Kelly nodded without speaking.
“Call me if you need someone to talk to.”
“I will.” Kelly leaned back in the seat and gave her a pale smile. “And I’ll do what you said. I’ll let them pity me about losing Daddy, but never about Munoz.”
“Good.” She stepped back and slammed the door.
“Poor kid.” Venable watched the limousine with the social worker and Kelly Winters drive slowly from the private airport. “She looks shell-shocked.”
“Considering what she’s gone through, I think she looks damn good,” Catherine said. “She’s got guts. She’ll be okay if they let her heal and come to terms with what happened.” Kelly had turned and was looking back at her. Catherine nodded and waved her hand. The girl didn’t smile, didn’t wave. “Look, she doesn’t get along with her mother. Make sure those social worker Goody Two-shoeses don’t toss her back to her without supervision.”
“I can see why her mother might have difficulty. Lisa Winters is a Denver socialite who likes everything smooth and commonplace. Kelly is too brilliant to be commonplace and too inquisitive not to be disturbing.”
“You seem very familiar with Kelly.”
“You might say I had an occasion to study her once. I found her exceedingly…promising.”
“Promising? Interesting word. I believe you once found me promising. But she’s just a kid, Venable. And, I don’t give a damn if her mother doesn’t like having a smart daughter. She should step up to the plate. Kelly needs help.”
“You obviously gave it to her.” Venable smiled faintly. “And I’ll follow through.”
“You’d better. Or I’ll come looking for you.” She turned to face him. “Payoff time. You owe me, Venable.”
“You’ll have the Rakovac file on your e-mail by day after tomorrow.”
“Good.” She paused. “You’re not mentioning Eve Duncan. I regard that as a serious omission.”
“You rescued the girl, not Winters himself. I figure that’s only fifty percent of the deal. I only owe you for Kelly Winters.” He tilted his head, considering. “And you killed Munoz. I’m not sure of the ramifications of that. We used him occasionally, and we’ll have to find another information source.”
“You’re quibbling. You know anyone who went into that camp would have had to deal with Munoz. You couldn’t have used him again with all this media attention focused on him. You said you were having trouble getting me Eve Duncan.”
“Maybe.” He turned and headed for his car parked by the hangar. “At any rate, I’m washing my hands of the problem. Deal with Eve Duncan yourself. I’ve thought it over and decided that I don’t have to protect Eve from you. You’re different as night and day, but she’s strong enough to handle you.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I only hope that you don’t get her killed.”
Atlanta, Georgia
Lake Cottage
Two days later
“Joe?” Eve opened her eyes to see Joe coming out of the bathroom, shrugging into his jacket. It was still dark, she realized drowsily. Where was he…
“Shh.” Joe’s lips brushed Eve’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. I got a call from the precinct. Something nasty on the south side.”
“What kind of—”
“I don’t know. No details. Go back to sleep,” he repeated. “You need it. It’s only five. You didn’t stop working on Cindy until two this morning.” He gave her another kiss and headed for the door. “I’ll call you.”
“Do that.” It must have been something urgent for them to call Joe from his bed. Urgent sometimes meant dangerous. “As soon as you know. Bye…”
A few minutes later, she heard his car start outside and tried to settle down and go back to sleep. She didn’t think it was going to happen. She usually worked late, but her eyes were strained and stinging from trying to put together the shattered puzzle that was Cindy. She should rest her eyes even if she couldn’t doze off again.
Fifteen minutes later she gave it up and sat up in bed. The longer she stayed in bed, the more tense she became. She’d get up, grab a cup of coffee, and go back to work on Cindy. She slipped on her robe and left the bedroom.
Joe had evidently grabbed a cup of coffee to go because there was a light burning in the kitchen. She chose a coffee pod and punched the button on the Keurig.
“That’s interesting. I’ve never seen a coffeemaker like that. But then I haven’t been in a civilized part of the world for a long time. Does it make good coffee?”
A woman’s voice.
Eve whirled toward the shadows of her lab across the room. “What the hell—”
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.” The woman who spoke was sitting on Eve’s stool in front of the reconstruction of Cindy. “I just have to talk to you.”
“The hell you do.” Her gaze raked the woman from head to toe. Thin, dressed in dark jeans and sweater. No apparent weapons. That was good. Joe had taught Eve how to defend herself in any hand-to-hand battle. “Get out and call me on the phone. How did you get in here anyway? Joe always sets the alarm.”
“He did this time, too. It’s a good alarm. It took me a little while to get past it after he left.” She was gazing wonderingly down at the shards of bone on the tarp. “Are you really going to be able to put this face back together?”
“Yes. Get out.”
“I’m not handling this right.” She looked away from the bones to Eve’s face. “It’s just that when I saw those bones, it blew me away. My name is Catherine Ling. Venable might have mentioned me. I work with him.”
“Venable?” Eve relaxed a little. The invasion was still totally unacceptable, but if she was associated with Venable, there was no physical threat. “No, he didn’t mention you.”
Catherine Ling grimaced. “He didn’t even get that far? The age progression. He did call you about it?”
“Yes, I told him to get someone else. I’m too busy.”
“I want you. I need you.”
“Too bad.” She picked up her cup of coffee. “You and your CIA can go take a flying leap. I don’t work on Venable’s orders.” She went to the front door and opened it. “Now get out.”
Catherine didn’t move. “I don’t want you to work for Venable. I don’t want you to work for the CIA. This has nothing to do with them. It’s my job. I knew you had a relationship with Venable, and I thought if I could get him to offer it to you, that it would be easier to get you to do it.”
“Wrong.” She jerked her head at the open door. “Don’t come back. Next time, I’ll call the police.”
Catherine slowly rose to her feet. “Will you listen to me?”
“I might have listened to you if you hadn’t invaded my home like a cat burglar. Now you don’t have a chance in hell.”
“I was in a hurry. I didn’t want to have to argue with you. I thought if I hit the ground running, the shock would get us down to basics early.”
“Don’t come back.”
Catherine moved toward the door. “I will come back. It’s something I have to do. I’ll come back time and time again until you listen to me.” She passed Eve and went out onto the porch. “And until you do, I’ll sit out here and wait.”
“Not in my house, not on my porch, not on my property.”
“Here. You’ll have to stumble over me.” Catherine sank gracefully down on the floor and crossed her legs tailor fashion. “Until you listen.”
Eve gazed at her in frustration. Early dawn light was now filtering onto the porch and dimly illuminating the woman. Catherine Ling looked to be in her late twenties. She was tall, thin, with small breasts and long legs. Straight, shoulder-length dark hair framed a face that was an interesting mixture of Western and Asian characteristics. High cheekbones and faintly tilted dark eyes contrasted with full lips and a square chin. Her brows were as dark as her hair and slightly winged over those large, intense eyes.
Everything about Catherine spoke of intensity, Eve thought. She was surrounded by it, burning wi
th it. “I’m not about to stumble over you. I’ll either throw you out myself or call the police.”
“Then I’d have to fight. I’m very good at fighting. Someone would get hurt. Wouldn’t it be better just to listen to me?”
Eve slammed the door shut and locked it.
She hadn’t handled the situation well, Catherine thought.
She had been caught off guard. When Eve had come into the room, everything else had flown from her mind. She had waited so long…
Then Eve had been there before her, angry, wary. Her shoulder-length red-brown hair slightly mussed from sleep, her hazel eyes glaring at her in the lamplight. Catherine had seen photos of Eve in magazines, but she was more than she’d expected. Her thin face wasn’t pretty, but it was fascinating and full of character. Everything about her spoke of alertness, vitality, and intelligence.
And there had been no fear. Eve should have been at least a little afraid.
Was it because she dealt with the results of death every day?
Oh, for heaven’s sake, this was no time to try to analyze Eve Duncan’s reactions.
She would just sit here and wait. No matter how long it took.
She would wait until Eve came back to her.
She’d just ignore the woman, Eve thought, after she’d locked the door. Maybe she’d go away.
No, she wouldn’t. Catherine Ling would stay out there until hell froze over. Eve had seen that passionate intensity before.
In her own mirror.
She took a swallow of her coffee and turned and walked toward her worktable, where Catherine had been sitting when Eve had walked into the room. If the woman had disturbed any of her carefully placed bone fragments, she’d murder her.
Somehow, she didn’t believe she would be that slipshod. Catherine Ling didn’t impress her as someone who would be careless about anything.
No, everything was exactly as Eve had left it.
She reached out and gently touched a splinter of bone. “Sorry, Cindy, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I have to take care of this idiotic problem now.”
And how to do that?
Call the police as she’d threatened?
No, she believed Catherine Ling when she’d told her that she’d fight. This was Eve’s home, and she didn’t want violence to enter it. The outside world was too violent, and this was her haven.
But she would get rid of the woman.
She took out her cell phone, checked the number, then dialed.
“Venable, what the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m out of it. I take it that Catherine has paid you a visit?”
“Right now she’s sitting on my porch looking like a patient Buddha. She won’t go away.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“No, I threw her out. For heaven’s sake, she invaded my house like a thief in the night.”
“She can be impatient. It might be better if you let her talk to you. She won’t go away. You can starve her, you can beat her, and she’ll still be there.”
Her hand clenched on the phone. “Then you tell her to get out. You’re CIA, she’s CIA, there has to be something you can do.”
“She’s obsessed. You can’t deal with obsession in any normal manner.”
“Are you saying she’s nuts?”
“I’m saying that obsession can sometimes make people unbalanced.”
“Unbalanced,” she repeated. “That’s a polite way of saying nuts. And you expect me to deal with her? Oh no, she’s one of your people. You take care of it. My schedule is jam-packed. I have no time for this.”
“I told you, I’m out of it. It’s between the two of you now.”
“You said you didn’t want to turn me over to the wolf. You were talking about her, weren’t you?”
“Yes, I should have said she-wolf, shouldn’t I? I was hoping to persuade you to do the job and not have any contact with her. It would have been better for you.”
“I’m not going to have any contact with that woman. As soon as I can, I’m going to send her on her way.”
“I hope you do turn her down. I made a bargain with her, but I’m backpedaling as fast as I can. If she gets what she wants, she’s going to cause me a lot of headaches.”
“I don’t care about your bargains. If you’re not going to help, tell me how to make her leave.”
“Listen to her. Say no. Make her believe it. She’s no real threat. Not to you.”
“Easy words. She’s not easy. I can tell.”
“Oh, you recognized a kindred spirit? I admit I noticed a few similarities myself.”
She ignored those words. “Tell me how to get through to her. I have to know about her if I’m going to find a way to handle her. Tell me about Catherine Ling.”
“How much?”
“Everything.”
“I don’t know everything. I had to depend on Catherine to tell me about her early years. There weren’t any records. She’s illegitimate. Her father was an American soldier based in Saigon. Her mother was a half-Korean, half-Russian prostitute and took Catherine to Hong Kong when she was four. She died two years later, and Catherine was left alone to try to survive on the streets. She survived very well. She was smart, and her instincts were excellent. Some of the things she learned during those years were amazing, and completely illegal and immoral.”
“Considering how she broke into my house that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Anyway, she managed to sort it all out and avoided the worst pitfalls of prostitution and drugs. Probably because she came to realize that the most valuable commodity in Hong Kong was information. She taught herself to be fluent in eight languages and made herself an expert on selling and buying. From the criminal underbelly to high-end political secrets, she became the person to go to. That’s where she first came onto our radar.”
“I can see how she would come to your attention,” Eve said dryly.
“Oh, she did. She was only seventeen and a complete tigress. She did a few contract jobs for us, and I was very impressed. I recruited her. I had her trained by one of our best agents. In the last twelve years I’ve sent her all over the world, and she’s been a remarkable asset. I couldn’t ask for a more competent operative.”
“Until she became ‘unbalanced’?”
“Everyone has a few problems to overcome. Once she works through this patch, she’ll be as valuable to me as ever.”
“You’re incredible.”
“No, I just do my job in the best way I can.” He paused. “Tell her no. Don’t get involved, Eve.” He hung up the phone.
She didn’t understand that last command. She had no intention of getting involved. Considering the circumstances, she didn’t see how Venable could think she was in any danger of giving in to anything that Catherine Ling asked of her.
She jammed her phone back in her pocket. What to do? Venable had been of no real help. He had given her a little insight into the woman’s character, but revealed no vulnerabilities. She had obviously developed scar tissue over all the pain of her childhood if she’d become the power house Venable described.
Listen to her.
She hesitated, thinking.
Oh, what the hell. It was either violence or persuasion.
It might end up either, or both.
She strode toward the door and threw it open.
Catherine Ling didn’t move, but Eve could sense a subtle change, an increased alertness. She was ready to spring or defend herself from attack.
Good Lord, the woman was beautiful. Eve had been in such emotional turmoil, she had only been vaguely aware of Catherine’s appearance.
The sun was shining, surrounding her with light. Her straight dark hair, enormous eyes, and smooth golden complexion seemed to glow.
But it was her vibrant intensity that held and fascinated. Eve had never seen anyone more alive.
“I just talked to Venable,” Eve said curtly. “He’s being a complete ass. He won’t come and get you, and he sa
ys you won’t do anything he asks.”
She nodded. “He’s right. He doesn’t really want you to help me. He’s glad that he found an excuse to put a roadblock in my way.”
“I can’t help you. Not as well as some of your CIA computer gurus.”
She shook her head. “It has to be you.”
“Dammit, why?”
She was silent. “Because of your Bonnie. Do you think I haven’t studied and researched you? I know all about you. I know that you have a lover, Joe Quinn. I know you have an adopted daughter, Jane MacGuire, who is an artist and is in London right now.” She paused. “And, most important of all, I know you lost your little girl, Bonnie, when she was seven to a serial killer, and it’s given you a passion and dedication that none of those tech guys will ever have. I need that passion. I have to have that dedication.”
“Then you’ll have to do without. I have another job I have to do.”
“Put it off.”
“No, that little girl’s parents have waited too long already. And why should I? To find out how age has changed some low-life criminal on whom you have some kind of twisted vendetta?”
“No.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a photo carefully protected in clear plastic. “So I can find him.” Her hand was trembling as she held out the photo to Eve. “Help me. I’ll give you anything, do anything for you. I have to find him.”
Eve slowly took the photo.
It was a picture of a little boy of not more than two years of age wearing a red sweater. Dark hair, enormous dark eyes that were alight with joy and mischief. He was smiling, and Eve had never seen a sweeter expression. It was a smile to melt the heart. “Who is he?”
“Luke. My son.”
Chapter
3
Eve’s gaze flew back to Catherine’s face. “What?”
“Luke. That picture was taken on his second birthday. He was taken from me a week later.”
“Taken? By whom?”
“Sergei Rakovac. Major criminal who was involved with the Russian mafia and manipulating various politicians in Moscow. My husband, Terry, and I were sent in to break up his organization. He was interfering with the current American administration’s attempt at peacekeeping over the Republic of Georgia’s conflict with Russia.”