Shadow Play (3 page)

Jenny. I … think … my name is Jenny
.

Eve went still. Out of the blue, out of the darkness, those words had come to her. Weird. Imagination? Or had she been concentrating so hard on this little girl that the name had just popped into her head, and she'd mentally couched it in terms that the child might use. It didn't matter. The name was there, and she might as well use it. “Jenny. I like it. And it seems to suit you. Much better than Samantha.” She opened the drawer of the desk and drew out her measuring tools. “And now that we've got that out of the way, it's time to get to work. Let's see if we can get the basic stuff done before I have to leave you and get to bed…”

*   *   *

Ringing.

Her cell phone was ringing, Eve realized vaguely with annoyance. She wished she'd turned it off before she'd started working as she usually did. She had just begun the mid-therum section of—

Shit! Jane! Three and a half hours had passed, and she hadn't even realized it.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket and punched the access. “Jane! Hello. Has your flight landed?”

“Yes, I'm in a taxi on the way to my apartment. It took you long enough to answer. I was beginning to worry.”

“I was working. I just received a new reconstruction, and I was doing the preliminary measuring.”

“I should have known. You cut down your schedule while I was there recuperating, and you probably had to make up for lost time.” She paused. “I was a bother. I'm really sorry, Eve.”

“I'm not.” She got up from her worktable and moved across the room to the couch. “I loved every minute of having you with us. I wish you'd stayed twice as long. No, I wish you'd never go away.” She added quickly, “But I know that's not practical. You have a career. So do I. We'll work it out.” She changed the subject. “Good flight?”

“Smooth as glass. So is your new reconstruction a little boy or girl?”

“A little girl. Nine. Found in the vineyard country in California.”

“And what did you name her?”

“Jenny.” She looked back at the skull on her worktable. “I called her Jenny.”

“Pretty name. I've always liked it.”

“So have I. I guess. It just sort of fits her.”

Jane chuckled. “How can you tell? It's a skull, for heaven's sake.”

“I can tell.” She added, “She definitely wasn't a Samantha.”

“Samantha? Where did that come from?”

“You'd have had to have been here.”

“And I'd just as soon not.” Jane paused. “I don't know how you do it. So sad … Never being sure what you're doing is going to help those children's identities to be discovered.”

“I've had a good percentage over the years.”

“I know, and I admire you more than I can say. I call myself an artist, but it's you who are the true artist, Eve. You create life from death.”

“Only the semblance. But sometimes that semblance can cause the bad guys to be caught and revenge exacted.” Her lips tightened as she looked at the reconstruction. “This little girl is so fragile-appearing. It makes you wonder how anyone could bear to hurt her. Yet that bastard crushed her head and—” She broke off. “For some reason, I couldn't do the measuring until I'd done a temporary cosmetic fix on that wound. I was going to wait but it … bothered me.”

“Because you have a gentle heart. Why else would you have taken a street kid like me into your home?”

“Because that street kid was remarkable, and I knew that she'd light up our lives.” She added, “And you're a very good artist, Jane. You have great vision. And it's not of skulls or death.” She chuckled. “Far more socially acceptable. You must be close to your apartment. I'll let you go. Thanks for calling.”

“My pleasure,” Jane said. “Truly. Good luck with your Jenny. I hope you find a way to bring her home to those who loved her.”

“I think I will.” She added dryly, “She seems to have a young sheriff in California rooting for her. He says she wants to be found.”

“A psychic?”

“No, he just has a feeling. Good night, Jane.”

“It's morning here. Have a good day.” She hung up.

Night here. Morning where Jane was living. It only pointed out how far apart they were.

Don't think about it. They were together in their hearts.

Time to go to bed. She wanted to get up with Joe and have a cup of coffee with him before he left to go to the precinct.

She washed her hands and dried them on the towel she kept at her worktable. She turned off the work light. “We made a decent start, Jenny. It will go faster later.”

No answer naturally.

The fragile bones of the skull shone in the glow of the overhead light. Eve moved toward the hall leading to their bedroom, then impulsively stopped and looked back at the reconstruction.

She looked … lonely.

Imagination.

It was a skull, for Pete's sake. Eve had worked on hundreds of reconstructions, and she had never had that feeling with one before. Was she transferring her own sadness about Jane's departure to the death of this little girl? It was possible, but she wasn't going to look for psychological excuses for the strange feeling she'd had since she'd seen Jenny's skull.

Jenny.

I … think … my name is Jenny.

The phrasing was very odd.

Forget it.

She turned and started down the hall.

“Good night, Jenny,” she said gently.

No answer from the darkness.

Of course there wasn't.

No answers.

No loneliness.

Not for the dead whose life had been snatched away.

That was for the people left behind.

She was suddenly filled with anger and rebellion and a desire to hold close to everything that life meant.

She opened the bedroom door. “Joe?”

“Present and accounted for.” He held out his arms. “Come here.”

“I have every intention.” She was shedding her clothes as she crossed the room. “And you'd better account yourself well.” She slipped into bed and wrapped her arms around him. “I need you.” She kissed him and buried her fingers in his hair. “I really need you tonight, Joe.”

“You've got me.” He kissed her again and then moved over her. “Forever…”

*   *   *

“Good night … Eve.”

The words were soft, hesitant, drifting to her in the darkness.

She was sleeping so hard after their hours of erotic lovemaking that she was barely conscious of the words. She was still half-asleep yet she knew she had to answer. “Good night…”

Joe kissed the tip of her nose. “I thought we'd said our good nights, sleepy head.”

“Not you…”

“No? Who then?”

“No one really.” She cuddled closer as sleep overcame her. “Only Jenny…”

*   *   *

“I don't like this,” Ron said bluntly, as Nalchek parked the squad car at the edge of the forest. “I don't want to go blundering through those woods. You're being too damn— You're acting weird as hell, and they're going to tote you off to the funny farm. You're not going to find anything out there in the forest that forensics didn't find.”

“Then why did you come along?” Nalchek grinned as he got out of the vehicle. “It's because you know I'm sharp, and I sometimes notice stuff that others don't. You wanted to be with me, so that I wouldn't be able to say I told you so later.”

“I came along because for some reason I want to keep you from making an ass of yourself,” Ron said sourly. “Imagine that.”

“I'll try,” Nalchek said. “But we've been together a long time, and you haven't seen me make an ass of myself yet.” He grimaced. “Of course, there's always a first time. But I don't believe it's going to be here.” He hesitated. “Look, you said you don't want to go with me to that crime scene. Why don't you stay here and keep an eye out for reporters and other folks who might think I'm as nuts as you do?”

“I don't think you're nuts,” Ron growled as he got out. “I just think you've got this … thing about that poor kid, and you're not thinking straight.”

“So stay here.” He moved toward the trees. He smiled back at Ron. “It's okay. Keep yourself busy looking over those dossiers you brought with you. I'll be right back. Ten minutes. No more.” He disappeared into the woods.

Ron got out of the car and moved to stand in front of the patrol car. Then he moved to the edge of the forest and gazed uncertainly down the trail. Maybe he should have gone with him, he thought. Not that he could have helped. Not that there was any more evidence to gather. But Nalchek was his buddy, and cops supported cops.

Hell, too late now. He'd wait and try to smooth over any feathers he might have ruffled when Nalchek got back. Maybe they'd go down to that bar down the highway and have a couple beers and he'd try to talk sense into—

Pain.

So intense that he didn't know where it came from.

Back.

Chest.

He looked down and saw the knife blade protrude from his chest.

He couldn't breathe. He could feel the blood pour out of his mouth.

He fell to his knees and pitched forward.

Darkness.

 

CHAPTER

2

“Who is Jenny?” Joe poured Eve's coffee and then his own.

Eve yawned. “I must have told you or you wouldn't know her name.” She nodded at the reconstruction on the worktable. “Don't you remember? I gave her a name last night.”

“It must have been after I went to bed. No, you didn't tell me.” Joe sat down across from her. “You just said good night to her before you went to sleep. Not your usual custom.”

“No.” She was suddenly wide awake as that half-forgotten blurred memory came back to her. “Not my custom at all.”

Good night … Eve.

“It's bothering you.” Joe's eyes were narrowed on her face. “Why?”

“No reason, I guess.” She took a sip of coffee. “I thought I was answering her. Crazy. I was half-asleep. Maybe I was dreaming.”

“More than likely. You don't ordinarily have polite conversations with your reconstructions. At least, you've never mentioned it.”

She shook her head. “Never. The conversation is all on my side. As I said, I must have been dreaming.”

“And answered your Jenny when she wished you sweet dreams?”

“Sort of. I think she was actually answering me when I told her good night before I went to bed. She was just kind of … late.”

“Maybe it had to sink home,” he said solemnly. “She may be a little rusty. After all, being buried for eight years might do that to you.”

“Stop making fun of me. If you hadn't worn me out last night, I wouldn't have been having weird dreams.”

“As I recall, you had no complaints last night.”

She grinned back at him. “Not one.” She took another drink of coffee and then put her cup down. “Get out of here. You're going to be late.”

He checked his wristwatch. “Yeah, I'll pour the rest of my coffee into a to-go cup.” He got to his feet and headed for the cabinet. “I need the caffeine.” He gave her a sly glance as he took down the thermal cup. “You kind of wore me out, too. Very aggressive.”

She had been aggressive. She'd felt a desperate desire for life affirmation last night and there was no stronger affirmation than love and sex. “I wanted you.”

“And I thank God for that.” He tightened the lid on the cup. “Every day. Every minute. Come on. Walk me to the porch.”

The sun was coming up over the lake as she followed him out on the porch. Beautiful …

He gave her a quick kiss and started to run down the steps. “You'll be working on that reconstruction today?”

She nodded. “The sooner I get it done, the happier Nalchek will be, and the sooner he'll get out of my hair.”

“I looked him up while you were talking on the phone to him. John Nalchek isn't all that young, early thirties. He was in Afghanistan. Special Forces and he won a chestful of medals. When he came back, he worked for his grandfather in the vineyards for a while. Marcus Nalchek owned the vineyard and half the farmland in central California and was grooming his grandson to take over. But when his grandfather died, Nalchek ran for sheriff and won. His father had held the office before him and he must have grown up with a law-enforcement mind-set.”

“And a massive determination. You should have heard him trying to be polite to me when I wouldn't commit to start work last night on Jenny.” She called as he got into the driver's seat, “He said he felt she was calling to him.”

“And when he went to bed, did she tell him goodnight?”

“I'm going to hit you.”

“I'll look forward to it.” His eyes were twinkling as he started the car. “We didn't go that route last night.”

Eve shook her head ruefully as she watched him drive down the road. He was impossible but he always made her smile when he made the effort. He was probably trying to distract her from thinking about how empty the cottage might be with Jane gone.

Distraction was good. Time to get to work.

She turned and went back into the cottage. Fix toast and orange juice then get to work on Jenny.

Or maybe just check to see if the cosmetic repair on the wound on Jenny's temple was dry.

She moved over to the reconstruction and looked down at the skull.

Right as rain …

But there was nothing right about that wound that had taken a little girl's life.

“
But you were right, it didn't hurt.
”

Eve stiffened. “What the hell?” The words had come out of nowhere.

“
You said there was nothing right about it. If it didn't hurt, that was right, wasn't it?
”