"And you’re afraid I’m still in shock."
He headed for the kitchenette. "No, you’re almost back to normal." She didn’t feel normal. She was still shaking inside and felt as if her every nerve was exposed and raw. Joe probably knew it and was tactfully ignoring it. She had to ignore it too. Just do one thing at a time. First, find out if that bastard had told her lies about Talladega. If he had lied about Talladega, then he could have lied about Bonnie.
But what if he was telling the truth?
They reached Talladega Falls after midnight, but the searchlights and lanterns dotting the surrounding cliffs made it seem like day.
"Want to wait here?" Joe asked as he got out of the Jeep. She was staring up at a cliff. "Is that where they found them?”
“The first skeleton was discovered on the next ridge, the rest up there. The child was found nearest the gorge." He didn’t look at her. "It’s just a hole in the ground.
There’s nothing there now."
But a little girl had been buried at that spot all these years. A little girl who might be Bonnie. "I have to see it."
"I thought you would."
"Then why did you ask if I wanted to wait here?" She got out of the car and started walking.
"My protective instinct." He turned on his flashlight and followed her. "I should know better."
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"Yes." There had been a frost earlier in the evening, and the earth crunched beneath her feet.
Was she walking in the footsteps of the murderer as he carried his victims to their graves?
She could hear the roar of the falls. Then, as she reached the top, she saw it pouring in a long, silver stream across the gorge. Brace yourself. Don’t turn your head. Not yet.
"To your left," Joe said quietly.
She drew a deep breath and tore her gaze from the falls. She saw yellow tape and then… the grave.
Small. So small.
"Okay?" Joe was holding her elbow. No, she wasn’t okay. "She was buried here?"
"We think so. This is where she was found, and we’re pretty certain the mud slide just uncovered her."
"She was here all along. All this time…”
“It may not be Bonnie."
"I know that," she said dully. "Stop reminding me, Joe.”
“I have to remind you. You have to remind yourself." The pain was too strong. Block it out. "It’s beautiful here."
"Very beautiful. The sheriff says the Indians called the falls the ‘place of tumbling moonlight’."
"He didn’t bury them in this place because it’s beautiful," she said shakily. "He wanted to hide them where they’d never be found and brought home to the people who loved them."
"Don’t you think you’ve been here long enough?”
“Give me a minute more."
"Whatever you need."
"God, I hope he didn’t hurt her," she whispered. "I hope it was over quickly.”
“That’s enough." Joe turned her away from the grave. "Sorry, I thought I could stand it, but I can’t. I’ve got to take you away from—"
"Stop right where you are and don’t move a muscle."
A tall, thin man was walking toward them along the edge of the cliff. He was holding a flashlight in one hand and a revolver in the other. "Identify yourself.” The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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“Spiro?" Joe stepped in front of Eve. "Joe Quinn."
"What are you doing up here?" Robert Spiro demanded. "It’s a good way to get shot. We’ve got this area staked out."
"The FBI? I thought you were here in an advisory capacity."
"We were, but we’ve taken over the investigation. Sheriff Bosworth didn’t argue. He wanted out."
"You think the murderer is going to come back? Is that why you’re staking out the graves?" Eve asked.
Spiro glanced at her. "And who are you?"
“Eve Duncan, this is Agent Robert Spiro," Joe said.
"Oh, how do you do, Ms. Duncan." Spiro shoved the gun in his underarm holster and lifted the lantern higher to look at her. "Sorry to scare you, but Quinn should have let me know you were coming."
Spiro was in his late forties with deep-set dark eyes and brown hair that sharply receded from a broad forehead. Lines bracketed both sides of his mouth, and the expression on his face was more world-weary than anything Eve had ever seen. She repeated, "You think he’s going to come back? I know it’s not uncommon for a serial murderer to return to the grave of his victims."
"Yeah, even the very smart ones can’t resist that last thrill." He turned to Joe. "We haven’t found anything yet. You’re sure this is a solid tip?"
"It’s solid," Joe said. "Are you stopping to wait until daylight?”
“No. Sheriff Bosworth said his men know the gorge like the backs of their hands."
He looked at Eve. "It’s cold near these falls. You need to get out of here."
"I’ll wait until you find the boys."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself. It may be a long time." To Joe he said, "I need to talk to you about that ‘solid’ tip. Care to take a walk?"
"I won’t leave Eve alone."
"Charlie!" Spiro called over his shoulder, and a man with a flashlight appeared. "Joe Quinn, Eve Duncan, this is Agent Charles Cather. Take Ms. Duncan to her car and stay with her until Quinn comes back, Charlie."
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Charles Cather nodded. "Come with me, Ms. Duncan."
"I won’t be long, Eve." Joe turned to Spiro. "If we’re going to walk, let’s go to the command center."
"Whatever." Spiro started back along the cliff edge.
Eve watched them. They were closing her out and she was tempted to go after them.
"Ms. Duncan?" Charles Cather said politely. "You’ll be more comfortable in your car. You must be cold."
She looked down at the grave. Yes, she was cold. Cold and tired and empty. The sight of that grave had nearly torn her apart, and she needed a little time to recover. Besides, Joe would not let her be closed out for long. She started down the cliff. "Come on, I have some hot coffee in the Jeep."
"Could I have another cup?" Charlie Cather leaned back in the passenger seat. "I’m really feeling this cold. Spiro says I need to toughen up, but I tell him it’s from living in South Georgia all my life."
She poured him more coffee. "Where in South Georgia?”
“Valdosta. Do you know it?"
"I’ve never been through there, but I’ve heard about the university. Have you ever gone to Pensacola? I used to take my daughter there on vacation."
"Every spring break. Nice beach."
"Yes. Where’s Agent Spiro from?"
"New Jersey, I think. He doesn’t talk much." He grimaced. "Well, not to me. I’m new at the Bureau, and Spiro’s been there forever."
"Joe seems to respect him."
"Oh, so do I. Spiro’s a great agent.”
“But you don’t like him?"
"I didn’t say that." He hesitated. "Spiro’s done profiling for nearly a decade. It does something to a man."
"What?"
“It… burns him out. Profilers usually socialize only with other profilers. I guess when you’re a The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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man who stares at monsters every day, it’s hard to talk to someone who doesn’t do that too."
"You’re not a profiler?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. They just accepted me into the unit and I’m still training. I’m here to tote and carry for Spiro." He took a sip of coffee and then said quietly, "I’ve seen your picture in the paper."
"Have you?"
"I’m sorry if that’s your little girl they found up there."
"I’ve known for a long time that there was no hope. I just want to bring Bonnie home so I can lay her to rest."
He nodded. "My dad was MIA in Vietnam and they’ve never found the body. Even when I was a kid I used to worry about where he was. It didn’t seem right that he was lost there."