Shadow Play

  Jane?

  Not Jane.

  Nalchek. She should ignore it. It was after three in the morning. But even Nalchek surely wouldn’t call her at this hour of the morning unless there was a reason.

  “Do you know what time it is?” she asked when she picked up. “If you want to check on progress, I don’t work twenty-four/seven, Sheriff.”

  “I was going to wait until morning,” Nalchek said. “But I didn’t get the report until one, and I didn’t want to— I thought I had to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “My deputy, Ron Carstairs, was killed last night.”

  His voice was hoarse, strained, and she could sense the pain.

  “That’s terrible. I’m very sorry.”

  “I didn’t call because I wanted sympathy. I thought you should know about it. I don’t think you’re in danger, but I don’t know.”

  “Danger?”

  “No one else thinks there’s a connection, but I can see it. Just because she’s dead is no sign that she’s forgotten. They tell me a child is helpless, but there might be some reason that—You should know.”

  “How was your deputy killed?”

  “We were out at the grave site. I was checking for additional evidence, and Ron was waiting for me at the car. He was stabbed.”

  “Dear God.”

  “The department thinks it’s robbery or maybe something personal.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I think someone was keeping an eye on the crime scene. I believe they wanted to know how the investigation was going. Maybe they saw me going out there a couple times and wondered if they’d left something that could incriminate them.”

  “After eight years?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what everyone says. For God’s sake, eight years isn’t forever.” His voice was suddenly passionate. “All I know is that little girl is dead, and someone should pay for it. She wants them to pay for it.”

  “You sound very sure of that.”

  “She was only nine. She had her whole life ahead of her. Of course I’m sure.”

  At least, he hadn’t said that Jenny had told him that she wanted revenge, she thought wryly. Evidently, Eve was the only one who had been honored by her wish to communicate. “And why did you feel it was important to tell me about your deputy?”

  “Because Ron had your dossier in the car on the way out to the crime scene. He tossed it on his seat when he got out of the car and walked with me to the edge of the forest.”

  “And?”

  “When I got back in the car, the dossier was spread out on the seat, very organized, everything clear. No longer in the folder. That was on the floor.”

  “Maybe he went back to look at it.”

  “No.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That all the information was spread out so that it could be photographed. That his killer had gone through the car to try to get a lead on what was happening in the case, what was happening to those bones.”

  She didn’t speak for a moment, trying to rid herself of a sudden chill. “I suppose it’s a possibility. If you had suspicions, did you have forensics go over the car for trace evidence? Fingerprints? DNA?”

  “Of course I did. That’s why I didn’t call you right away. It took time to get the results.”

  “Which were?”

  “Zero. Nothing.” He added harshly, “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not right. It just means he cleaned up after himself.”

  “And left those dossiers in full view for you to draw conclusions.”

  “Maybe he heard me coming back and panicked.”

  “You didn’t draw me a picture of a killer who would panic.”

  “Or maybe he left them so that you’d be the one to panic and refuse to do the reconstruction.”

  “That’s more likely.” She paused. “And that’s another reason why you didn’t call right away. You wanted to give me time to work on Jenny before you scared me off.”

  “Jenny?”

  “I had to call her something. It’s the way I work.”

  “Jenny … Yeah, that kind of suits her.”

  “I’m glad you think so. I have no idea what suits her.”

  But Jenny had known.

  Jenny. I … think … my name is Jenny.

  “You’re working on her?”

  “Yes, I’m doing fairly well.”

  “When will you be finished?”

  “I don’t do estimates.”

  “I believe it would be safer for you if you’d do it very quickly.”

  “Because you think that your killer is going to go after me because I’m working to put a face on his victim?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re the only one who thinks that.”

  “I sent that skull to you,” he said harshly. “I’m responsible. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

  She was silent. “I agree. It’s between the two of us. And Jenny, of course.” And Nalchek was in pain and still trying to do what he thought was right. She was beginning to like John Nalchek. “And I’ll get you a face for Jenny as quickly as I can. It shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Thanks,” he said tersely. “And you won’t take any chances?”

  “I won’t take chances,” she assured him. “And I’ll tell Joe Quinn what you’ve said if it will make you feel better. I’m sure that dossier you have on me stressed Joe’s importance in my life. He’s very good at eliminating threats, real or otherwise.”

  “I told Ron that Quinn was tough.” He paused. “If you need me, I’ll come there. Just call me. I don’t like the idea that bastard could be on his way to you right now.”

  “Likewise,” she said dryly. “But once I finish the reconstruction and get it back to you, I should be safe. Then it’s up to you to find Jenny’s murderer.” She was looking out at the lake, and it seemed colder than a moment ago, the shadows of the trees darker, more threatening. If the deputy’s death had happened early last night, then he might not be on his way to her, he might be here.

  “Good night, Sheriff.” She moved toward the door, and the next moment, she was inside the house. “I’ll keep you posted.” She hung up.

  She drew a deep breath, locked the door, and set the alarm.

  Whoever had killed that deputy wasn’t stupid. The threat had been there, and it was aimed at her. There might not have been anyone out there in the woods tonight, but there might be tomorrow. Or any other night while she was working on Jenny.

  That was the key. Jenny. As she’d told Nalchek, once she was done with the reconstruction, the threat was gone.

  So do her job and let Nalchek do his.

  As quickly and efficiently as possible.

  She tightened the belt of her robe and went to get a cup of coffee.

  “You didn’t win, Jenny.” She took her coffee over to the worktable. “But I’m going to work very hard, and you’d better help me. I’ve got to find out what you look like.” She sipped her coffee and looked down at the skull. “You’ve already caused a good deal of trouble and hurt. Let’s get this done.”

  No answer.

  But … sorrow. Overwhelming sorrow.

  Eve closed her eyes. “Okay, I guess I forgot for a moment that you’re the victim here. You’re so strong, little girl, that it’s easy to forget. I got upset when I thought you were trying to control me. It brought back memories of that time I told you about when I had to fight off that monster whose skull I was working on.”

  Pain.

  “Am I … a monster?”

  She seemed to be constantly hurting this child, Eve thought in frustration. But at least Jenny was talking to her again.

  “No,” Eve said quickly. “I didn’t say that. I just said it reminded me of— I was very defensive during that time.” She grimaced. “And evidently I still have lingering aftereffects that make me—” She stopped and then said, “And I’m finding it awkward talking to you. I don’t know whether
I’m speaking to this skull or if you’re a spirit floating around somewhere.”

  “I don’t really feel any connection to that skull. But I’m not floating around, either. I’m … just here.”

  “But you didn’t contact me until I took that skull out of the box.”

  “But I knew I was coming … to someone who was important. I knew that you were waiting for me.” She paused. “And I was waiting for you.”

  “Because you knew that I could help that sheriff find out who you are?”

  “I guess that was why. It’s all coming back to me in bits and pieces. I only know what I have to do. But I … don’t really know what your part is going to be.”

  “That’s not very helpful. And what do you have to do, Jenny?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Okay. I may not need to know your motives. You told me your name was Jenny. What’s your last name?”

  “I don’t remember. Only … Jenny.”

  “But you remember that you want to know more. That it’s important to you that I finish this reconstruction.”

  “Yes. I have to know. I have to stop him. Because it’s going to go on. When the sheriff pulled me out of that grave, I could feel him watching me.”

  “Him? Who?”

  “I don’t know. I just know … he was watching. And he was angry.”

  “The man who killed you?”

  Silence.

  “Surely you remember that, Jenny.”

  “I don’t,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Eve. It’s all a blur until I came to you. I think it’s supposed to come to me slowly. I remember being angry and telling myself that I mustn’t show him I was afraid. He likes me to be afraid. I remember thinking that it had been a long time, and maybe I wasn’t ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “What was coming. But nothing good can come until it’s finished.”

  “Double talk. Until what’s finished?”

  Silence.

  “Okay, I’m being impatient. Let’s go through this slowly and logically. I’ll ask you questions, you try to answer. You think your name is Jenny but you don’t know the last name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember your mother or father?”

  “No.”

  “Brothers? Sisters?”

  “No.”

  “A place, a house?”

  “No.”

  She hesitated. “You do know that you’re not … as you were? That you’re not the Jenny who was born in … You’re a spirit, Jenny.”

  “Yes, what they call a ghost. I’ve known that for a long time.” She paused. “But it confused me. Because I couldn’t understand why. I was just there, in that place, and I was alone. All I understood was that I had to be patient. I had to wait.”

  “To find the person who took your life?”

  “That was a part of it.”

  “I would think it would be a big part.” She stopped, hesitating again. She didn’t want to go down this path. She was getting the impression that Jenny was being truthful but that the girl was lost and bewildered, and Eve didn’t want to add pain to the mix. “You don’t remember how you were killed?”

  “No.” A pause. “Am I supposed to remember?”

  “Perhaps not. My daughter Bonnie had no memory of the time she was killed. And I had no body to examine and tell her.” She added, “There’s a terrible wound in this skull. You said you didn’t remember its hurting. You don’t remember who did it? You don’t remember the pain when he did it?”

  Silence. “I remember pain.” Her voice was suddenly panicky. “Not then. Not then. Before. Before. Not my head. Hands. Please don’t do it. It will take it away. Please don’t—”

  “Jenny.” Eve was frantic, too. She had to stop that agony she was sensing in the child. Dear God, why had she even gone down this avenue? “I’m sorry. It’s not here any longer. No pain. All the bad things are gone. You don’t have to remember him. We’ll find him for you.” She wanted to reach out and hold her in her arms, to comfort her, but how could she do that, dammit? “Forgive me.”

  “Are you crying, Eve? Why?” Jenny’s agony was gone, and there was only curiosity.

  She was crying, Eve realized. Two tears were running down her cheeks. “Because I screwed up.” She wiped her cheeks on her work hand towel. “And I didn’t mean to hurt you. I told you that talking to you is awkward for me.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going to hurt you and what’s not. It’s all experimental between us. So I’d better be quiet and just do what I’m best at.” She started to carefully remove the depth markers. “Because that sheriff who sent you to me gave me some very bad news, and I promised him I’d see if I could get him answers.”

  “I know.”

  Her hand hesitated midway in the act of taking out another marker. “And do you know why I promised him?”

  Sadness. “His friend, Ron. I told you it was going to keep on, Eve.”

  She took out another marker. “Yes, you did. Was it the same man who killed—” She wasn’t going down that road again. “Do you know because of some supernatural instinct or because I know?”

  “Because of you. I know what you know. I feel what you feel.” She added simply, “I like that, Eve. I don’t feel as lonely.”

  Eve was touched, but she could see problems on the horizon. “Let’s hope it’s only until I finish this reconstruction. Then maybe we can find your parents.” She took out another marker. “I’d like that, Jenny. To send you home is my main goal of doing this.”

  “Home…” Jenny said. “I don’t think that I—”

  “Hush, now.” Eve’s brow was wrinkled with concentration. “I’ve got to fill in the depth for accuracy and then we’ll start to work together…”

  CHAPTER

  3

  “Coffee.” Joe set her cup on the worktable beside her. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into eating supper?”

  “No.” She took his hand and put it against her cheek. “Thanks. Sorry I’ve been antisocial.”

  “That’s an understatement. You were working when I got up this morning, and you’re still at it this evening.” He kissed her on the forehead. He took a step back and studied the reconstruction. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re approaching the final stages. That’s remarkable. I’ve never seen you work this fast.”

  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.”