Page 5

Shadow Play Page 5

by Iris Johansen


“Okay. I was just curious.”

And Jenny’s interruption had the gentleness and familiarity of an old friend whispering in her ear. “Children are always curious.”

“I don’t know if I’m a child anymore. Am I?”

If Jenny had lived, she would be seventeen now. She had missed so much … “I don’t know. My Bonnie says that she couldn’t stand still when she crossed over, that she kept maturing. I imagine it might be the same for you. But that doesn’t mean you might not be a little stunted as far as experiences are concerned. I guess that depends on what you’ve been doing for the last eight years.”

“Waiting. I’ve been waiting…”

Waiting for what? To be brought home to the people she loved? To get justice for the terrible crime perpetrated against her? The words struck Eve as terribly sad, and again she had the urge to reach out and hold her.

Back off. Jenny was coming too close to her. She forced herself to go back to working on the depth markers on the reconstruction. “Then wait a little longer, Jenny. We’re getting there. Just a little longer…”

* * *

The lights were burning bright in the cottage even though it was after midnight.

Walsh didn’t dare get closer to the cottage than these trees across the lake, and it was filling him with frustration. But Joe Quinn had been out in the woods twice tonight, and he couldn’t risk it. He’d read Quinn’s dossier, and an ex-SEAL wasn’t going to be taken by surprise like that deputy. He’d have to wait for an opportunity.

As he’d have to wait for the opportunity to go after Eve Duncan. But time was running out. She might be getting close.

Walsh could imagine that Duncan bitch sitting working on that damn skull and making that kid’s face come alive again. Damn Nalchek. Any other small-town sheriff would have just let that skeleton be reburied somewhere and eventually filed the paperwork and let the little girl be forgotten.

But Eve Duncan wasn’t going to let her be forgotten.

So Eve Duncan would have to be removed.

* * *

“Okay, here we go.” Eve could feel the tension grip her muscles as she stared at the reconstruction. “I’ve done all the prep work I can. It’s time we started working together on this.”

No answer.

“Listen, Jenny, this isn’t the time for you to opt out. Help me.”

No answer.

Ignore the rejection and hope she would come in later.

Smooth the clay.

Such a small skull.

So delicate …

She had to be sensitive, gentle.

No mistakes.

She let the tips of her fingers move of their own volition.

Help me, Jenny.

The clay was cool … no, it was warmer now. As warm as her own fingers moving, molding.

Nose?

It had to be generic.

Instinct. Just use instinct.

Mouth.

Generic again. She’d measured the width but had to guess at the shape. A child’s mouth, sensitive, because Jenny was so sensitive.

Eyes. So very difficult. No measurements, very few scientific indicators. Okay, study the shape and the angle of the orbits. That angle and the bony ridge above it would help her decide the shape. Keep them in mind but don’t do the eyes yet. It always made her excited to see the eyes staring at her, and she might hurry the rest of the process.

Do the cheeks.

Fill in.

Smooth.

The other cheek.

Smooth.

She was going too fast. Slow down. Measurements were still important. Check them.

Nose width. Okay.

Lip height. Okay. No, bring the top lip down. It’s usually thinner than the bottom.

There’s a major muscle around the mouth, build it up.

But Jenny was a child and would have a child’s fullness.

No, thin face.

Where had that come from? It didn’t matter if it was instinct or Jenny.

Just go with it.

Mold.

Smooth.

Fill in.

Her hands were flying over that small face now.

Deepen.

Mold.

Smooth.

Fill in.

The chin.

More pointed.

Smooth.

Brows.

Winged.

Odd. Why?

Just do it.

Slow down. Her hands were too feverish.

No, they aren’t.

Go ahead.

Smooth.

Mold.

Fill in.

But there was only a little more to fill in.

Smooth it.

Mold?

No, just the smoothing.

Fast.

Sure.

Let it come.

Let her come.

Blinding speed. Her heart was beating hard.

The reconstruction was only a blur.

Finished.

She leaned back, and her hands dropped away from the skull.

Only it wasn’t a skull any longer.

It was Jenny.

No, not yet.

She reached into the drawer and drew out her eye case.

Eyes.

Jenny had to have eyes.

Eve looked down at the glass eyeballs. She usually chose brown, they were the most common.

She started to reach for them.

“Green.”

Eve stopped. “Now you appear. I could have used a little more help, Jenny.”

“I tried to help. It was hard to remember … It’s not important here where I am now.”

“Well, it’s still important to me.” She took the green eyes from the case. “And it’s important to Sheriff Nalchek.” She paused. “And it may be important to the person who put you in that grave.”

“But you did pretty well without me, didn’t you? You must be very smart, Eve.”

“Flattery? You must be fairly smart yourself, Jenny.” She was inserting the right eye carefully in the right cavity. “Green eyes are very noticeable. That might help. Who did you take after? Your mother or your father?”

“I don’t know. They’re not … I don’t remember.”

Distress. Veer away from the pain she sensed. “It doesn’t matter.” She inserted the other eyeball and smoothed the clay around the orbital cavity. “What’s important is that the eyes might trigger a memory that—”

She broke off and inhaled sharply.

Finished. The reconstruction was completely finished.

And the full impact of the work that she’d just done hit home to her.

“Jenny?”

She reached out and gently touched the cheek of the sculpture. She almost expected it to be warm with life. The little girl’s expression seemed to radiate vitality and enthusiasm. Even those wide-set green eyes seemed to glow with a kind of wonder in that small, triangular face. Pointed chin, high cheekbones, and winged brows gave the child an elfin quality. But it was the vitality, the wonder, that held Eve spellbound.

And some monster had killed this?

She cleared her throat to ease its tightness. “Perhaps you helped me more than either one of us thought, Jenny. I believe you must have been a very special little girl. I’d bet you enjoyed every minute of your life. I’m sorry you don’t remember more of it.”

“I don’t have to remember. The joy has been with me while I was waiting. The most important thing I got to take with me.”

“What thing?”

“Why, the music, Eve. It’s still part of me. It’s still here.”

“Music? What do you mean, Jenny?”

No answer.

“Okay, I guess I shouldn’t expect more than one breakthrough at a time.” She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. “And tonight I got a big one. I have a face. Tomorrow, I’ll take photos and run it through my computer program for any matches. The program isn’t as extensive as FBI
and police databases, but I might get lucky.”

“You’re happy. I like to see you like this.”

“I did my job, and I came up with one great product. It gives me a sense of satisfaction to know what you look like. It’s like solving a mystery. Now I know to whom I’m talking.”

“It’s not only because of what happened to me?”

“No, a whisper from the great beyond is better than nothing, but I’m a visual person.” She looked back at the reconstruction. “You know, sometimes I don’t even do brows but you must have been insistent.” She got to her feet and arched her back. “And now I’m going to shower and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” She had a sudden thought. “Or not. Maybe you’ll disappear now that I’ve finished your reconstruction.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Oh.” Why did she feel this relief? “You and the music?”

“You’re smiling. I’m sorry I can’t explain about the music. It’s just that—”

“You don’t have to explain anything unless you want to. We’re just ships that pass in the night. I don’t have to know. You’ve been hurt, and you’re in a place I can’t possibly understand.”

“Ships that pass … I don’t think so, Eve.”

“Time will tell.”

“You’re going to bed with your Joe again?”

“Absolutely.”

“You were very happy at what he was doing to your body that first night I came. Are you going to do that again?”

Her mouth fell open. “What?” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. Jenny, I had no idea you were— Do you know what a peeping Tom is?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what you did when you watched me and Joe—” But did she watch? Was she just attuned to Eve and aware of her feelings? “Whatever you did, that was a private moment and not to be shared without invitation. Do you understand?”

“But I liked it. It was … happy and excited.”

“Yes, it was.” And a happiness Jenny would never know. So many experiences she would never know. “But it’s still private, and you shouldn’t intrude. Okay?”

Silence. “I guess.”

Reluctant at best. Eve wasn’t sure that she either understood or would comply. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Still that thread of wistfulness. “But I didn’t mean to hurt anyone…”

“I know you didn’t. And you didn’t hurt me, Jenny. It’s just the way people feel about—” Oh, give it up. She didn’t even know how much a nine-year-old Jenny knew about sex. She was glad that she didn’t seem to feel anything horrific connected to it. It was always a fear in a child’s murder. “Good night, Jenny.”

“Good night, Eve.”

* * *

“Is she finished?” Joe asked drowsily as Eve climbed into bed forty-five minutes later.

“Yes.” She cuddled close. “It turned out exceptionally well. She has a very memorable face. She kind of reminded me of a young Audrey Hepburn. Unusual…”

“Everything about her has been unusual.” He brushed his lips across her temple. “But I’m glad that she’ll be out of your head soon.”

But would she? Eve wondered. Jenny was full of mysteries and contradictions, and Eve was irresistibly drawn to try to solve them. “I suppose I’ll be glad, too.”

“Suppose?”

“Jenny is appealing. She … touches me. Do you know, I’ve been wondering if there’s some reason why I can communicate with her. That maybe I was meant to help her.”

“You are helping her. You did her reconstruction.”

“Maybe I was meant to go a step further.”

Joe was silent, his arms tightening around her. “I’m not going to argue with you. You’ll do what you think is right.” He added harshly, “But I don’t like it, dammit.”

“I’m not sure I do, either. And I’ll probably send her off to Sheriff Nalchek tomorrow. He can do more than I can to find out who she is. It’s just…” She wearily shook her head. “She’s become too close to me. I feel as if I’m responsible for her.”

“Eve.”

“I know. I know.” She suddenly chuckled. “I wish Bonnie would drop in and have a chat with me. I could use a little advice from the other side. Jenny isn’t nearly as integrated there as Bonnie, and she seems to be missing key memories. Maybe Bonnie could help her out.”

“Send your Jenny to Nalchek,” he said firmly.

She nodded. “You’re right.” She turned in his arms and clasped him tightly. “I can’t be responsible for everyone. I have to pick and choose.” She kissed him. “And I choose you.”

“And I humbly thank you.” He raised himself on one elbow and smiled down at her. “Does that choice offer fringe benefits?”

“You bet it does.” She kissed him, long and deep. She felt the familiar stirring, the hot need that never changed and yet was forever new. She pulled her sleep shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor beside the bed. “All you have to do is put in a request.” She climbed on top of him. “Or not.”

He chuckled. “Consider it entered.” His smile faded, and he was suddenly intense. “And then let’s do a little more entering.” His hands were on her breasts. “And I’ll prove you didn’t make a mistake in making that choice.”

And would Jenny be aware that they were making love, Eve wondered suddenly. It was possible. She was curious. She had liked the warmth.

“Eve? Something wrong?”

And what difference did it make, Eve thought recklessly. There was no shame in the love she and Joe shared. It was beautiful, and the warmth that Jenny had noticed lit up both their lives.

“No, nothing is wrong. Everything is right.” She leaned down and whispered, “I love you, Joe Quinn.”

* * *

“I see what you mean.” Joe was looking at the reconstruction on the worktable when she came out of the bathroom the next morning. “She’s extraordinary. You’re right, unusual. You usually get the resemblance right but she looks … alive. And there’s an amazing joi de vivre.”

“Yes.” She went to the cabinet and poured a cup of coffee. “My first thought was how could anyone kill anyone who had that much joy in living. She’s almost … alight.”

“And that made you think that maybe you should be doing something more.”

She nodded. “But Nalchek can do it. I’ve done my part.”

“She goes off today?”

“This afternoon. I’ll do the photographs and the computer input this morning.” She followed him out to the porch. “Then I’ll call Nalchek and FedEx.”

“Good.” He gave her a quick kiss, then glanced over his shoulder as he started down the porch steps. “And keep the door locked until you get that FedEx box on its way. Okay?”

“Sure. But you said there was no sign of an intruder yesterday.”

“That doesn’t mean that there might not have been one. It just means that he could have been very good.” He got into the car. “Better to be safe. I’ll call you later and see how it’s going.”

“Joe, it’s going to be fine.” She blew him a kiss. “I’m almost at the end of this job. I’ll see you tonight.”

She watched him drive away, then stood a moment looking out at the lake. She wasn’t as confident as she’d let Joe believe. Joe believed it his duty to be suspicious in order to protect her. She only had instinct.

And that instinct was making her uneasy.

She would definitely keep the door locked today.

And she didn’t want to keep standing here and staring out at the lake and the woods.

She went back into the cottage, closed the door, and locked it.

“He’s worried about you,” Jenny said. “And you’re worried, too.”

Eve’s gaze flew to the reconstruction across the room.

“No, not there. I keep telling you that I don’t really have a connection with that skull. I’m here, Eve.”

Eve slowly turned and gazed at the couch.

/>   Jenny.

Sitting on the couch, wearing a long white eyelet dress with an empire waist and long, bell sleeves. She had black, patent-leather shoes on her small feet and her long, shiny, black hair was tied back away from her face with a white satin ribbon. She looked younger than nine except for that remarkable face and a brilliant smile that Eve would not even have attempted to capture in the reconstruction.

“Well, this is a surprise.” Eve was a little breathless. “No, more of a shock. I wasn’t expecting this, Jenny.”

“But you like it?” Jenny asked eagerly. “You were so happy when you could see my face at last. I want you to be happy, Eve. I thought if I concentrated, I could do this and it worked.”

“It certainly did.” Eve smiled. “And, yes, I’m very happy to see the entire product. You’re all dressed up as if you’re going to a birthday party. Very elegant. What was the occasion?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a party. I think I wore this dress a lot.”

“It’s very pretty. You’re very pretty.” Her smile faded as a thought occurred to her. Had Jenny been killed in this white eyelet dress? Bonnie always appeared to Eve in her jeans and Bugs Bunny T-shirt she’d worn when she was taken. Forget it. Accept that Jenny had appeared in an outfit that she’d worn while alive to please Eve and let any sadness go. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.” She lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip of coffee. “I just wish that you could remember a few other things besides that dress.”

“I’ll try.” Jenny was smiling eagerly. “Things are coming back to me all the time. But this did please you, and it’s easier than the rest. There are all kinds of confusing stuff that I don’t think I’m supposed to know yet.” She tilted her head. “Maybe we’re supposed to find out together.”

“I don’t think so, Jenny. Sheriff Nalchek has better ways than I do to find out what happened to you. I’m sending your reconstruction back to him today.”

Her smile faded. “I know that’s what you said. I thought maybe you’d change your mind.” She lifted her chin. “But that’s all right. I know you’re busy, and you have Joe. I’m sure everything is going to work out fine. I just don’t know how right now.”

And Eve was having that now-familiar urge to comfort and hold her. “Neither do I. But I’ll be in contact with the sheriff, and he’ll give me progress reports on what’s going on with you. He’s a good man and he cares what happens to you.”