? Tears were suddenly running down her cheeks. “I'm sorry. Forget it. I don't know what I was thinking. Hell, I wasn't thinking. I was only feeling. Try to forgive me. I must have gone a little crazy. He made me so damn—”

  The digital phone rang.