Blind Alley (3 page)

"Damn you, Joe."

He took out two glass eyes and handed them to her. "Give her eyes."

She jammed them into the sockets and whirled on him. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice was shaking. "For Christ's sake, why didn't you tell me?"

"The same reason you never let anyone give you photos of your subjects. It might have influenced you."

"Of course it would have influenced me. What the devil is happening?" Her gaze flew back to the skull. The likeness was remarkable. The face was fuller, more mature, the eyes a little closer together, but the features were very similar. Shockingly, frighten-ingly similar. "It's Jane, damn you."

Chapter Two

"I agree she looks like Jane might in ten years or so." Joe studied the reconstruction. "I was hoping to hell she wouldn't."

"Because this woman looks like Jane and she was murdered." She folded her arms across her chest to ward off the chill. "And you knew what I'd find when I finished this reconstruction. You knew that it would be Jane."

"For God's sake, it's not as if I was trying to keep it from you any longer than I had to," he said roughly. "I did what I had to do." He took the drop cloth on the workable and threw it over the skull. "Now it's done and we know."

"We don't know anything. At least, I don't." She whirled and went over to the sink and started to wash the clay from her hands. They were shaking. Don't panic. It couldn't happen again. Not twice. Not after Bonnie. "But I'm going to know, Joe. I'm going to know everything. You tell me what's happening."

"I'll tell you what I know now. We'll find out the rest. I promise, Eve." He went across the room to the coffee table and opened his laptop. "The woman was found in a shallow grave outside Cal-houn. Her fingers were burned and her face was just a skull. The rest of the body was intact. Christy said that she'd been warned by Scotland Yard that the perpetrator might be moving into this area after allegedly killing a woman in Birmingham."

"Allegedly?"

"It's not exactly the same MO. The woman was burned to death. And no real attempt was made to hide her identity. Except her face was destroyed." He pulled up the case history. "She was a prostitute and an illegal alien and they didn't find a snapshot until a few weeks later when the story was on page five. I had to dig to find it." He swiveled the laptop around toward Eve. "Not as close, but the resemblance is there."

Another Jane.

Thinner, lips not as firm, skin not glowing with youth but similar features.

"What is this?" Eve whispered.

He didn't answer, but brought up another screen. "Inspector Mark Trevor's e-mail. Four victims from the U.K."

She knew what she'd see but it still came as a shock. "They all look like Jane."

"Not entirely. They're not identical, but close enough to be sisters."

And they were all dead. She moistened her lips. "Same serial killer?"

He nodded. "In every case he destroyed the face. By fire, by peeling it off, once it was done by some undetermined chemical."

"To hide their identity?"

"That didn't seem the purpose except in the last case."

She drew a shaky breath. "Then he did it because he hated the way they looked. And that's why he's targeting them."

"It seems the logical conclusion."

"Logical? I don't feel logical. I'm scared to death." Her voice was uneven. "Calhoun is just down the highway and if he peeled off her fingerprints he was trying to make it look like the work of a different killer, with a different MO. He didn't want anyone to know he was in this area. Why?"

"Maybe he didn't want the women in this city to be on the alert."

"But not all of them have Jane's face." Her hands clenched into fists. "And that's what that crazy is looking for. He's trying to destroy everyone who looks like Jane."

"He doesn't know about Jane."

"Then someone who looks like an old girlfriend or his mother. Someone with Jane's face."

"It would follow the serial killer profile."

"Oh, yes, I know all about those profiles," she said jerkily. "I did a lot of studying after Bonnie was murdered, until I almost drowned in them. Well, he's not going to substitute Jane in any of his sicko fantasies. That's not going to happen again."

"No, it's not," Joe said quietly. "I won't let it. Do you think you're the only one who cares about Jane?"

No, of course he loved Jane. But he hadn't lost a daughter. He didn't know the constant terror of it happening again.

"I know." Joe was studying her expression. "You should realize I know how you're feeling. Who knows you better?"

No one. And she wasn't being fair. Fear was clouding her judgment. "I'm sorry. You're as worried as I am. Now what do we do?"

"Contact Trevor and find out all we can about what they know about this creep. His e-mail was scanty at best. I called his cell phone at three this afternoon and got his voice mail. I told him to call me back." He glanced at his watch. "It's after midnight. We may not hear from him for a few hours. It's only five a.m. there."

"Call him again. I don't care if we wake him up."

He nodded. "And we do need to know how they knew the killer moved across the Atlantic if they couldn't put a name to him. The Yard has to have some theories if they've been working on this case for the last three years. We have to know reasons before we can anticipate his movements."

"They only have to look at those photos to know why he's doing this." But she didn't want to look at those photos any longer. They frightened her too much. She turned away. "I'm going to check on Jane."

"She's okay, Eve. We're right here in the next room."

"That's probably what those parents of that little girl in California said before that murderer came into their home and took her."

"Jane's not a little girl. She's a tough, smart kid and anyone who messes with her had better look out."

"No one's going to mess with her. No one's going to hurt her," she said fiercely. "I'm not going to let that happen. Not again. You just call that Trevor and pump him dry. We're going to find that bastard before he finds Jane."

Jane was sleeping peacefully.

No dreams tonight, Eve thought as she looked at her. Or, if there were dreams, they were good. Or were they? She couldn't remember Jane ever telling her about her dreams. Perhaps she should have asked before this. Jane had fit so effortlessly into their lives that it had been easy to take her for granted. It was odd since Jane's personality was as strong as her own. But Jane had never wanted to challenge her. She'd given them both affection, worked hard for her place in their family, and never asked for anything.

What a wonder of a person she was.

And no one was going to destroy that wonder.

She turned and left the room. The next moment she was passing Joe, who was on the phone, presumably with Trevor, and went out onto the porch. She sat down on the top step and leaned her head against the post. The air was clear and cold and the lake was still tonight. It was all beautiful and familiar and home.

But home could become a place of desolation and terror. Who could know better than she that no one was really safe?

"No one, Mama. But you shouldn't worry until there's something definite to worry about. Life's too short."

She turned her head and saw Bonnie sitting in the porch swing. Her legs crossed, dressed in jeans and the usual Bugs Bunny T-shirt. "That's what Joe says. I'm not listening to either one of you. He's too damn logical and you're a dream. I think I have a hell of a lot to worry about."

Bonnie sighed. "I'm not a dream, I'm a ghost. Deep down you know that's true."

"I don't know any such thing. I probably invented you when I was so depressed that I had to have a way to cope or kill myself."

"Yeah, that's why I first came to you." A smile illuminated her face. "And because I missed you."

Eve felt her throat tighten. "I miss you, too, baby."

"You'd miss me less if you let Joe come closer. I thought for a while that you were going to be okay but you pushed him away."

"You know why I did that."

She sighed. "Me, again. It was a mistake but he did it because he loved you."

"I know all that. We're working on it." She looked back at the lake. "Why are you here? You haven't come to me for months."

"You need me. I'll always be here when you need me."

Why was she looking at the lake when she could look at Bonnie? It didn't matter if she was a ghost or a dream, she was Bonnie. She turned and gazed hungrily at her. "I do need you. Every minute of every day."

"I can't be here all the time. And you have other people who love you. Joe. jane."

"Jane may be in trouble. I'm afraid for her."

Bonnie nodded soberly. "I'm afraid for her too. He's close."

"Who's close?"

"The bad one." She unfolded her legs and they dangled above the floor of the porch.

Such a little girl, Eve thought. So small and dear... "You don't know who he is?"

She shook her head. "Only that he's bad."

"Like the man who killed you?"

"I can't think of that time, Mama. It's gone. So I can't answer you. But I know that the man who killed Ruth is twisted and dark."

"I'm glad you can't remember that time, baby." She cleared her throat. "But it's damn convenient you can't tell me any concrete facts. What good is a ghost if she's not useful?"

Bonnie threw back her head and laughed. "I'm useful. I keep you from going around all gloomy and suicidal. Besides, I don't have to be useful. You'll love me anyway."

"Yes, I will."

"And you'll love Jane, no matter what."

"I'm not sure she believes that."

"She's afraid to believe it. She's been hurt too many times."

"That was a long time ago. Joe and I have tried to make up for all those years."

"She's not like me. The bad times are still with her."

"So what the hell can I do?"

Bonnie shook her head. "She has to work her way through it."

"If she has time. If some bastard doesn't kill her like he did you."

"You won't let that happen." She tilted her head, listening. "I think Joe's almost finished talking on the phone. I'd better leave you. Do you know when I'll know you don't need me any longer?"

"I'll always need you."

She shook her head. "You won't need me when you're so close to Joe that you'll share me with him. When you tell him I come to see you."

"And have him tell me I'm nuts?"

"See, you're not ready." She suddenly frowned. "Jane's dreaming again. She's scared. You'd better go to her."

Eve rose to her feet. "She was fine before I came out here."

"She's not now. Wake her. She can't do anything right now. She wants help, but there's nothing that Wake her."

Eve headed for the front door. "If she's not dreaming, your credibility is going to be zilch."

Bonnie smiled. "Wake her. Good-bye, Mama. I'll see you soon."

"You'd better."

She opened the screen door and saw Joe still sitting on the couch talking on the phone. She glanced back at the porch swing and saw what she expected. Vacant. No Bonnie.

"I'll be right with you," Joe said when he saw her in the doorway. "Give me a few more minutes."

She nodded. "I'm going to check on Jane anyway." She moved down the hall toward Jane's room. "It shouldn't take me long."

Joe had hung up the phone and was pouring coffee from a freshly brewed pot when she came back in the room. "Okay?"

She frowned. "No, she was having another nightmare. I got her a glass of water and talked to her for a few minutes."

"Did she tell you about it?"

She shook her head. "She said it was probably indigestion from too much of that ice cream cake after dinner."

"Well, at least she didn't blame my steaks." Joe handed her the cup and poured one for himself. "Did she settle down?"

"Yes, or pretended she did." She sat down on the couch and glanced down at his notepad. "I gather you got through to Trevor?"

"Actually, he called me back before I started placing the call. He said he was an early riser and thought since I sounded so urgent that he'd take a chance on reaching me."

"What did he tell you?"

"Not much. He said that they'd virtually come up with nothing in all these years. That they had no idea of the identity of the killer."

"Then how did they track him here?"

"By following a trail of murders with the same MOs. He said he knew that killings like these were a compulsion that wouldn't stop and there were no more reports in the U.K.... So he started monitoring the killings in Europe and on this side of the Atlantic."

"Then he has to know more than we do. Couldn't you get him to talk?"

"I did most of the talking. He zeroed in on Ruth and wouldn't let go. He was very interested in the fact that her fingerprints were obscured."

"You told him about Jane?"

"No, I told him I wanted a complete report on all the victims sent to me immediately."

"Good. When can we expect it?"

"One-thirty this afternoon. He's bringing it himself."

"What?"

"He's catching the first flight from London. He wants to be here on the scene. He offered his assistance."

"We don't need Scotland Yard."

"But we may need Trevor." He stared thoughtfully down into the coffee. "I caught something in his... I think this case may be an obsession with him. Sometimes it happens that way when you devote years to trying to find a killer."