CHAPTER
6
Hyatt Airport Hotel
Atlanta, Georgia
“NICE HOTEL,” MARGARET SAID as she took her room key from Jane. “This will be a great change. I’ve traveled a lot during my life, but I’m more used to Motel 6.” She entered the elevator and punched the button for the fourth floor. “I think we should go over the journal tonight. Suppose I meet you guys in twenty minutes. I’ve got to change out of this dress and high heels and get comfortable.” She smiled. “Your room, Jane?”
“Fine,” Jane said dryly. “I suppose I should be happy you asked since you seem to have taken charge.” She glanced at Trevor and Caleb. “Yes?”
Trevor nodded.
“By all means,” Caleb said. He got out of the elevator as the doors opened and turned left. “Margaret’s viewpoints are always interesting. Twenty minutes.”
Trevor got out of the elevator and took Jane’s bag. “I’ll see you to your room.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need—” He was already going down the corridor, and she had to rush to catch up.
He took her key and opened the door. “I know you don’t need me. But I need to do everything I can for you.” He smiled down at her as he handed her back her key. “I told you that I’d discovered my calling.” He put her bag inside the door. He brushed his lips across her forehead and started down the hall. “Twenty minutes.”
She stood looking after him for a moment, feeling a warm melting inside her. It wasn’t passion though that was present also. It was a feeling that was different from anything she had felt in the time she was with him. It was like a wonderful, golden net that was holding her safe and secure away from all loneliness. She wanted to call him back and have him smile like that at her again.
He stopped as if he had heard her call him and looked back at her. “I meant it,” he said softly. “It’s going to be different for us from now on. I’ve never been a believer in fate, but I am now. I feel as if it’s our time, and I have to reach out and take it before it goes away. Trust me.” He turned and went down the hall.
“Trust me.”
Only two words, but a concept so difficult for her to accept.
Because trust meant commitment, and that was even more difficult for her.
She shook her head to clear it and went into the room and closed the door. She couldn’t think right now about Trevor and the promise that he offered. She had only one commitment, and it was to Eve.
She took the journal out of her bag and put it on the coffee table in the sitting room. Just looking at it jarred her out of the beauty of the moments before. Ugliness and horror and malice beyond imagination.
And, like Margaret, she wanted to get as comfortable as possible to mentally gird her loins at what was soon to be faced. She took her suitcase to the adjoining bedroom to wash and change. Then she’d order coffee from room service.
Twenty minutes.
* * *
“COFFEE, GOOD.” MARGARET plopped down on the couch in Jane’s sitting room. “I grabbed one of those little sandwiches on the buffet at the service, but I need some caffeine.” She had changed to jeans, tunic, and her usual flip-flops and looked even younger than her nineteen years. “You need a cup, too, Jane. You look more tired than I do.”
“Yes, she does,” Caleb murmured. He poured coffee into a cup and handed it to Jane. “But she’ll be fine … for tonight.”
“I’ll be fine. Period,” Jane said firmly as she took a sip of coffee. “It’s been a rough day.”
“Yes, it has.” Trevor’s thoughtful gaze was on her face. “You’ve had a lot of rough days since that blowup in the ghost town. I’ve been worried.” His gaze shifted to Caleb. “So worried that I’m even glad of reassurance from you.”
“You should be glad,” Caleb said. “No one can know her physical condition better than I do.” Before Jane or Trevor could reply, he turned to Margaret. “But we’d be wise to get this little meeting over with so that she can get to bed.” He glanced down at the journal on the coffee table. “Jane said that when you read that piece of filth, you might have found something that will give us a lead.”
“Maybe. It’s a hodgepodge of grandiose bragging, porn, and poetic quotations.” Margaret picked up the journal and flicked it open to one of the earlier pages. “As you say, it’s all pretty much filth, particularly during these passages when he’s describing his victims.” She shivered. “Those poor little girls. It made me cry.”
“The lead,” Caleb prompted.
“Every now and then, during those obscene meanderings, he’d drop in a line that could be lost because of the sheer disgust you’re feeling.” Her gaze ran down the page. “Like this one. “Smooth skin, child skin, as satin soft as mother’s.” She flipped through more pages. “Blue eyes, staring at me, scared eyes, hating what was happening to her. Beautiful, beautiful eyes, almost as beautiful as mother’s eyes.” She looked up as she closed the journal. “There are several more comparisons like that one.” She added deliberately, “Kevin’s mother. All we’ve heard about is Doane, Kevin’s father. But when he was committing these atrocities, he was thinking about his mother. And from the sampling I’ve read, there’s nothing vengeful about those thoughts. If you weave them together, you get a picture of a son almost besotted by his mother.”
Jane frowned. “But from what I’ve heard from Joe, most serial killers are driven by hatred for their mothers if the relationship enters into motivation at all.”
“And it may not be a motivation,” Margaret said. “I don’t know. I just thought that since we have no clue about where to find Doane, we should try another avenue. She evidently had a powerful influence on Kevin.” She paused. “If she’s still alive. I don’t even know that.”
“Venable didn’t mention Kevin’s mother when he was talking about Doane?” Trevor asked.
“No,” Jane said. “But evidently Venable left out a lot that we should have known.” She reached for her phone. “And I can find out if she’s still alive. Catherine Ling.” She accessed her directory and dialed. Catherine picked up in three rings. “I need help. Venable’s never mentioned Kevin’s mother. Is she still alive? What do you know about her?”
“Nothing. Why do you want to know?”
“It’s a question of exploring every avenue at the moment. Can you find out about her from Venable?”
“Probably. He’s trying to keep me from rocking his boat, so he’s being very cooperative. If not, I’ll access CIA records. Give me twenty minutes.” She hung up.
“Twenty minutes,” Jane repeated as she hung up her phone. “Catherine is nothing if not efficient.”
Catherine called back in fifteen minutes and Jane put her on speaker. “Harriet Relling is still alive. She divorced her husband when Kevin was only fifteen. Then she changed her name and moved to Muncie, Indiana. She teaches English Literature at Ferry Road High School.”
“Any contact with Doane since the divorce?”
“No. The divorce papers said irreconcilable differences, but according to Venable’s reports, she’s very bitter. He did a thorough investigation on her five years ago when he put Doane under protective custody. As of that time, she’d never had another relationship after the divorce and was reputed to be something of a man-hater. Has a few friends but is pretty much a loner. She’s an advocate for better schools and gives talks around the state. She has a doctorate in English Literature and has been offered positions at several universities but has always refused. She organized the local autism walk three years ago. And, as I said, she changed her name. She’s now Harriet Weber and told everyone in Muncie that she was a widow.” Catherine paused. “Venable says that she was not put under the same surveillance as Doane because the chances seemed miniscule that she had anything to do with either of them since the divorce.”
“And Doane’s surveillance was not as tight as it should have been,” Jane said. “Or he’d have never been able to take Eve.”
“I’m not
arguing. Venable’s judgment is usually fairly good, but he’s failed miserably in this. Do you think it’s worthwhile going to question Doane’s wife?”
“From what you say, probably not,” Jane said slowly. “But I think I’m going to do it anyway. There was something in the journal that was very curious. It won’t hurt to go check her out.”
“Then I’ll forward you the file that Venable sent me on her,” Catherine said. “If you need anything else, call me.”
“I will. What are you working on?”
“Zander. Who else? He seems to be the center of the storm.”
“You’re going to Vancouver?”
She was silent. “No, I’m taking another route. I’m leaving right away. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.” She paused. “Good luck with Kevin’s mother. I can’t imagine what kind of woman could give birth to a monster. Yet there are quite a few monsters in the world, and they all had to come from someplace. Personally, I don’t believe in heredity. I believe everyone is born with a soul, and that dictates his character. It was one philosophy upon which Eve and I agreed.”
“What about Doane? It appears that he’s also a monster. You’re saying he didn’t pass those traits on to his son?”
“Maybe Doane’s soul was always tarnished, and it just became visible when his son revealed his own malignance.” Catherine added impatiently, “I don’t know. I don’t sit around thinking about theories about good and evil. Everyone has gut instincts, and that’s what I go by. My gut instinct tells me that Doane is a terrible man and growing worse with every passing day. I’ll let God decide how Doane got that way … after I kill him.” She hung up.
Caleb was chuckling. “I do like her.” He got to his feet. “I, too, believe in gut instinct. But I don’t entirely agree about heredity not having a part in what we are. I’m the living proof that certain traits are passed down through generations.”
“Physical traits,” Jane said. “Not necessarily souls. You told me that your ancestors back in medieval times were said by the villagers to be offspring of the devil. You don’t have to be what your ancestors were.” She added deliberately, “That’s all bullshit.”
Caleb glanced at Trevor. “What do you think, Trevor?” he asked mockingly. “Do I have a devil’s soul?”
Trevor didn’t speak for a moment. “I think that you’re strong enough to be whatever you want to be,” he said quietly. “And I believe that souls can change if the desire is there.”
Caleb’s eyes widened with surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that. You continue to astonish me. I give you the opportunity to condemn, and you return it with generosity. It’s really very clever since you come across in a very favorable light.”
“It wasn’t calculated, Caleb.”
He smiled wryly. “I know.” He turned to Jane. “I take it we’re heading for Muncie, Indiana? When?”
“In a few hours.” She checked her watch. “We don’t want to roust Kevin’s mother from her bed. We should arrive in Muncie about eight or nine if we can do it.”
“Then we should all try to get a few hours’ sleep.” Margaret jumped to her feet and headed for the door. “Call me when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Margaret,” Jane said. “I appreciate your—”
“Stop arguing, Jane. It takes too much energy.” She smiled. “You can’t just use me and throw me away.”
“I’m not doing—”
“I’m going with you, or I’m going alone. That’s your only decision.” She opened the door. She glanced at Trevor and Caleb. “And you get out of here, too, and let her rest. All this talk about souls and devils and monsters. Too deep and too gloomy.” She gestured in front of her at the open door. “Out.”
Trevor’s smile was faintly bemused as he allowed himself to be ushered into the hall. “Heaven forbid that we express any gloom and doom. However, I have to point out it was you, Margaret, who delved into the ugliest concept of all.”
“Necessary.” She pushed Caleb out the door, then stuck her head back in the room to repeat to Jane. “Call me.”
Jane turned and headed for the bedroom. She was suddenly dragging in every limb, totally exhausted. She could use that few hours’ sleep Margaret had suggested, no, demanded. The effects of the brief rest she’d had earlier in the afternoon had dissipated.
She didn’t bother to undress as she curled up on the bed and closed her eyes.
Sleep.
Relax.
She wasn’t at all sure that this journey would prove helpful, but if it didn’t, they could fly on to Vancouver immediately. They were at least no longer standing still. They were going to be on the move in a few hours.
She remembered Margaret’s words as she burrowed her head into the pillow.
Close out the gloom and doom. Cling to hope and send all the devils and monsters packing …
Penthouse
Drake Hotel
Denver, Colorado
8:40 A.M.
CATHERINE HESITATED FOR A moment before the door of the hotel room.
What the hell. Go for it.
She knocked firmly and waited for an answer.
An eye appeared in the security peephole. “Yes.”
“I need to talk to Zander.”
“Wrong room.”
“You must be Stang. Let me in.”
“Wrong room.”
“Look, you clearly don’t want to draw attention to Zander’s being here. Let me in, or I’ll start pounding on the door and screaming that now that I’ve had your baby, you won’t give me child support. You have no idea what kind of publicity and outrage that can spark. I’ll give you one minute.”
“I believe I’ll have to call security.”
“And that will cause even more of an uproar.”
“Let her in, Stang.” A deep voice and completely without expression. “I’ll attend to it.”
The door swung open. “I’m Howard Stang.” Stang was a tall, thirtyish man in a beige sweater. “And you are?”
“Catherine Ling.” The white-haired man who had spoken strolled forward from the balcony to confront her. He was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt whose sleeves were rolled up to reveal that there was a cast on his right forearm. He appeared ageless, but her immediate impression was of power, elegance, and leashed violence. “If I’m not mistaken?”
She nodded curtly. “But I’m curious to know how you guessed. I didn’t tell Venable I was coming to see you.”
“Really? He didn’t send you?”
“Hell, no. The two of you are dancing around each other like Olympic fencers. He’d be afraid of sending you underground where he couldn’t get his hands on you.”
Zander smiled faintly. “I don’t have to go underground to be sure that he can’t get his hands on me. But Venable is proving moderately helpful, and I don’t mind giving him limited access.” His smile faded. “But I’m not pleased he was less than discreet about taking you or anyone else into his confidence.”
“He didn’t think that I’d go knocking on your door.”
“Then he has bad judgment, and I’m even less pleased.”
She changed the subject. “How did you know who I was?”
“A matter of elimination.” He turned to Stang. “Why don’t we get the lady a cup of coffee?” He looked at Catherine. “Or do you prefer tea? Since you grew up in Hong Kong, I’m sure that’s your preference.”
“Either will do.” She shut the door behind her as Stang went to the phone. “Elimination?”
“You’re bold, smart, and you have a certain dash. You had to have a CIA connection, or you would never have been able to locate me. Eve mentioned her friend, Catherine Ling, who was with the CIA.” He waved his hand. “Elimination.”
“Joe mentioned that you’d talked to Eve in the mountains. I didn’t think I’d be the topic of conversation.”
“You weren’t, actually; she didn’t bring you up until right before she took off into
the woods. That’s why I felt I had to check you out while I had nothing better to do here in Denver.”
“And that’s how you knew I grew up in Hong Kong?”
“Yes. And that you’d have been the first to try to find Eve if you’d known what had happened to her. No one told you, did they? Venable kept you in the dark.”
Sharp. Very sharp.
She studied Zander. Ice-cold. Completely in control. Dangerous.
And challenging.
“And Venable heard about it from me,” she said grimly. “I just found out when I got back to Miami yesterday morning.”
“And you were angry, and you wanted to kill him.”
“Yes, but I didn’t. Because he thinks he was right, and he can help me find Eve.” She looked him in the eye. “And he told me where you were even though he didn’t know that I might blow your cozy little relationship.”
He chuckled. “You make us sound like lovers. I assure you that I’m not of the gay persuasion, and there’s nothing cozy about anything between Venable and me. We’re both very wary of what the other might do.” He gestured to a chair. “Won’t you sit down? I’m finding your visit very entertaining. I’ve been extremely bored lately.”
“I’ve not been bored,” she said bluntly as she sat down in the chair. “I’ve been scared and sick and angry. I wanted to kill Doane. I wanted to strangle Venable.” She looked up at him. “And I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do to you, but it wasn’t going to be pretty. I was told you had a chance to help Eve when she was free in those mountains, and you didn’t do it. Why?”
“Doane was my target. Eve would have been in the way.”
“They told me that Eve’s your daughter. That had no impact on your decision?”