Eve didn't answer for a moment. “What was your nightmare about?”
Heat. Panic. Darkness. A night without air or hope. No, there had been hope. . . .
“I don't remember. Has Toby come back yet?”
“Not yet. I'm not sure it's a good idea to let him out at night. He's half wolf.”
“That's why I let him roam. Now that he's grown, he has to have more freedom. He has too much golden retriever to be really dangerous to anything but squirrels. Probably not even them. He caught one once and all he wanted to do was play with it.” She yawned. “Sarah said it was okay, but I'll stop him if you say the word.”
“No, I guess not. Sarah should know.” Sarah Logan was Eve's good friend as well as the canine search-and-rescue specialist who had given Toby to Jane. “Just keep an eye on him.”
“I will. I'm responsible for him. You know I won't let you down.”
“You never have.” She stood up. “And we'll have a little celebration when you come home from getting your license.”
Jane smiled slyly. “You going to bake a cake?”
“Don't be ugly. I'm not that bad a cook. It would serve you right if I did.” She grinned as she headed for the door. “I'll have Joe stop at Dairy Queen and pick up an ice cream cake on the way home.”
“Much more sensible.”
Eve glanced at her over her shoulder and her expression became troubled. “Maybe too sensible. I wonder if we've made you a little too responsible, Jane.”
“Don't be silly.” She closed her eyes. “Some people are born responsible. Some people are born to be butterflies. You had nothing to do with it. For Pete's sake, you're not even my mother. Good night, Eve.”
“Well, I guess I've been told,” Eve murmured. Her gaze was caught by a sketch lying on the window seat. It was a picture of Toby sleeping on his bed by the fireplace. “That's very good. You're getting better all the time.”
“Yes, I am. I'm not going to be a Rembrandt but genius isn't what it's cracked up to be. I've always thought being driven by art was for the birds. I want to be in control of any career I choose.” She smiled. “Like you, Eve.”
“I'm not always in control.” She looked from the sketch to Jane. “And I thought you wanted to be a search-and-rescue worker like Sarah.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I guess I'm waiting for a career to choose me.”
“Well, you have plenty of time to make up your mind. Although your attitude is a little surprising. You usually know exactly what you're going to do.”
“Not always.” She smiled impishly. “Maybe it's my adolescent hormones getting in the way.”
Eve chuckled. “I doubt it. I can't see you letting anything stand in your way.” She opened the door. “Good night, Jane.”
“And don't work much longer. You've been pulling too many late nights in the last couple weeks.”
“Tell that to Joe. He really wants this reconstruction.”
“That's weird. He's always the one who tries to make you get more rest.” Her lips tightened. “Don't worry, I'll tell him. Someone's got to look out for you.”
Eve smiled as she opened the door. “I'm not worrying. Not with you in my corner.”
“Joe's in your corner, too. But he's a guy and they're different. Sometimes things get in the way of their thinking.”
“Very profound observation. You must repeat it to Joe.”
“I will. He can take it and he likes me to be up-front with him.”
“Well, you're certainly that,” Eve murmured as she left the room.
Eve's smile faded as she closed the bedroom door behind her. Jane's remarks had been typical of her; fierce, protective, and far beyond her years. Eve had gone into the room to comfort and Jane had given her comfort instead.
“Something wrong?” Joe was standing in the doorway of their bedroom. “Is Jane okay?”
“A nightmare.” Eve moved down the hall toward her studio. “But she's not talking about it. She probably thinks nightmares are a sign of weakness and heaven forbid she show any weakness.”
“Like someone else I know.” Joe followed her. “Want some coffee? I could use a cup right now.”
She nodded. “Sounds good.” She went back to stand before her pedestal. “Can you go to the Driver's License Bureau with her tomorrow?”
“Sure. I'd planned on it.”
“I forgot.” She grimaced. “You're a better parent than I am, Joe.”
“You've been working your ass off.” He measured coffee into the coffeemaker. “And that's my fault. Besides, Jane never wanted parents when she came to us. She wasn't Orphan Annie. Hell, she may have been only ten, but she was as street-smart as a woman of thirty. We've done the best we could to give her a good home.”
“But I wanted her to—” She stared blindly at the skull. “She's seventeen, Joe. Do you know I've never heard her talk about going out on a date or to the prom or even a football game? She studies, she plays with Toby, and she sketches. It's not enough.”
“She has friends. She stayed the night at Patty's last week.”
“And how often does that happen?”
“I think she's very well balanced considering her background. You're worrying too much.”
“Maybe I should have been worrying before this. It's just that she's always acted so mature that I forget she's just a kid.”
“No, you didn't forget. You just recognize that the two of you are as alike as two peas in a pod. How many proms did you go to when you were a teenager?”
“That's different.”
“Yeah, you had a drug addict for a mother instead of growing up in a dozen foster homes.”
She made a face. “Okay, so we both had it tough when we were kids, but I wanted something better for Jane.”
“But Jane has to want it too. She probably thinks proms are pretty silly. Can you see her in a frilly dress, getting into one of those stretch limos the kids hire these days?”
“She'd be beautiful.”
“She is beautiful,” Joe said. “And she's strong and smart and I'd want her behind me if I was ever in a tight corner. But she's not frilly, Eve.” He poured her a cup of coffee and brought it to her. “So stop trying to force her into the role.”
“As if I could. No one forces Jane to do anything she doesn't want to do.” She sipped the coffee and then grimaced. “You made it strong enough. You really want to keep me awake to finish this skull, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You're acting out of character. Even Jane noticed it.”
“It's important to the case. Have you named her yet?”
“Of course. She's Ruth. You know I always name them before I work on them. It's more respectful.”
“Just asking.” He moved toward the front door. “I think I hear Toby.”
“And you changed the subject.”
“Yes.” He smiled over his shoulder. “After all these years I need to maintain a little mystery. If I become too predictable, you might get bored with me.”
“No chance.” She looked away from him. “I might have thought I could tell what you'd do next at one time but not anymore.”
“Son of a bitch.”
She looked up to see Joe glaring at her. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”
“No, you damn well shouldn't,” he said roughly. “Even though I know you're thinking it. When are you going to trust me, for God's sake?”
“I trust you.”
“Within limits.”
“Don't yell at me. You set those limits.”