Page 20 of Shadow Play

“Hi.” She took her seat in the chair beside his bed. “I told you I was going to a hotel and get some of the stench of that hillside off me.” She held out her arm. “Smell. I’m fabulous.”

  “You were fabulous before.” He sniffed. “But a vast improvement. Lemon. I like your vanilla better.”

  “Never satisfied.”

  “And you like it that way.” He pressed his lips on her forearm. “So do I…”

  “Go to sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t make it before you had your meds. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Come to bed.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “Come to bed.”

  “Joe, they’ll kick me out.”

  He kissed her forearm again. “I’m not insisting on conjugal privileges … maybe. I just want you next to me. I can’t sleep without you.”

  “You’re almost asleep now.”

  “Okay, I won’t go to sleep without you. And you know I’ve been trained to do without sleep.”

  “Stubborn bastard.” She hesitated. “They will kick me out, Joe.”

  “We’ll face that when it happens.” He painfully shifted to one side. “In the meantime…”

  “Don’t move again. I’ll do it…”

  A moment later, she was lying beside him, holding him. “Now go to sleep,” she whispered.

  “Soon.” His cheek was rubbing her shoulder. “Tell me about your day.”

  “I told you when I called you. Very boring.”

  “No, there are always nuances. I want to know what I’m missing.”

  So that he could think and put all the pieces together. “Something is going on between Margaret and Nalchek. She’s not sure she trusts him.”

  “Why?”

  “The usual reasons with Margaret.” Her hand was stroking his hair. “Nothing concrete.”

  “You’re not concerned?”

  “I’m concerned. But I have too much on my plate right now to let it become major.”

  “And I have nothing on my plate.” He felt her stiffen, and his lips brushed her throat. “I’m not bitter. But I’m getting zilch from those databases. I’m frustrated and trying to work around it and be useful. I just have to have all the info available so that I can do it.”

  She felt relieved. She knew he was chomping at the bit, and it was only a matter of time before he exploded. But he also knew that he wasn’t at full capacity and was willing to wait … for a time. “I’ll have Margaret call you tomorrow. She’s staying at the hotel with me, but she could come here if you like.”

  “No, I don’t need help. I’ll do it myself. I like the idea of your having someone with you.”

  “Nalchek said he was assigning someone to watch me.”

  “Oh, you mean our great sheriff who Margaret is so uneasy about?”

  “We had no doubts about him before.”

  “But now I’m doubting everyone. Probably the result of this damn frustration.”

  “It may be over soon. Maybe someone will recognize Jenny’s face tomorrow in the article.”

  “And maybe they won’t.” He drew her closer. “Either way we’ll make it work for us.” He yawned. “And now I think that I’ll go to sleep. Don’t you dare move unless one of those nurses shows up with a bazooka.”

  “Yeah, you stake me out for disciplinary action, then nod off to sleep.”

  “That’s the plan. Someone’s got to take the heat, and I’m wounded and unable to cope.”

  “Not true.” She was aware of a subtle difference in his demeanor. He might be frustrated, but he was not on automatic. Joe’s mind was clicking, formulating, and that might be good or bad for her plan of keeping him out of the action. “Wounded, yes.”

  “And that’s causing you to agonize and try to—” He broke off. “Go ahead, agonize, it will put you right under my thumb. I’ve been trying to get you in that position for years. And all it took was a bullet.”

  “All?” She gave him a quick kiss. “Shut up. And I’ll keep you safe if I want to do it. You have nothing to say about it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes were closing. “I’m in your hands…”

  For the moment, he was in her hands. Tomorrow or the next day, it might be different.

  But she would take tonight and hold it close.

  CHAPTER

  12

  “Time to get up.” Elena Delaney opened the door and stuck her head into Cara’s room. “Past time. You’re late. You overslept. If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the bus.”

  Cara raised her head. “I’ll make it.” She yawned. “And if I don’t, I can walk with Heather. She says she does it all the time.”

  “No,” Elena said crisply. “We’ve discussed that. Get up and get going. You’re going to be on that bus.”

  “Okay.” Cara swung her legs to the floor. “I’ll skip breakfast and be down there in front of the apartment on time. I promise, Elena.”

  “You won’t skip breakfast.” She turned and started to leave. “I’ll make a grilled cheese sandwich, and you can eat on the run.” She stopped, and looked back over her shoulder, her gaze going to the dark circles beneath Cara’s eyes. “The nightmares again?”

  Cara nodded. “But they’re getting better. I haven’t had one for two weeks. Maybe they’re starting to go away.”

  “And maybe they’re not. When you have one, you don’t sleep for the rest of the night.”

  “Honest. They’re getting better.” She started for the bathroom and then stopped. “Should I know an Eve, Elena? Do you know someone named Eve?”

  “What?” Elena frowned. “No, why?”

  “No reason. She was just part of my dream.” She disappeared into the bathroom.

  Elena shook her head and hurried toward the kitchen. She had to get Cara on that bus and be at the restaurant where she worked as a waitress forty-five minutes later. It would be fine. She was good at multitasking. She put butter into the frying pan to melt as she turned on the TV to get the local weather. Then she opened the front door and picked up the newspaper and carried it back to the kitchen. She put the two pieces of bread in the frying pan and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Cara,” she called. “How are you coming?”

  “Almost there.”

  “Five minutes, and you have to be out the door.” She flipped through the newspaper. Usual depressing stuff. North Korean threats, terrorists beheading people, politicians feathering their own nests. She didn’t know why she even paid to have a paper delivered.

  Because it might be more dangerous to ignore the news than to have to put up with it.

  Ignorance could be deadly.

  And Elena had her own nightmares that she never told Cara about.

  But maybe Cara was right, and everything was getting better … for both of them. Maybe it would be—

  Dear God.

  She was staring down at the face in the newspaper.

  Cara’s face.

  No, not Cara’s. Jenny’s face. But close enough. Those distinctive features … The two girls had always looked alike even though there was six years difference in age.

  Now Jenny’s green eyes were staring out of this paper at her, and Elena was starting to shake as she remembered that last night.

  Not my fault. I would have saved you if I could. You shouldn’t have run away. Then I had to choose.

  Stop shaking and read the story. See how bad it was going to be for them.

  She quickly scanned the article, then pushed the newspaper away.

  “Something’s burning.”

  Cara was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

  Elena glanced at the toast in the pan that was now smoking and blackened. She tried to gather her composure as she quickly took the pan off the burner. “Sorry, something distracted me. Grab a health bar and get out of here.” She pushed the newspaper aside. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  “Right.” Cara grabbed her red book bag and a honey oat bar from the cabinet. “See you…”

&nb
sp; “Wait.”

  Cara stopped at the door and looked back at her.

  Elena couldn’t let her go like this. She hadn’t been thinking straight. It might be okay, but having this skull out there for everyone to see could be a disaster. She couldn’t chance the connection to Cara. “We’re going to have to leave, Cara.”

  Cara stiffened. “Again?”

  “It’s best.” She moistened her lips. “I’ll pack up our suitcases and meet you at school. Do you have your phone in your backpack?”

  “I always have it.” She stood there, stunned. “I like it here, Aunt Elena. My school … I’ve even started to make a few friends. Do we have to leave?”

  Elena nodded. “Maybe we can come back someday. We just have to leave right now.”

  “We won’t come back,” Cara said. “We never come back.”

  No, they never went back. They’d had to go on the run several times in the past years, and they’d never returned. Elena was always afraid that they might have left some trace, some clue behind.

  And there might be someone waiting for them.

  “New places are good, too. You always do well.”

  “You said the money had run out. How are we going to get settled again?”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  “I like it here.”

  “Cara, go get on the bus. Don’t argue with me.”

  Cara nodded and turned toward the door. “No, I won’t argue. It doesn’t do any good, does it?”

  “Cara … I don’t want to do this.”

  “I know. I’ll be waiting.” She left the apartment.

  No arguments. No questions. The first few times Cara had asked questions, but even then she had not protested. She had just accepted.

  Which made Elena wonder if that doctor she’d taken Cara to had been right, that she had no real memory of that night. She hoped that was true. Cara had been a child of three, and what she’d experienced had been enough to traumatize an adult. Yet there must be subconscious memories because the nightmares remained. She would wake crying and shaking in the night, but nothing could get her to tell Elena about them.

  But if even scanty memory remained somewhere in that child’s mind, it might be reason for her not to argue about fleeing at even the hint of danger.

  She looked back down at the photo of Jenny. So alive, so incredibly lifelike for a child killed all those years ago. She felt a wrenching regret.

  I’m sorry, Jenny. I can’t help you now, just as I couldn’t help you then. All I can do is try to keep Cara alive.

  Get moving. Get packed. Hope that someone hadn’t seen this story and decided to call the cell number listed. Someone who had noticed the curious resemblance to Cara …

  CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER

  “Any word?” Eve asked Terry Brandell when she answered her cell. “It’s almost noon. Have you heard anything?”

  “We’ve had a few calls but nothing definitive,” the journalist answered. “A lot of curiosity seekers and one pastor who thinks that you should have left the remains to return to dust.”

  “No one who recognizes her face? I can’t believe it. She’s very memorable. You even thought you recognized her.”

  “But I haven’t been able to tell you from where,” she said. “Could be imagination. I’ve got to go. I’ll let you know if I get a solid lead.” She hung up.

  Eve turned to Joe. “No luck yet.”

  “So I heard. It’s early.”

  She braced herself. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “I’ve been waiting for that.” Joe’s lips tightened. “I was hoping for that same miraculous call you did, but it isn’t happening. You know that these photos sometimes pay off and sometimes don’t. No one knows that better than you.”

  “If it doesn’t happen the first day the photo is published, the chances get slimmer and slimmer.”

  “And so do the chances of that little girl Walsh is targeting.” She leaned forward and took his hand. “I have to go to Carmel and see if I can find out anything more.”

  “The school photographers? One of the first things we checked when we were going through those photos at Sacramento PD were the ones from that city. We didn’t come up with any photos that bore any resemblance to Jenny.”

  “But maybe she didn’t pay to have her school photo taken. If her parents knew she was targeted, they might have refused to let her do it. But I was thinking, club photos, organizations, yearbooks. She might be in one of those.”

  Joe was silent.

  She suddenly realized why. “You thought of that, too,” Eve said. “You didn’t bring it up.”

  “At the time, we had enough victims to worry about. You were practically overwhelmed.”

  “No, that’s not it.” She was studying his expression. “You were going to go back on your own later and check it out. You thought that it might be a danger zone, and you didn’t want me there.”

  “Guilty,” he said warily. “No reason to be upset. It was only a possibility.”

  “Yes, but you were going to do it again. The same thing that happened at Tahoe. Close me out and take over.” She was shaking with anger. “Dammit, you can’t do that, Joe.”

  “It was just a question of training and experience. You told me yourself that you realized where my expertise lay.”

  “Of course I do. You were a SEAL. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you get yourself killed trying to protect me. I brought you into this. Jenny is my reconstruction. Everything that’s happened since that day I accepted her is tied to that decision. I’m the one who is responsible. You know I feel that way.” She jumped to her feet. “I’ve been tiptoeing around trying to keep you from doing too much, trying to keep you from exploding and finding a way to get out of here before you were ready for release.” Her hands clenched at her sides. “Well, I’m through with that. You want to help? You stay in that bed and help.”

  “I can’t promise that, Eve.”

  “No, probably not. But I’ll pull out a couple wild cards that will slow you down. As long as you stay here, I’ll call you and tell you what’s going on. You have my word on it. But I’ll also call Nalchek and ask him to have a guard outside your door to follow you if you leave. If you lose him, he’ll call me.” She paused. “And that will be the end of my checking in with you. I’ll disappear, so that I don’t have to go through another Tahoe.”

  “That wouldn’t be smart.” His eyes were glittering in his taut face. “We need to work together.”

  “And we will, but not if you keep closing me out.” She turned toward the door. “Here’s your first report, I’m going to check on those photographers and look through current yearbooks. If I hear from that journalist, I’ll follow up. I’ll take Margaret with me, and we might be able to split up the workload.” She looked back over her shoulder. “I’ll always answer your calls, always be ready to share … as long as I know the call comes from this hospital.”

  He looked at her, his expression enigmatic. “Tough. Very tough, Eve.”

  “No, I’m being easy on you. Think how I felt when I was holding you, trying to stop that damn blood.”

  She left the room. She was still shaking as she walked down the hall toward the elevator. She was torn by anger and regret and loneliness. She hated this. She had known for years that Joe would always be protective of her, it was his nature and the nature of the years and events that had formed their relationship. It was based on love, and how could you condemn him for loving her too much?

  So she had accepted and protested but never fought it.

  She had to fight it now. She couldn’t bear the thought of what could have happened at Tahoe. She had exploded when she had guessed that Joe had been going to investigate that lead without her, but it had all gone back to the basic problem. They had to come to terms.

  She was punching the elevator button as she dialed Margaret. “Hi. I’m leaving the hospital now and coming to pick you up. I should be there in fifte
en minutes. Meet me in the lobby.”

  CARMEL, CALIFORNIA

  She was being followed.

  Elena felt the muscles of her stomach clench as she looked in her rearview mirror after leaving the restaurant where she worked.

  She was sure it was the same tan Toyota she had noticed when she had left the apartment this morning.

  But how could they have found her so soon? The photo had just come out this morning.

  There were thousands of tan Toyotas. She could be wrong. There were several turns on the way from her work to Cara’s school. If she was right, she mustn’t let the driver of the Toyota know that she was aware she was being followed. That would automatically put him on the defensive. Drive a few blocks, take two turns, and see what happened.

  She took the first turn and slowed.

  Tan Toyota.

  Her heart was beating hard.

  She took the second turn.

  Tan Toyota.

  Oh, God, it was happening. All those years of waiting and terror, and it was happening.

  Calm down. Think. How could she protect Cara?

  Go by the plan. Don’t try to change anything.

  She reached for her phone and dialed Cara.

  “I can’t talk, Elena,” Cara whispered when she answered. “I’m in English, and they’ll—”

  “Listen. Act as if you’re sick to your stomach and run out of the classroom. Do it now.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “Do it now.” She hung up and waited for a few minutes and called back. “Where are you?”

  “In the bathroom down the hall. I thought that would be—”

  “That’s fine. Look, you can’t wait until I come to get you. Something has— You can’t wait.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to understand. You just have to get out of there and go to the cave. We have to put the plan I taught you into effect. You still have the money I told you to keep in your backpack?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember that trip we took after we moved into the apartment? The bus station, where to get off, how far to hike down to the beach?”

  “I remember. You had me do it by myself, so that I wouldn’t forget.”

  But she was frightened, she was sensing Elena’s own fear and reflecting it. “It will be fine. You’re very smart. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But you have to go now.”