“Thick and kinda bushy.”
“Dark, light, gray?”
“Dark … with gray stuff in them.”
“He was older?”
“Not real old. Just not young.”
This might not be easy. She hadn’t signed on for easy, she told herself in self-disgust. She’d told Joe she could do the job better than his artists, and she’d do it. “Straight across or arched?” When he didn’t answer, she looked up to see his gaze on her face. “Ben?”
“It’s going to be okay,” he said gently. “You’re going to let Bonnie close to you. She told me so.”
He was back on the subject of dreams and ghosts and drifting away from her. She smiled. “Just now?”
“No, I wasn’t sure that I should tell you. Bonnie wasn’t happy about it. She wanted there to be joy. She didn’t want it that way…”
What way? Why would there be no happiness?
Eve?
She kept her smile firmly in place in spite of the icy tension that gripped her. Ignore it. Concentrate on reality and leave the dreams to others. “It will probably be fine. Bonnie and I haven’t gotten together so far, and we’ve managed splendidly.” She looked back down at the sketch. “Straight eyebrows or arched, Ben? I’ll draw both and let you choose.”
* * *
“ARE YOU ALMOST FINISHED?”
Jane looked up to see Joe standing in the doorway. Something was wrong. She could see the tension that was electrifying him. “Yes. We’d have finished before this, but the nose was a little hard for us. Do you need me?”
“I can wait a few minutes.”
He didn’t want to disturb Ben, she guessed with relief, but he didn’t want to wait, either. It must not have been anything directly threatening to Eve, or he would not have cared who would be disturbed. “I think we’re done.” She closed her sketchbook and smiled at Ben. “But Ben was very good. He remembered everything about the man beautifully. He has a fine memory.” She made a face. “Except that this man has all the menace of Peter Pan or Santa Claus. It’s hard to believe that this guy could have clobbered you, Ben.”
“I didn’t expect it. He looked like Mr. Drury.”
She got to her feet. “You keep saying that. But when I tried to draw Mr. Drury, they didn’t look a bit alike. Thanks for helping me out, Ben. If you remember anything else, call me, and I’ll come back.”
“I won’t call you back. That’s the man.” He watched her move toward the door. “You’ll know him when you see him.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Jane.”
She looked back over her shoulder.
Ben was staring at her, his blue eyes were shining, but his expression was troubled. “You mustn’t let it hurt you too much. It’s not the end, you know. It goes on.”
She froze. What did he mean?
Eve?
She knew she wasn’t going to ask him. His mind was full of dreams and ghosts and things that might not exist and probably wouldn’t happen. She’d have to accept all those elements as valid, and she couldn’t do that. She’d face and conquer any threat to Eve, but she wouldn’t be intimidated by this boy at the mere possibility of that danger. “I’m not going to be hurt,” she told him firmly. “Everything is going to turn out fine now that we have this sketch. You just rest now, Ben.” She smiled and followed Joe from the room.
Her smile vanished as she whirled to face him. “What’s wrong, Joe?”
“Plenty. But not anything to scare you. Venable called me, and we definitely can’t trace that phone call from Eve.”
She searched his expression. “That’s not all.”
“No,” he said curtly. “Venable’s agents have located what might be a grave deep in the woods. They’ve started to excavate it.”
“He thinks it might be Tad Dukes, the CIA agent who was watching Eve?”
“He hopes not. But there’s a good chance. Either him or the farmer he stole the truck from. I need to get out there right away.” His lips tightened. “If it is Dukes, then it might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”
“What?”
“Venable takes care of his agents. He’s not going to like the idea that he sent one to his death. I may not have to force Venable to talk.” He held out his hand. “Let me see that sketch.”
She flipped open the book. “I was surprised. Ben seemed remarkably certain of his choices. It was … odd. I thought he might be having me reproduce his friend, Mr. Drury. But the features he described are completely different.”
“I don’t think he’d do that.” Joe was shaking his head as he looked at the sketch. “Maybe a little.”
“Too nice?”
“It’s hard to get around that kindly face. After all these years, you’d think I’d be able to see below the surface. That butcher, Ted Bundy, was a clean-cut, nice-looking specimen, too, but he was totally ruthless.” He handed the sketch back to her. “See if you can have a couple copies made in the administration office here and bring me one to the cottage. I want to show it to Venable.” His lips thinned. “Though I have a hunch that face may already be familiar.”
She tucked the sketch back in her case. “Caleb and I will be right behind you. I’ll deliver your copy at the cottage in an hour or less.”
“Good.” Joe’s started to turn away, then stopped. “You’re okay? I’m not working you too hard?”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “I’ll survive. We’ll worry about me when we have a firm lead on Eve.” She was careful not to show unsteadiness as she walked down the hall toward the waiting room to find Caleb. She was weaker than she had let Joe see, and she would need Caleb’s help to get those copies made. She was sure the hospital wouldn’t react kindly to having their equipment used by a visitor, and she wasn’t in shape for a battle.
Let Caleb do it. He was always ready for battle even when you wouldn’t think he was. He was like a lion lying in the sun and just waiting for prey to stroll by.
Not like Trevor. Trevor always coolly picked his battles to gain maximum benefit.
Why had Trevor suddenly popped into her mind? Don’t think about him. Concentrate on what she had to do for Eve. The sketch was a step toward finding her, a step toward keeping her alive.
“You mustn’t let it hurt you too much. It’s not the end, you know.”
Death. Ben had been talking about death.
Don’t think about that, either. He was a boy caught up in his dreams, and she wouldn’t believe that those dreams would foretell a fate she couldn’t accept.
Death.
No, Eve was strong. Eve was smart. Even now, she was probably working to get away from that bastard and come back to them.
Rio Grande Forest, Colorado
“YOU’RE RIGHT, I DON’T LIKE to see Kevin like this.” Doane stared distastefully at the multitude of tiny red markers that looked like swords stabbing his son’s skull. “Kevin wouldn’t like it either. He’d be angry with you.”
“He’s not pretty at the moment, but it’s necessary to complete the process. The measurements have to be exact,” Eve said. “If it bothers you, go away. I certainly don’t want you here. Go talk to Blick on Skype again. Tell him to stay away from my Jane.”
“You’re being too slow.” He grimaced. “I thought you’d be farther along by now.”
“It’s going as fast as it can go. It’s not as if you’re giving me much rest.” She sat back on her stool and gazed critically at the skull. Doane was right, it wasn’t going as smoothly as most reconstructions. Every move she made seemed weighted and slow. “I have to be absolutely sure with the measurements before I can begin the final sculpting. I assure you that I’m not stalling.”
“I don’t believe you’re stalling.” His gaze was narrowed on her face. “I think maybe you’re sick. You’re pale, and you look kind of pinched. You got the flu or something?”
“No.” She quickly looked back at the reconstruction. Little sleep and the nausea from breathing the gas had taken its toll, but she had hoped she could hide it from Doane. “How do you expect me to look? I’m worried about Jane, and I want out of here.”