Authors: Iris Johansen
Tags: #Kidnapping, #Eve (Fictitious character), #Duncan, #Women Sculptors, #Fiction, #Kidnapping - Investigation, #Investigation, #Suspense Fiction, #Facial Reconstruction (Anthropology), #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Espionage
“I don’t want you to owe me.”
“Do you think I’m lying? I’m not lying.”
“Catherine, I don’t think you’re lying.” The woman’s pain was too agonizingly obvious. “I believe you’re going down the wrong road with me. But you’ve got me so dizzy, I have to straighten my head.” She got to her feet. “I think I’ll go for a walk and do a little thinking.”
“May I stay here and wait for you?”
“Politeness?” Eve smiled faintly as she headed for the front door. “That’s the first hint I’ve had of that quality from you. How refreshing. Yes, you may stay. Have some more coffee.”
“I will.” She moistened her lips. “I know you don’t like to be pushed. But I did it for Luke. It’s all for Luke.”
Eve nodded. “I know, Catherine.”
“Eve.”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“I thought I should tell you. Joe Quinn may phone you. I set up the call that took him away this morning. There was no emergency call on the south side.”
“I suspected that might be the case,” she said dryly.
“I had to see you alone.”
“Then you’ve accomplished your aim.” She shut the screen door behind her and drew a deep breath. She could still feel the waves of emotion Catherine was emitting. She’d had to escape before she wavered and gave in to the woman’s plea. She was still wavering and caught in that web of pity and empathy. That photo of Luke Ling had touched her heart.
But Catherine was clever, even calculating, and she had probably planned on that response from Eve. What did she know? That might not even be Catherine’s child. Maybe Luke was just another pawn in one of the CIA’s complicated agendas.
But Eve didn’t believe that. Her every instinct was telling her that Catherine’s story was tragically, painfully true.
Professionals didn’t rely on instinct. Not when it concerned the CIA. She didn’t know Catherine Ling, but she had a minimal knowledge and respect for Venable. He was at least a starting point.
She took out her phone and dialed his number.
“I was expecting to hear from you,” he said with a sigh when he picked up. “You couldn’t just send her on her way?”
“How much am I to believe about the kidnapping of Luke Ling?”
He was silent a moment. “Everything. Catherine can be deceptive, but not about her son.”
“You bastard. Nine years.”
“I was under orders not to disturb our relationship with Rakovac. He’s very volatile, and he still has a deep hatred of Catherine.”
“So you let him keep a child prisoner rather than rock the boat? How do you know that he wasn’t mistreated? That would be the best way for Rakovac to get his revenge.”
“I made it clear that we wouldn’t tolerate that happening.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “How would you know? Did you just take his word for it?”
“Yes, with appropriate threats of repercussions.”
“Dear God.”
“It’s all I could do. It might have been enough.”
“If I were Catherine, I’d have strangled you.”
“But you’re not Catherine. She’s CIA. She knows the dirty underbelly of the world better than you ever will. And she’s aware that I was the only man standing between her son and Rakovac.” He added, “If I could have run the risk, I would have sent a Special Forces team in to get Luke. But I didn’t have that option. I couldn’t even give Catherine reports on her son. Rakovac didn’t keep him with him in Moscow. He’d sent him away and undercover almost immediately after he was kidnapped.”
Eve’s stomach clenched. “Then how do you know he’s still alive?”
“We’re not entirely sure. Rakovac calls Catherine now and then to taunt her and gives her so-called reports on her son. He hasn’t let her talk to him since about a year after he was taken.”
Eve felt cold and sick. Eight years with no way to know if that little boy was alive or dead. “But, of course, she still takes the calls.” Eve would do the same. There was always hope, and you could bear the torture as long as the faintest chance existed that it would bring a child home. “Why didn’t you tell me this when you first asked me to do the age progression?”
“I didn’t want you to do it,” he said bluntly. “I was only paying lip service to a bargain I made with Catherine. The current files on Rakovac are top secret, and we made sure they were kept away from Catherine. They contain surveillance as well as contacts that she had no knowledge about from her previous assignment in Moscow. She wanted those files.” He paused. “And she wanted your help. To get them, she risked her neck going after Ned Winters and his daughter, who were being held hostage in Colombia. You may have heard of them. They’ve been all over the TV.”
“Who hasn’t? The father was murdered, you saved the girl.”
“Catherine saved the girl.”
“And you gave her the file?”
“I kept my word. The director was more concerned with getting the Winters father and daughter free. The Rakovac connection has been disintegrating lately.” He paused. “He’s becoming unstable.”
“And where does that leave that poor kid?”
“I gave Catherine the file. I can’t do anything else at the moment. We haven’t entirely distanced ourselves from Rakovac yet. Although we know that he’s left his penthouse apartment in Moscow and gone undercover. It would be better if Catherine stayed out of it until we see fit to make a final break.”
“Better for you. Not better for Luke or Catherine. I can’t blame her for being frantic to move now.”
“Neither can I. But I can’t help her to do it. I have to act for the good of the big picture.”
“Screw the big picture.”
He was silent a moment. “You’re going to help her?”
“I haven’t made up my mind. Though for heaven’s sake someone should be helping her.”
“That was aimed at me,” he said. “If you decide to help her, limit it, Eve. Rakovac is an ugly customer, and he won’t take kindly to you getting in his way.”
Getting in the way of the viciousness of a man who would kidnap a two-year-old and keep him prisoner for nine years? “She only wants me to do an age progression. She doesn’t trust your people.”
“Imagine that,” he said wearily. “Not that I blame her. But she’s a desperate woman, and she’ll take whatever from you she has to take to find her son. Watch yourself, Eve.” He hung up.
She slowly pressed the disconnect button and stood gazing out at the sunlight glittering on the lake.
If she’d hoped to find a reason to throw Catherine out of the cottage, Venable had not given it to her. He’d only shown her a woman surrounded by an ideology where almost everything and everyone was expendable. She had told Eve the truth, and every action she had taken was perfectly reasonable. Eve would have done the same thing in Catherine’s place. Any mother would give up whatever she had to surrender to protect her child.
But Eve had her own life, her own priorities. She didn’t even know if she could help Catherine. Should she become involved in trying to—
“Of course, you can help her. Why are you fretting like this, Mama?”
Bonnie.
She glanced at the porch swing and saw her little girl in the Bugs Bunny T-shirt curled up with her legs beneath her. The sun was shining on her mop of red curls, and her smile was brilliant as that sun. Eve felt her heart warming as it always did when Bonnie came to her. She was always as real to Eve as the last day she had seen her.
“You don’t know that I can help her, Miss Smarty. I’m not that good on age progression.”
“No, but she has the right idea. You do make a connection.” She suddenly chuckled. “It was funny that she was so quick to say that she didn’t mean anything weird. People are so afraid that others are going to think they’re not totally grounded in reality.”
“It’s always so strange to hear you talking like this. So grown-up…”
“I told you once that I couldn’t stay seven forever. Nothing stands still, not even where I am.” She smiled. “But you probably forgot it and are in denial because that idea is a little weird, too.”
“Denying what isn’t real is what keeps us sane, baby.”
“You’re sane, and yet you’ve accepted that a ghost comes and visits you.”
Her ghost, her beloved spirit, her Bonnie. “That’s different.”
Bonnie nodded. “And it took you long enough to accept that I wasn’t a dream or a hallucination or whatever. It’s much more comfortable now, isn’t it?”
“It will be comfortable when I can bring you home and find the bastard who killed you.”
“Comfortable for you. I’m content right now.” She leaned back in the swing. “It’s over for me, Mama. Only the love is left.”
“It’s not over for me.”
“I know.” Bonnie’s gaze shifted to the door. “And it’s not over for her. She’s hurting.”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you go in and help her? Cindy won’t care. She knows that time doesn’t matter.”
“It may matter to her parents.”
“Go find Luke, Mama.”
“I can only try to tell her what he looks like. I may not even be right.”
“And you might be.” Bonnie smiled. “I’ll bet on you. I’ll always bet on you. Why are you arguing with me? You know you’re going to do it.”
“Maybe.” She smiled back at her. “And maybe I just want you to stick around a while. I hate it when you go away.”
Her smile faded. “Me, too. But we have this. It’s a lot, Mama.”
Eve felt her throat tighten. “Yes, it’s a lot.” In the year following Bonnie’s disappearance, her health and sanity had been spiraling downward, and she would not have survived another six months. But after Bonnie had begun to come to her, everything had changed. For years afterward, she wouldn’t admit, even to herself, that Bonnie was not a dream. But she was with her, and that was all that mattered. “But it’s not enough. I want more.”
“Don’t be greedy. It’s not time. Mama,” she said gently. “You have Joe, you have Jane. You have a talent that can help people like Catherine Ling. Now go tell her that soon she’ll know what her Luke looks like right now.”
“Is he still alive, Bonnie?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I think he may be. Sometimes I know things, sometimes I don’t.” She frowned. “But there’s darkness all around Catherine Ling. I hope it doesn’t come from him.”
“I hope so, too.” She turned and headed for the door. “Since you’re pushing me away from you, I guess I’d better see what I can do about—”
“I am pushing you away. I have to do it. But I’ll always come back for you, Mama…”
“I know, baby.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I was just…”
Bonnie was gone.
Good-bye, my love.
She paused a moment, letting regret and memory flow out of her, then opened the door.
“Hello, you were gone longer than I thought.” Catherine Ling was sitting before Eve’s worktable with a laptop open before her. She glanced up, and her gaze warily raked Eve’s expression, trying to read it. “I was wondering if you were going to come back or send in the cops.”
“I don’t think you were worried. You have too much confidence in yourself.”
“I was worried.” She smiled faintly before adding, “That I’d have to start again and find another way to get you. Honesty is all very well, but it doesn’t work with everyone.”
“No?” She crossed the room and stood looking down at the screen of Catherine’s computer. “What are you doing?”
“Bones.” Her forefinger traced the lines of the skull on the screen before her. “I accessed a medical site on the Net. This is the skull of a female child. I thought I’d familiarize myself with the final product that you need to work with.” She pointed to a sliver of bone on the table before her. “That might be the bone beneath the orbital cavity.”
Catherine was already driving forward, grasping at opportunities and concepts, Eve thought. She hadn’t waited for Eve’s decision. In the short time Eve had been gone, Catherine had started to work. “And it might not.”
Catherine nodded. “I figured I’d try it there and be open to change.” She lifted her gaze to meet Eve’s eyes. “I’m always open to change, Eve.”
Eve stood looking at her for a moment. Then she smiled and moved her desktop computer to the other side of the worktable. “So am I. You’d better be extremely careful about every movement you make with those bones. One sign of clumsiness, and I’ll consider the arrangement blown.”
Catherine tensed. “You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it. I’ve warned you that I can’t promise success, but I’ll make a try. There are a good many things I’ll need from you.”
“Anything. How do we start?”
“By calling Joe and telling him that he’s wasting his time.” She pulled out her phone. “And that you’re responsible for dragging him out of bed and sending him on a wild-goose chase.”
She nodded. “I always accept responsibility. I’ll talk to him. It’s what I expected.” She made a face. “From what I’ve heard, he’s a difficult man. I don’t look forward to it.”
“Very wise.” She was getting Joe’s voice mail. “But you have a reprieve. I’ll call him back later.” She hung up and focused on the program she was pulling up on the screen. She reached into the drawer beneath the table and pulled out her scanner. “Now let’s get busy. Give me that photo of Luke.”
Moscow
“She’s left Colombia,” Russo said as he hung up the phone and turned to Rakovac. “According to our informant, Prado, in the CIA, she boarded a flight out of Bogota yesterday afternoon.”
“Destination?” Rakovac asked.
“Houston, Texas. But she missed her connecting flight to Los Angeles.” He smiled. “But a woman of her description boarded a flight to Atlanta an hour later, a last-minute booking. She’s traveling under the name of Patricia Loring.”
“Atlanta,” Rakovac repeated. “Now what could the bitch be doing in Atlanta…”
“Venable could have sent her. There have been some communications between them, but Prado couldn’t determine what they were about.”
“Then we need a new man in Venable’s camp. He knows that Catherine Ling is one of his top priorities.” He leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. “She could be making a move. I’ve been sensing that something was building the last few times I talked to her.”