Shadow Play

  Silence, then a wistful, “But he’s not you, Eve.”

  What was she supposed to say to that?

  “I’ve upset you. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Jenny added quickly, “There’s always the music.”

  The music again. It seemed to be Jenny’s safe haven when she was upset or afraid. “Yes, you told me it was always there. What kind of music?”

  “All kinds. I like Chopin best. He makes my heart sing. Though Brahms soothes and takes away the pain.”

  And it was breaking Eve’s heart that she was the one who had caused that pain. She moved toward the reconstruction. “I have to do the computer program on the reconstruction now. But you might remember something else, that there are always the memories of you that are held by the people who loved you.” She added, “Who still love you, Jenny.”

  No answer.

  Jenny was gone.

  And Eve was looking down at the reconstruction of that little girl who had worn her pretty white dress to please Eve and make her happy.

  She blinked back the stinging moisture and started to set up her computer.

  It’s the right thing to do, Jenny.

  12:40 P.M.

  “Sorry, I was a little late, Ms. Duncan. I know you requested a morning pickup.” Ted Donner, the FedEx driver, was entering her package onto his computer. “The company had me pick up a few packages on another route.”

  “No problem. I had some computer work to do anyway.” She smiled. Donner had been covering this route for the last four years, and he’d always been reliable. “Just so it gets to California tomorrow. I have a sheriff out there who will be on my case if it doesn’t.”

  “We’ll get it there.” He turned and ran down the steps. “Have a nice day.”

  “You, too, Ted.”

  Eve stood there watching the FedEx truck drive away from the cottage and down the road. Usually, she felt relief and satisfaction at a job well-done when she saw her reconstructions depart her custody.

  Not this time.

  She was feeling sad and a nagging sense that she had failed Jenny.

  Nonsense. She had done exactly what Nalchek had asked of her. It was possibly the best reconstruction she had ever done. Any emotional backfire had to be caused by the fact that she had begun to be too close to the little girl. It had been logical and practical for her to send that skull and the other information to law enforcement, who had the means to take the search a step further.

  Logical.

  Almost from the beginning, there had been nothing logical about her approach to Jenny’s reconstruction. She had that in common with Nalchek. They had both been swept away by the mystery that surrounded Jenny. That might have been a good thing because it had caused both of them to exert all their efforts to solve that mystery.

  But now her part was over, and logic had to rule. She’d feel better after she called Nalchek and told him that Jenny was on her way to him.

  She turned and went back into the cottage.

  Empty.

  Of course, it was empty. Joe was at work.

  And she was done with Jenny and had told her that she was now in Nalchek’s hands.

  She took out her phone and dialed Nalchek. “I’ve just FedExed the reconstruction to you,” she told him when he picked up. “I think you’ll be pleased. She has a very memorable face and should be easy to ID if you’re able to get cooperation from the media. I’m doing a last check of the computer photos, and I’ll be e-mailing them to you later today.”

  “Great.” Nalchek’s voice was sharp. “And you overnighted that skull?”

  “Of course. She should be there before ten tomorrow.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.” He paused. “And I just got back from a memorial service for Ron Carstairs. It was hell.”

  “They usually are. And I’m the one who is sorry for your loss. I hope when you get the reconstruction, that it will help you to feel a little better.”

  “Thanks,” he said curtly. “But that may take a long time.” He hung up.

  So much for calling Nalchek to make her feel what she’d done was worthwhile. It had only reinforced how wrong everything had gone on Jenny’s case.

  She found her gaze wandering over to the couch where she’d last seen Jenny.

  Of course, she wasn’t there.

  Work.

  Finish up the photos.

  That would distract her.

  She put her phone on her worktable and opened her computer.

  2:45 P.M.

  One more adjustment …

  Eve zeroed the computer camera in on Jenny’s delicately pointed chin that she’d sculpted on the reconstruction.

  And her cell phone rang.

  Joe calling to check? She’d tell him she’d call him back.

  Not Joe.

  FedEx.

  Dammit, had she forgotten to fill out one of those many boxes on the form?

  She punched the access. “Look, did I make a mistake? Can we correct it on the phone? That box has to be in California in the morning.”

  “No mistake, Ms. Duncan. This is the dispatcher, we just wanted to make sure that the driver picked up your package. We show he did, but you’re the last one before we lost contact.”

  She stiffened. “Lost contact?”

  “I can’t talk to you any longer. I was just authorized to check. We have the police and a company representative who will be on their way to—”

  “Police? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “An accident,” he said quickly. “Our FedEx driver had an accident.”

  “What? Where?”

  “On Quinn Road, a few miles from the expressway. That’s why we were almost sure he’d made the pickup.” He paused. “But we can’t locate the package. Don’t worry, I’m sure that we will. And, as I said, a company representative will—”

  “Can’t locate the—” She jumped to her feet. “This is weird as hell. And why would anyone send the police with that FedEx rep?” She was heading for the front door. “You’re not telling me the truth.” She slammed the door, locked it, and ran down the porch steps. “Let me talk to your supervisor.” No, that would just be adding to the red tape. “Never mind.” She hung up and called Joe as she jumped into the Jeep. Voice mail. “Joe, something crazy is happening with that FedEx I sent out a couple hours ago. I’m on my way to check it out. Call me.”

  Her foot pressed the accelerator, and the Jeep leaped forward.

  * * *

  She saw the white FedEx truck a mile before she approached the expressway.

  But there was no sign of a crash or another vehicle. Yellow crime-scene tape was barricading the area around the truck. Police squad cars, a forensic van, and an ambulance were parked along the road.

  Not good.

  She parked behind the barricade and jumped out of the Jeep. She lifted the tape and ducked beneath it.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, you’ll have to go back.” A young policewoman ran forward. “This is an investigation and you’re not allowed to—”

  “What kind of investigation?” She looked at the woman’s badge. “Officer Maddox. I just received a call from the FedEx dispatcher to tell me that I’d be receiving a visit from the police and the FedEx rep. Why?”

  “I’m sure that one of the detectives will be able to tell you what you need to know. But you really do have to get beyond the tape and let us get your statement. It’s not—”

  “Eve, what the hell are you doing here?” Detective Pete Salyer had come around the truck. “I just called Joe and left a message for him. He’s with the captain and the mayor at some council meeting. I thought he’d want to know.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d known Pete for years, and she liked and trusted him. “Know what?”

  “A murder practically on his doorstep would interest him.”

  Shock surged through her. “Murder?”

  “The FedEx driver was shot at close range. No one heard the shot, so we
think the weapon had a silencer.” He looked around at the trees lining either side of the road. “No houses. So far, we have no witnesses.”

  “Murder,” she repeated numbly.

  “She said that the company dispatcher phoned her about the truck,” the police officer said. “We wouldn’t allow that, would we, sir?”

  “No way,” Pete said flatly. “What’s happening, Eve?”

  “I have no idea.” She shivered. That pleasant young man to whom she’d given the reconstruction only hours ago was dead. “The man who phoned me said he was the dispatcher and there had been an accident. The package I’d given the driver was missing.”

  “No accident. And we haven’t had a chance to determine if there was anything missing from the truck.” Pete turned and headed for the truck. “But I think it’s time we checked it out. I’ll talk to one of those FedEx bigwigs and see if they can pull up the info.”

  Officer Maddox grimaced. “Look, I’m sorry that I wasn’t more helpful. I was just trying to do my job.”

  “And you did it,” Eve said. “I must have looked pretty wild when I jumped out of that Jeep. And my story was just as improbable. Don’t apologize.”

  Pete came back fifteen minutes later. “A record of a package being sent by you at 12:42 P.M. No package in the van. We’ll go through the entire van later for other missing packages but that’s a positive.”

  “I don’t believe you’ll find any other missing packages,” Eve said. “I think he got what he wanted.” Her phone rang. “It’s Joe.”

  “Are you okay?” Joe said the instant she picked up.

  “Yes, I’m not the one who got shot. It was that poor driver.”

  “Yeah, I got Pete’s message. Right before I got yours. It scared the hell out of me. I’m on my way,” he said tersely. “Are you at the crime scene?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stay there. Stay with Pete. Twenty minutes.” He hung up.

  CHAPTER

  4

  Joe arrived in fifteen minutes, and he fought his way through the police and media crews that had just arrived to where Eve was standing in the trees. “Talk to me.” His expression was grim. “Tell me everything.”

  “There’s not much more to tell.” She went over the entire phone conversation in detail. “He said he was a dispatcher. At first it sounded legitimate, then it got weird. It bewildered me. And all that about the police and FedEx reps coming to see me didn’t sound right. I’ve been standing here trying to piece it together.”

  “And what did you come up with?”

  “That he wanted me to be suspicious. He wanted me to suspect something wasn’t as it should be.” She met his eyes. “He wanted me to go try to find out the truth.”

  “And you did it.” His jaw tightened. “He could have ambushed you, too. Just as he did that FedEx driver.”

  “You know I keep a gun in the glove box.” She added, “And I was already suspicious. I wouldn’t have been that easy.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” His hand reached out and gently touched her cheek. “But I think you wouldn’t have been so eager to run out of the house if your precious reconstruction wasn’t in danger.”

  “I don’t know if I would or not.” She could feel the fury that she had been trying to subdue start to rise. “I do know I’m angry as hell that Jenny’s reconstruction was stolen. All I have now are those computer photos that I—” She stopped. “The photos.” She whirled away from Joe. “The photos, Joe. That’s the only documentation I have on the reconstruction. I was going to send them to Nalchek later today, but I—”

  “You were interrupted.” He took her elbow and strode toward his car. “And you weren’t ambushed because the killer had something more important he had to do first.”

  * * *

  There was a squad car in their driveway, and the front door was wide open.

  “It’s okay,” Joe said, as Eve tensed beside him. “At least, this part is.”

  “This part? What’s happening?” Eve asked.

  “Don’t panic. I phoned ahead when I was on the highway and told one of the officers at the crime scene to check out our house and surrounding area to make sure that—”

  “You could have told me.” She got out of the car and headed quickly for the steps. She had panicked when she’d seen that open door.

  And the panic didn’t abate when she saw the face of the gray-haired officer who met them at the door.

  “Officer James Kiphart, ma’am. You’re Ms. Duncan?”

  “That’s right.” She looked beyond him to her workstation. “Dammit, where’s my computer?”

  “It’s missing?” the officer asked. “I was hoping that we’d scared the thief off before he was able to steal anything. The lock was broken, and the door was wide open, but nothing appeared to be missing.”

  She ran over to the worktable. The place that her computer usually occupied was vacant. The notes and measurements she’d used to reconstruct Jenny were no longer in the binder on the dais.

  “Would you like to fill out a report?” Officer Kiphart asked.

  “Not now.” Joe was standing beside her. “Maybe later. You checked out the other rooms?”

  “Clean as a whistle. Like I said, I hoped that I’d scared him off.” He was looking sympathetically at Eve’s stricken expression. “Maybe your home insurance will cover the computer.”

  “Maybe,” Joe said. “We’ll look into it. Thank you for coming so promptly, Officer. I’ll help with the paperwork and give you a statement when I get back to the precinct.”

  It was a clear dismissal, and the officer nodded and headed for the door. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get here in time to catch your thief, Detective Quinn. I’m afraid you’ll have to replace that lock.” He nodded at Eve. “Good day, ma’am.”

  “Good day.” She was still looking at the place on the worktable where her computer had been and paid no attention to the door closing behind the officer.

  “How bad is it?” Joe asked quietly.

  “Bad,” Eve said. “He took all my notes on the reconstruction. And he made sure the photos couldn’t be copied by stealing the entire damn computer.” She swallowed. “And I don’t have the actual reconstruction of the skull. He took care of that when he killed that FedEx driver.” Her hand was shaking as she brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “I have nothing left of Jenny. She’s gone.”

  “God, I’m sorry, Eve. Look, you know exactly what she looked like. Can’t you draw a sketch and send it to Nalchek?”

  “Yes, but that wouldn’t be enough without the reconstruction. Nalchek wouldn’t be able to persuade any of the media to act without proof it was based on the actual skull. It would just be my word, and it’s a damn cynical world.”

  “It was a great reconstruction.” He pulled her into his arms. “I know how hard you worked, how glad you were that you had something concrete to send to Nalchek.”

  And Jenny had been so much more to her than that. The spirit of that little girl had reached out and touched her, stirred her curiosity, her sympathy, and something … deeper. “I’ve lost her, Joe.” She nestled her head in his chest. “It’s all crazy. Why would anyone be so paranoid that he’d kill someone just to get his hands on that reconstruction? She was only a nine-year-old little girl.” She had a sudden aching memory of Jenny in that white eyelet long dress smiling at her across the room. “I hate this. I can’t stand feeling this helpless.” She stepped away from him. “That call I got had to be from him to lure me away from the cottage. He’d gotten his hands on the reconstruction, but he had to have the complete package.”

  “That’s my take on it.”

  “Why? Why does Jenny have to remain lost?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “Him? I don’t even know if it’s a male or female. I just instinctively call him he.”

  “The biggest percentage of little girls are killed by males. Sexual predators go after—”

  “I know that. I don’t want
to hear it again. I don’t want percentages. I want Jenny’s killer to be tied up and sent to the electric chair.” She whirled away and headed for the porch. She felt stifled in this room. “Can you get forensics out here right away to test for trace and prints?”

  He nodded. “No problem.” He started down the steps. “And I’ll take another look around the cottage grounds just to make sure that he didn’t leave any evidence. Stay here where I can see you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She pulled out her phone. “But I have to call Nalchek to tell him he won’t be getting that reconstruction … and why.”

  He nodded and disappeared around the side of the cottage.

  She could hear him moving through the brush, and she knew that he was doing that so that she’d feel safer. Joe was usually panther-silent courtesy of his SEAL training. He needn’t have bothered. She wasn’t frightened, she was only angry.

  She punched in Nalchek’s number. “You won’t be getting the reconstruction,” she said jerkily when he picked up. “You can’t be sorrier than I am.” She briefly went over the events of the afternoon. “You were right, the killer came looking for that skull.”

  “Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

  “I’m not hurt. But as I told you, that FedEx driver is dead.” She was looking out at the lake. “And I have no idea where that computer and reconstruction are going to end up. They may be at the bottom of the lake right now.”

  Nalchek was cursing beneath his breath. “There’s nothing that you can do?”

  “Not unless you can find that skull. I can go back and re-create the reconstruction, but I can’t do it out of air. No one in the media will touch it without proof that I used that skull to do it. And what are the chances of that killer’s not destroying it now that he has it?”

  “Zero. Unless he’s a trophy collector.”

  “Then he wouldn’t have buried the skull in the beginning. No, he wanted her lost forever.” Another wave of anger poured through her. “And I won’t let it happen. He’s not going to win, Nalchek.”

  “You just told me you couldn’t do anything.”

  “I told you I couldn’t do the reconstruction again. But I’m not going to let him get away with this. I’ll make sure he won’t stay free and gloating over killing that little girl.” Her voice was shaking. “There has to be a way, but I’m not thinking straight right now. I’ll call you after I go over everything and see what my options are.”