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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: Sleep No More
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She was
not
mindless. She was
not
crazy.

And she would not let those bastards rob her of either her mind or her life.

Lake Cottage
Atlanta, Georgia

RUNNING.

Panic.

The trees were all around her, tall shapes in the darkness. Eve could hear the sea crashing against the rocks though she couldn’t see it from here. But she had seen it from the hospital every day for all those years. Sometimes, she’d even been permitted to go down to the shore. But there was always a price.

Always something she had to give up in return.

No one behind her yet.

But how did she know?

Run faster.

Her breath was coming in gasps.

Did she hear someone? A crackling of leaves under a heavy footstep. He’d been a big man. She’d barely managed to get away from him. Could she get away from him again if he caught her? She didn’t want to die.

She wouldn’t die.

Just run faster.

Fight them. Don’t let him kill her.

That bus was right ahead.

Get on it. Lose herself. But she was already lost. She’d been lost as long as she could remember.

Run!

“Eve, wake up!”

A hand grasping her shoulder.

He’d caught her! Fight him.

“Eve, dammit, wake up.”

Joe.

She opened her eyes to see him leaning over her. “Joe?”

Joe. Not the man with the syringe.

The lake cottage, not the hospital by the sea.

No one chasing her through the woods.

“Shh.” Joe was holding her close. “Just a dream, Eve.” He kissed her temple. “But it must have been one hell of a violent one. It took me a couple minutes to bring you out of it. And you almost knocked me out.”

Her arms clung to him with all her strength. Safe. Joe would keep her safe.

“Hey, it’s okay now.” He brushed back her hair from her face with a gentle hand. “I’ve never seen you like this after a nightmare.”

She had never felt like this. “I hit you?” She shook her head to clear it of the last vestiges of sleep. “Lord, I’m sorry, Joe. It was so real…” She sat up in bed and ran her fingers through her tousled hair. Her scalp was as damp as if she’d really been running through those woods. “It still seems that way.” She drew a deep breath. “I think I need to get a drink of water and some fresh air. Go on back to sleep.” She swung her feet to the floor. “It’s almost dawn, and you have to be at headquarters in a few hours. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said curtly as he sat up in bed. “What does that matter? You’re upset. You’re still shaking. I’m not about to go peacefully back to sleep. What kind of nightmare was it?” He paused. “Bonnie?”

It was natural that he’d jump to that conclusion. Her daughter, Bonnie, had been kidnapped and murdered many years ago when she was only seven years old, and it had been the tragedy of Eve’s life. She and Joe had searched all those years they’d been together for both Bonnie’s killer and her body, and they had only recently been found. There had been many nightmares during those first years after Bonnie had been taken from Eve. Later, there had been other dreams of her very special child that had been sad but strangely comforting. And then, crazy as it seemed, she and Joe had become convinced that those were not dreams at all but visits from the spirit of her Bonnie. Dear God, how long it had taken her to accept that impossible concept. “Not Bonnie.” She slipped on her robe. “I’ve not dreamed of Bonnie since we found her body a few months ago.” She tried to smile. “I miss her, Joe.”

“She knows,” he said quietly. “She’ll come back to you, Eve.”

“Well, she’s taking her time about it. I think she’s trying to cut me loose. She’s always worried that I think too much about her and not enough about you and Jane. She says ghosts should never have top priority.” She shook her head. “It’s not true. I know how lucky I am to have you in my life. I just want it all.”

“Perfectly natural.” He tossed the sheet aside. “Go out on the porch. I’ll get your water.”

“Joe, I don’t need you to wait on me,” she said in exasperation. “You’re treating me like a kid. It was only a nightmare.”

“Shoo.” He gently swatted her behind as he passed her on the way to the bathroom. “Get moving. And don’t stop at your worktable on the way to the porch and do a few more touches to that reconstruction.”

He wasn’t going to pay any attention to her. No one could be more stubborn than Joe. Particularly when it came to guarding and caring for her.

She left the bedroom and headed down the hall toward the porch. She slowed as she glanced at the forensic reconstruction on the dais on her worktable. It was the skull of a little unknown girl Eve had named Janelle when she had begun to work on it two days ago. When she had first started her career as a forensic sculptor after Bonnie had been taken, she had begun giving the skulls names as a gesture of respect, and she had never stopped. Janelle’s skeleton had been found scattered in a quarry in Indiana, and the Indianapolis police had no idea of her identity and sent the skull to Eve for help. So far, the only thing that Eve could determine was that she was Asian and approximately nine years old. But it had only been two days, and the depth measurements had just begun. When they were completed, she would start the actual sculpting with the clay, and soon she would have a face whose features resembled those of the child before she had been murdered and thrown into that quarry.

“We’ll get there, Janelle,” she murmured. “You’re important. No one had the right to throw you away. I’ll bring you home.”

“Out.” Joe had caught up with her, and his hand was beneath her elbow. “Another minute, and you’ll be over there working.” He opened the front door. “You’ll probably do it anyway, but I’m going to make sure you’re okay first.”

“I’m okay. For heaven’s sake, it was only a nightmare. I’d probably be better off working and forgetting about it.” She took the glass of water he handed her and went out on the porch. The air was clear and cool, and the waning moon cast silver paths on the lake. She immediately felt the sense of serenity that she always did when she looked out at the familiar woods bordering the lake.

Run.

Through the woods.

The sound of the sea on the rocks.

No, that was the nightmare. Forget it. She was being foolish to let it bother her. She took a long drink of water. “You don’t have to stay out here with me. I’m okay now, Joe.”

“Liar.” His arms slid around her from behind and he pressed his cheek against her hair. “I can see the pulse pounding in your temple. You’re still jumpy. Just relax and stop trying to cheat me of being with you. Moments like this are good.”

Being with him was always good, she thought as she leaned back against him. She could feel the warmth of his lean, muscular body through his brown terry robe, and that warmth was flowing into her, bringing the contentment and love it always did. They had gone through tough times during the years they had been together. Joe was a brilliant detective with the Atlanta Police Department, and she had her own career as a forensic sculptor. Along with demanding careers, they were two people struggling against death and loss and trying to grow and make it through the storms to a brighter life together. But the love had always been there. Love and passion and humor, and all the things that made the battle and the life together worthwhile. “Okay, have it your own way.”

He chuckled. “And your way.”

She nodded. “My way.” She turned and went into his arms. She loved the feel of him. He was strong and warm and good. When they were like this, she felt as if he was flowing into her and filling every emptiness in her heart and soul. All was right with her world.

Alone.

Always alone.

So hard to hide when there’s no one to care if you live or die.

Why couldn’t she shake off the memory of that damn dream? she thought impatiently. That terrible loneliness had nothing to do with her or her life.

“You’re tensing again.” He pushed her back away from him, and his hands cupped her face. “I think it’s time you talked it out.” He was studying her expression. “Yes, definitely tense. This isn’t like you. You’re sure it wasn’t Bonnie?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Joe.”

“Or Jane? You’re not worried about Jane?”

She grimaced. “I’m always worried about Jane.” Jane MacGuire, an artist, was their adopted daughter and had been working in Scotland for months. It was sometimes difficult remembering that Jane was an adult and no longer the street kid they’d taken into their home all those years ago. “But that goes with the territory when you love someone. I know Jane can take care of herself.” She smiled. “Are you going to go down the list of family and friends? Stop analyzing, Joe. There wasn’t some mysterious trigger that caused that dream. It was just one of those nutty chase-and-pursuit nightmares.”

“Someone was chasing you?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “No.”

“Well, that’s clear.”

“I told you it was nutty. I’m not sure it was me that was running.” She shrugged. “But it must have been me because I was so afraid.”

“Why?”

“Joe, drop it.”

“No, I don’t like you to be afraid even of things that go bump in the night. It’s not like you. In fact, it’s damn weird. Talk it out. We’ll get rid of it.”

That was just like Joe, she thought. Face it, solve it, then send it on its way. It was how he’d become a great police detective: it was how he lived his life. Except he’d never sent her on her way, thank God. He’d kept her close to his heart, and she was grateful every day of her life that she spent with him.

“Okay, I’ll talk it out. But there’s nothing that really makes any sense. I was running through the woods, and I—”

He nodded at the trees along the lakeshore. “Those woods?”

She shook her head. “And no lake. There was an ocean…”

“What ocean?”

“I don’t know. Stop interrogating me. I was being chased, and I was trying to catch a bus. It was … bizarre.”

“What was bizarre?”

“Stuff I was thinking. Most of it didn’t make any sense. Except for the fear. I knew I had a reason to be afraid. That’s all I can remember. See, just a string of disconnected thoughts and emotions.” She gave him a quick, hard kiss. “There, I’ve talked it out, and I’m much better. Now let’s go to bed and see if you can go back to sleep.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not sleepy. Let’s sit over there and cuddle for a while.” He was leading her toward the porch swing. “Don’t worry, I’m through cross-examining you. I just thought it might help. We’ll talk about Bonnie and Jane and you and me.” He pulled her down beside him and drew her into the curve of his arm, with her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “Or maybe not talk at all. We’ve both been pretty busy lately, and I’ve missed this.”

So had Eve. She could hear the beating of his heart, and it seemed to be beating within her, too. She always felt closer to Joe in special moments like this.

She had always been alone.

She was more alone now than ever.

That poignant thought from the nightmare again. It just proved how disjointed and foolish it had been. Eve had never been less alone in her life. She had Joe and family and friends she loved around her. Life was never perfect, but loneliness was no longer one of her problems. She pushed the memory away, firmly blocking it.

She cuddled closer to Joe, her gaze on the moonlight on the lake.

No panic. No danger. No wrenching loneliness.

Not here with Joe.

*   *   *

“I’VE LOST HER,”
Drogan said, when Dr. Harry Pierce picked up the phone. “It’s your fault, Pierce. She wasn’t what I expected. I would have handled it entirely differently if I’d realized that she wasn’t what you told me.”

“Excuses, Drogan?” Pierce asked softly. “What a tough guy you are when you can’t even handle a woman who’s spent almost two decades in an institution. You were recommended very highly, but I suppose they were wrong.”

“I’ll handle her, but I’ll handle her my way. I shouldn’t have trusted a man who doesn’t have the guts to follow through on a job. You’ve probably been collecting from the Avery family for years, and you still have to come to me when they want to pull the plug on sweet Beth.”

“Why should I trust you? You failed me. I’d do better hiring someone else.”

“Go ahead. But I’ll still go after her and cut her throat. I’m not going to take you or anyone else telling me how that crazy drug addict got the best of me.” He paused. “And after that, I may go after you, Pierce. Did it occur to you that the Avery family might be tired of dealing with you? After the woman is dead, you’ll be useless to them. Yes, I think I may contact them and see if they need me to tie up a loose end.”

“Stay away from them,” Pierce said harshly. “None of this must touch them. Do you think they won’t take both of us down if they see a threat? Do you know the kind of power they have?” He drew a deep breath. “Maybe I was hasty. We can work together. I’ve already had that mess in her room cleared, and I’ve put out the word that she’s run away from the hospital. It shouldn’t take you long to find her. She won’t be able to think straight with all the drugs we pumped into her. You probably scared her, and she panicked. I don’t even know how she managed to get away from the hospital without someone’s seeing her.”

“Bullshit. She didn’t act scared.”

“As I said, panic. She’s like a child, and she’ll have no idea how to hide from you. But when you find her, no violence, no slitting her throat. It has to be a tragic accident brought on by her mental condition. One that could be expected from a woman who has delusions and could suffer disorientation when faced with having to cope with the outside world.”

“Tragic accidents can be violent … and painful. You’re a doctor. You can make it look like anything you want it to be.”

Pierce didn’t like the sound of that. He had heard some strange things about Drogan when he had hired him. “Look, I won’t tolerate any of that voodoo stuff I was told you like to pull on occasion. That’s not what I hired you to do. It has to look natural, dammit.”

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