“No, I didn’t know.”
“I believe you did. You choose to ignore it. I don’t mind.” He dropped down in the chair. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here to make sure the pain doesn’t come back.”
She watched him settle in the chair, and he was once more blending into a barely defined outline in the half darkness.
A shadow figure.
She was feeling no pain at all.
But her lips were burning, tingling.
Her breath was short, her pulse rapid.
Heat was pounding through her body.
Her breasts were taut and ready.
He was no shadow.
CHAPTER
7
BUMPING.
Thunder.
The sound of the rain on the metal roof.
Eve sluggishly opened her lids. Heavy. So heavy.
Her entire body felt terribly heavy beneath the coarse red blanket.
She tried to push the blanket aside.
She couldn’t move, she realized with panic.
She tried again, but her body wouldn’t obey the command.
Bumping again …
Why?
Truck. She was on the floor of a truck, wedged between the backseat and the front.
And there was someone in an orange cap and camouflage rain gear driving the truck.
Familiar …
She should remember who he was, but she couldn’t make any connection with her memory any more than she could with her reflexes.
He was speaking, she realized vaguely. But not to her; she could see the gleam of a computer screen through the space between the front seats. The driver was talking to a freckled, red-haired man who was staring defiantly out of that screen.
Skype? She used it sometimes when Joe was out of town. What did it matter what computer program …
Tense—the red-haired man staring out of the screen was tense, maybe even afraid. It was obvious in every line of his expression.
“You’ve failed me, Blick,” the man driving the truck said regretfully. “You’ve failed both of us. You said that I could trust you, that you’d do what I told you. Kevin would be so disappointed in you.”
“No, he wouldn’t, he’d understand.” Blick moistened his lips. “I had to do it. You told me I had to keep her on the island. You said it was important that she didn’t get in your way.”
“I didn’t tell you to shoot her.”
“She was going to leave the island. She was almost at the plane. I didn’t know what else to do, Doane.”
“So you decided to kill her. Stupid, Blick.”
“She’s still on the island, isn’t she? You’ve got your delay. I bought you time, and you’re yelling at me. Kevin would never do that.”
“But how much time and at what price?”
“She’s not dead yet. I didn’t have a clear shot. She may not die. It’s up to you from now on.”
“It’s always been up to me,” Doane said wearily. “And I’ll handle it. But I may still need your help. Are you still on Summer Island?”
“No, I used my speedboat to meet with a fisherman from Grand Cayman who I paid to take me somewhere I can get a plane to Miami.” He paused. “I thought I’d go into hiding for a while. Joe Quinn is a detective, and he’s going to be mad as hell at me for shooting his daughter.”
“No, I need you. Did you ever know Kevin to hide when the heat was on? We’ve got to be as brave as he would be, Blick. I want you to go to that lake cottage in Atlanta and keep an eye on Duncan’s family. I’ll expect you to be there within a day.”
“I’ll try to be there by that time.”
“Don’t try, you’ve done very well except for this error. Do it.”
Silence. “Do you have Eve Duncan?”
“Of course. She’s with me now.”
“And you wouldn’t have her except for me.” His tone was once again defiant. “I did what Kevin would have wanted me to do. He always said that you had to adjust actions to changing circumstances. That’s what I did.”
“Kevin was Kevin. You are you. You should have done what I told you. It wasn’t necessary to shoot her.” He broke the connection.
Summer Island. They had been talking about Jane, Eve thought hazily. Shooting. Danger. Death. Blick had said that Jane was still alive. She had to know if—
She opened her lips and tried again to talk.
Nothing.
Or maybe not.
She must have made a sound of some sort because Doane was looking back at her.
“Good afternoon, Eve.” He smiled, and she remembered that she’d thought he had the kindest expression she had ever seen. That kindness was still there, but she mustn’t trust it. Jane. He had been talking to someone who had deliberately hurt Jane. Evil.
“I’m sorry, you’re trying to speak, but the drug I gave you is very potent. It takes quite a while to wear off. I chose it because it has very few lingering effects, and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. You really shouldn’t have stirred until I had you safe, but you clearly have a very strong will. But you’ll go back to sleep soon.”
No, she could feel the drowsiness closing in on her, but she had to fight it. Jane.
“You’re looking at me as if you hate me,” he said gently. “How much did you hear? Now what did we say…”
Jane. Jane. Jane.
“Your adopted daughter. Of course, you’re angry and concerned. I didn’t want your Jane to be hurt. You must have heard me tell Blick that he shouldn’t have done it. I’m very angry with him.” He reached down to touch her hair. “I don’t want anyone hurt. You have to believe me, Eve.” He frowned. “Now how else can I put your mind at rest and reassure you of my good intentions? Oh, the young man in the woods. Ben Hudson.”
Ben, lying on the grass with the bloody gash in his forehead.
“He caught me by surprise, and I had to fight him to protect myself. I would never have purposely hurt him. But I have to have your help, Eve. That’s what this is all about.”
She couldn’t speak, but she closed her eyes in silent rejection.
“I know it looks bad for me, but you’re a kind woman. You’ll understand once I explain it to you.” She could feel his hand gently stroke her hair. “I bundled that boy, Ben, up in the truck and dropped him off in the parking lot of an urgent-care facility outside Atlanta. I’m sure that he’ll be fine.”
Eve wasn’t sure of anything. She could only pray that he was telling the truth about Ben and that the boy wasn’t too badly hurt.
And Jane. She still didn’t know how badly Jane was hurt. Was Joe with her by now? How much time had passed since she had run down that muddy road this morning? She opened her eyes to see if she could tell by the daylight streaming into the truck.
Cloudy. Still storming. No way to tell if it was still morning or afternoon. Everything was dimness and confusion.
She could see Doane’s face above her, smiling almost tenderly, and that was the most bewildering of all.
“It will be fine,” he said softly. “Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of you. That’s why I’m here. So that we can take care of each other.”
She couldn’t do what he said. None of this was right. It didn’t matter that she wanted to trust him, that he seemed to have all the loving kindness of a brother or father she’d never had.
Stay awake. Concentrate. Think about Jane. Think about Ben.
But everything was blurring, and she couldn’t think.
Thunder.
Rain on the metal roof.
Rhythmic. Soothing.
“That’s right. Let go,” Doane said. “We’ll get it all straight when you wake up…”
* * *
“HI.” MARGARET SWEPT INTO THE hospital room and plopped down on the chair by Jane’s bed. “How do you feel?” Her eyes narrowed on Jane’s face. “You look much better than you did when you left the island yesterday. You have some color in your cheeks.”