Silencing Eve (13 page)

Catherine tensed as she gazed down at the map. “The motel,” she said. “He’s at the motel.”

“That’s my bet.”

Zander was on his feet and heading for the door. “And mine. Stang, tell the helicopter pilot I’ll be up on the roof in three minutes and to set a course for Casper, Wyoming.”

Catherine was right behind him. “How long will it take?”

“Probably thirty minutes.”

Excitement was tingling through her. Thirty minutes, and they had a chance of getting to Eve. But anything could happen in thirty minutes, and she’d seen victory turned to defeat too many times to take it for granted. “I’m calling Venable and telling him to have the state police start surveillance of the motel.”

“Your choice,” Zander said. “But one mistake, and we’ve lost him again. Are you willing to put Eve’s life on the line if one of those troopers isn’t as sharp as you’d want him to be?”

“No.” She looked him in the eye. “Okay, but I’m going with you in that helicopter, Zander. What you know, I’m going to know.”

He gazed at her for a moment. “Have it your own way. You’re not stupid, and you impress me as being fairly lethal. I can see why Eve trusted you.” He added softly, “But don’t get in my way, Catherine.”

“I won’t get in your way.” She passed him in the hall and punched the button for the elevator. “As long as you don’t get in mine, Zander.”

Casper, Wyoming

A SOUND AT THE DOOR
of the motel.

Doane!

Panic iced through Eve.

No! It was too soon. She wasn’t ready.

She jerked her hand from beneath the table where she’d been painstakingly sticking the clay to the underside. Carefully enough? What if it tore loose and fell to the floor?

It would have to do.

She quickly moved the spatula across the face of the reconstruction, smoothing, filling. She deliberately jabbed the spatula into the lower mid-therum area beneath the nose as the door opened.

“Damn!” She turned to glare at Doane as he came into the room. “I told you these cuffs would make me clumsy.” She jerked her head at the indentation she’d made. “Now let me go, and I’ll try to smooth the clay.”

He unlocked the cuffs. “You really chopped up that clay.”

“What do you expect?” She worked quickly, skillfully, to smooth over the place where she’d stolen the clay. “I only had one hand, and I couldn’t—”

That was good enough. Doane would have to examine it under a magnifying glass to tell the difference from the time he’d walked out of the motel room. She sat back and gazed at the skull. “He’s almost as good as new.” Her lips twisted. “Though there are two words in that sentence that are completely bizarre when applied to your Kevin. He was never good nor new. He’s as old as sin.”

Doane took out his handkerchief and carefully unwrapped it. “I washed his eyes very carefully.” He held up the glittering blue orbs. “He’s going to be handsome again. In spite of all the harm you’ve done him, he can’t be made anything but magnificent.”

She looked down at the blue eyeballs shining up at her. This was the part of the reconstruction she dreaded. When she had first placed those eyes in the orbital cavities in the ghost town, it had come as almost a physical shock.

It wouldn’t be so bad this time. She’d be prepared for it. She quickly inserted the blue eyes.

It was just as bad. Worse.

It seemed as if Kevin was glaring at her with supreme malice.

A wave of nausea swept over her.

“He always frightens you, doesn’t he?” Doane said softly. “You act so bold, but in the end he makes you want to go and hide.”

“This skull doesn’t frighten me. Neither does the thought of your son.” She forced herself to look into those glass eyes. “He’s dead. He has no power. He can’t hurt anyone any longer.”

“Tell that to the people in those cities that are going to be blown into the stratosphere. Tell them that Kevin has no power. Tell that to Zander at the moment that I kill him.” He gazed lovingly at the reconstruction. “She brought you back again, Kevin. I made her do it, just as you said I should.”

“Excuse me, your raving is making me ill.” She got to her feet. “And I have to go to the bathroom and wash this clay off my hands.” She picked up the hand towel she’d been using to wipe her hands and carried it toward the bathroom. Just as she opened the bathroom door, she deliberately dropped the towel and knelt to pick it up. From her position, she could see underneath the table to where she’d stuck the clay.

Damn, it was hanging precariously by one end of the piece of clay.

Maybe it would hold.

She snatched the towel up and slammed the bathroom door behind her. She quickly washed her hands of the clay, and then washed her face.

“Hurry up. You’re wasting time. We’re leaving.”

She opened the door.

Doane was at the table, almost directly in front of the place where she’d stuck the clay. He seemed to be cleaning the surface of clay traces and all her work debris.

She stiffened in panic, then tried to hide the reaction. “What are you doing? I’ve never noticed you being particularly fussy about housekeeping before, Doane.”

“You’re messy as hell, and you leave very distinctive evidences of your occupation that are peculiarly your own.”

“Only if you’re on the lookout for a forensic sculptor. Let’s face it, it’s not the most popular profession in the world. And you keep bragging that everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“And that’s the way I want to keep it. I don’t want any questions popping up that might lead anyone to study that explosion at the ghost town more closely. This is what my Kevin would do.” He carefully placed the reconstruction in its leather container, which was much worse for wear from water damage. He glanced at her impatiently. “What are you doing just standing there looking at me?”

I’m hoping you won’t try to pick up any debris that might have fallen on the floor.

I’m hoping that the clay piece under the table will stay fixed.

“What am I supposed to be doing? You tell me that you give the orders.”

“Throw the clothes I bought you into that cloth grocery bag.” He looked at her critically. “And put on a clean shirt. It’s all stained by that clay, and I don’t want you to attract attention.”

“As you command. I promise I’ll do you proud, Doane.” She grabbed one of the cheap white tunic shirts Doane had bought at Walmart and ducked back into the bathroom.

Quick.

Don’t give him a chance to spend more time cleaning that table.

And the soiled shirt? Use it.

She changed the shirt in a matter of seconds and came back into the room. She carried the stained shirt to her bed and packed it into the cloth grocery bag, making sure that a few scraps of dried clay dropped from the shirt onto the bed. She casually pulled the sheet over the clay as she put the grocery bag on the floor. “Anything else?”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re being very accommodating.”

“I want out of here. I’m sick of being so close to you.” She smiled. “And I want my chance to get away from you. Once we’re on the road, I’ll have that chance. I did it once. I can do it again.”

“The hell you can. Do you think that I didn’t make plans to make sure you didn’t slip away from me? The only way you’ll get away is when you’re dead.” He grabbed the reconstruction container, took her arm, and pushed her toward the door. “And then Kevin will have you. He’s been waiting for you. He doesn’t like it that you’ve been keeping him from the little girl.”

It wasn’t the first time that Doane had mentioned that ugliness about Kevin trying to get to Bonnie and that Eve’s connection to her was preventing it. True or false, it struck terror in Eve. She might deny Kevin’s existence as an entity to Doane, but she had doubts. If there were special creatures of love like Bonnie on the other side, might there not also be demons? What did Eve know? All she knew was that by some special grace, she had been given the chance to keep her Bonnie with her even after she had passed on, and her daughter must be protected. “Your Kevin will wait a long time,” she said. “Bonnie is stronger than he will ever be.”

He muttered a curse as he slammed the door of the motel behind them. “Get in the car.” He opened the passenger door and shoved her into the vehicle. He cuffed her right wrist to the seat belt. “No screams, or I’ll gag you.”

“That would look very weird to any bystander.”

“Not if I tie you up on the floorboard. You’d be very uncomfortable, I promise you.” He started the Toyota. “Though the drive won’t be as long as I’d like it to be.”

She glanced at the door of the motel as the car pulled out on the road. Doane hadn’t found the clay message.

Safe.

Not safe. That bit of clay could be found by a maid cleaning up the room and tossed out.

It was the best she could do.

She could only trust that Joe and Jane might be close enough on her trail that they would find the motel.

And then they would have to find that message written in clay that she had so carefully hidden, she thought in discouragement. She wasn’t expecting much, was she?

Not expecting, hoping, praying. It was a very slim chance but the only one she had.

“You’re very quiet,” Doane said. “I guess you don’t want to be gagged. I’m glad you’re being smart.”

She would have to be smart, she thought. She could rely only on herself as she had done in the mountains. She glanced around, trying to see some avenue for escape.

They were on the outskirts of Casper, and there were very few buildings around except the motel.

A tire shop directly across the road.

A strip mall a mile distant.

Police? State troopers?

No. None in sight.

Oh, for a Dunkin’ Donuts.

Joe would not be pleased she’d had that thought. That old, stale joke always irritated him when he knew how hard policemen worked.

Forgive me, Joe
.

Lord, she missed him.

She leaned back on the seat and closed her eyes for a moment.
I’m so tired of this, Joe. I want to see you, touch you. I want this to be over. Let it just be a bad dream
.

She opened her eyes to see Doane in the seat next to her, the passing stream of traffic and the knowledge that the nightmare continued. All exactly the same, she thought dully.

No, not quite.

She heard the throb of the rotors of a helicopter in the distance. Then saw the silver blur of metal on the horizon.

But that was the only thing that had changed in that brief moment of poignant wistfulness, and it had nothing to do with wishes coming true.

She had to make her own wishes come true and fight her own nightmares.

She straightened on the seat and turned to Doane. “So what’s the next step? Where are we going now?”

*   *   *

“CASPER IS ABOUT FIVE MINUTES
away,” Catherine said to Zander as she studied the map on her lap. “And that Starlite Motel should be right there.” Her finger tapped a building. “Have the pilot land somewhere nearby but not obvious enough to cause too much attention. Maybe in those hills over there.”

“It’s difficult not having a helicopter landing cause attention,” Zander said dryly.

“That’s why I said to try those hills.”

“Any other orders?” Zander asked silkily.

“No,” she said quietly. “Because you’re obviously the dominant type who objects to not being in charge. I know you’re in charge. I just have a problem with it when I know I’m just as competent as you are.” She took out her phone. “Now I’m going to call the desk at that motel and see if anyone of Doane’s description is registered and in what room. You do whatever you like about the landing. But please remember we’ll need a car to get to the motel once we land.”

He stared at her for a moment and smiled faintly.

“I had Stang arrange for a rental car before we left Denver. The driver is on standby within ten miles of that motel. All I have to do is call and tell him where to pick us up.”

“Very good.” She started to dial.

“I’m glad you approve.”

“I never doubted that you were an expert in practically every way,” she said coolly. “You’d have to be to have survived all these years. I just question your judgment where daughters are concerned. It’s completely—” She broke off as the desk clerk at the motel answered. She immediately got down to business. During the call, she was aware of Zander’s gazing at her curiously, as if she were some strange, rare species. She didn’t care. She was curious about him, too, and he was stranger than she had ever dreamed of being.

“There’s a man of Doane’s description registered in Room 7A,” she said a few minutes later as she hung up. “He’s easy to describe.” She made a face. “All you have to do is say he looks like your best friend or your favorite brother. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the photos of him. Anyone would trust that face.”

“A number of children whom Kevin wanted lured into his web trusted his father enough to let him bring them to him.”

“So I’ve heard. There’s something completely corrupt about deceiving and harming children.” Her lips thinned. “May they both burn in hell.” She glanced challengingly at him. “Or don’t you agree?”

“Oh, I agree. Just because I expect to be sent to the nether regions myself is no reason to group myself with those beasts. There should be some sort of pecking order.” He leaned forward, and told the pilot, “Put down in those hills while I call for the car.” He glanced slyly at Catherine. “That appears to be the best place.”

She nodded. “And it’s very clever of you to realize—” She stopped as Zander’s phone rang.

“Stang,” he said as he accessed. “We’re in Casper, Stang, is there—” He stopped, listening. “No, don’t double-check. Call Venable and tell him to get the state patrol to be on the alert. No action, just surveillance.” He hung up, and said grimly, “The cameras at the tire shop showed a vehicle of that description leaving the motel parking lot and turning north.”

“Damn.” Catherine’s hands clenched. “How long ago?”

“Ten minutes.”

Ten minutes, and they would have been able to catch them at the motel, she thought in frustration. “Can we turn north and try to locate them in the helicopter?”