The Killing Game ed-2 Read online

  “I thought that would be the next move."

  "I’m keeping an eye on you. You won’t be able to blink without me knowing it. If this reconstruction does any damage to Eve, I’ll decimate you."

  "Fine. Are you finished now?"

  He started the Jeep. "I’m just beginning."

  Joe watched him drive away. Logan was a tough bastard, but he genuinely cared about Eve. He had many qualities Joe admired — intelligence, fairness, loyalty. If things were different, if he weren’t an obstacle, Joe might have liked him.

  Too bad.

  He was an obstacle and Joe had learned when he was in the SEALs that there were three things you could do about an obstacle. You could jump over it. You could go around it.

  Or you could pound it into the ground until it didn’t exist.

  The plane had scarcely reached optimum altitude when Eve asked Joe about Talladega. "I want to know everything." She grimaced. "And don’t tell me I’m overwrought again, or I’ll sock you."

  "No, I believe I’ll avoid that word in the future," Joe murmured. "You said she was the only child?"

  "Unless they’ve found more bodies while I’ve been gone. But I doubt it. They scoured the area pretty thoroughly."

  She shuddered. Nine lives gone. Nine human beings buried in the earth and abandoned. "Have The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02

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  you been able to identify any of them?"

  "Not yet. We don’t even know if they’re local to Rabun County. We’re combing missing persons records statewide. Then we’ll see if any of the DNA profiles on our possibles match our skeletons. It’s doubtful that they were all buried at the same time. It looks like someone was using the bluff as his own private cemetery."

  "Fraser," she whispered.

  "Eight adults, one child," he reminded her. "Fraser confessed to killing twelve children. He never mentioned any adults, and he had nothing to lose after he was convicted."

  "That doesn’t mean anything. Who the hell knows what he did? He would never tell us anything that might help the parents find those children. He wanted us to suffer. He wanted the whole world to suffer."

  "It’s a longshot. You’ve got to be prepared to find out this is another killer.”

  “I’m prepared. No clues?"

  "The rib cages of three victims showed signs the deaths were probably caused by knife wounds.

  We’re not sure about the others. But the killer might have left a signature. There was wax residue in the right hands of all the skeletons."

  "Wax? What kind of wax?"

  He shrugged. "They’re analyzing it."

  "They should be done by now. Why are they moving so slowly?”

  “Politics. The mayor doesn’t want another serial killer to make Atlanta look bad and Chief Maxwell doesn’t want to take the flak. The city’s already had Wayne Williams and Fraser. The chief would just as soon keep this case in Rabun County. Unfortunately, Rabun doesn’t have our facilities and she’s having to offer limited assistance. The FBI Behavioral Science Unit is also lending a hand. They’re already at Talladega to examine the site and the skeletons."

  "Then how did you get permission for me to do the reconstruction?”

  “Well, actually, I had to twist a few arms. The chiefs afraid there’ll be a media circus if they find out you’ve been brought in."

  “God, I hope not." She had fled thousands of miles to escape the media, and now she was confronted with it again.

  "We’ll keep them away. I’ve set up a lab for you at the lake house.”

  “They’ll still find us. There are always leaks."

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  He smiled. "I have a few ideas on how to circumvent them. Trust me." She couldn’t do anything else. She leaned back in the seat and tried to relax. It was going to be a long flight, and she had to rest to be ready for the work that lay ahead.

  A child’s skull to bring to life.

  Bonnie?

  "Come on." Joe grabbed her arm after they’d cleared Customs. "We can’t go out in the waiting area. There’s a mob of reporters out there." He smiled at the red-coated customer service representative beside him. "Right, Don?"

  "Enough to cause you a big problem. This way." He led them toward an emergency exit. "A skycap will bring the bags."

  "Where are we going?" Eve asked as they went down a stairway. "Employees entrance leading outside the North Terminal," Joe answered. "I thought there would be a leak and called Don to help us." Don ushered them through a long hall and out into the street in front of the terminal.

  "Thanks, Don.”

  “No problem." Don waved over the skycap who had just come out the door. "I owed you a favor, Joe."

  Eve watched Don disappear back into the terminal. "Okay, now that we’re away from— What are you doing?"

  Joe was in the middle of the street. "Hailing your own personal cab." A gray Oldsmobile pulled to a stop beside them. A woman was at the wheel. "Mom?"

  Sandra Duncan smiled. "I feel like an undercover agent or something. Were there reporters at Customs?"

  "So I was told," Joe said as he and the skycap loaded the luggage into the trunk. "I thought there would be when I saw the newspaper this morning." Joe tipped the skycap. Eve jumped in the front seat and Joe got in the back. A few seconds later her mother was driving down the street toward the airport exit.

  "Joe called you?" Eve asked.

  "Somebody had to do it." Sandra grinned at her. "Since my own daughter didn’t see fit to let me know."

  "I would have called you once we were settled."

  "But now I have you to myself until we get to Joe’s place." She gave her an appraising glance.

  "You look good. You may have put on a pound or two."

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  "Maybe."

  "And you have freckles.”

  “That’s what Joe said."

  "You should have worn your sunscreen.”

  “Joe said that too."

  "Joe has good sense."

  "You look wonderful." It was true. Her mother looked young, chic, and glowing with health and vitality. "How’s Ron?"

  "As good as can be expected." Her eyes were twinkling. "He says I exhaust him. I do lead him a pretty strenuous dance. But what the hell. Life’s too short not to enjoy it."

  "How’s your job?"

  “Fine."

  "This is a weekday. Am I making you miss work?"

  "Yep, but they were glad I didn’t come in. After the story in the paper this morning, they knew reporters would be all over the court-house if I showed up."

  "I’m sorry, Mom."

  "It doesn’t matter. I’m the best court reporter they have, and they know it. All this uproar will die down again just like it did the last time." She glanced over her shoulder at Joe. "I’m heading up north toward your cottage. Do you want to stop anywhere?"

  Joe shook his head. "No, but I want you to drive around the city a little to make sure we’re not followed."

  "Right." Sandra glanced at Eve, her expression sobering. "Joe says the chances aren’t good, Eve.

  It may not be Bonnie."

  "A lousy chance is better than none at all." She smiled. "And stop fretting, Mom. It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, I can handle it."

  "You know I don’t approve of this. You’ve got to let her go before you tear yourself apart. I loved Bonnie too, but I had to come to terms with reality."

  What Sandra had done was come to terms with her view of reality, and it was obviously bringing her happiness. Well, more power to her. Eve ignored the tiny flicker of envy and said, The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02

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  "I’m not avoiding reality. I’m just trying to find my daughter and put her to rest."

  Sandra sighed. "Okay, do what you have to do. Call me if I can help.”

  “You know I will." Sandra was f
rowning, so Eve reached over and affectionately squeezed her arm. "It’s not going to be that bad. The reconstruction will take only a few days, and then I’ll know."

  Sandra grimaced. "A few days can sometimes seem like a century."

  Eve Duncan.

  Dom studied her photograph in the newspaper. Curly red-brown hair framed a face that was more fascinating than pretty. Hazel eyes gazed at the world from behind round gold-rimmed glasses. He remembered seeing this picture in the paper last year and thinking how she had changed from that desperate woman at the Fraser trial. The older Eve Duncan looked stronger, more confident. A woman whose determination could move mountains and topple governments. And now she was turning that determination in his direction. Of course, she didn’t know it was his direction. She wanted only to find her child — which made her just as vulnerable as she had been all those years before.

  He had actually considered her as a kill back then but had dismissed the idea almost immediately because of the notoriety of the Fraser trial. She had been too visible and there were enough satisfying, less risky kills.

  But the satisfaction was waning.

  He could correct that problem now, he thought with relief. Eve Duncan was strong enough to challenge and purge him. He would tread carefully with her, inject each moment with every possible drop of emotion, build slowly so the final explosion would be strong enough to clear away all the deadness and debris inside him.

  He had a strong belief in fate and was beginning to think Eve Duncan had been put at this place and time just for him. It was lucky he had ignored temptation when she first passed through his life. Then she would have been only an ordinary kill, no more important than any other.

  Now she could be his salvation.

  THREE

  "Nice." Sandra’s gaze traveled over the cottage and then down to the boat dock. "I like this, Joe."

  "Then why didn’t you come here all the times I invited you?" Joe started unloading luggage from the trunk.

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  "You know I’m city born and bred." Sandra drew a deep breath. "But I could tolerate this. Eve should have told me about that beautiful view of the lake."

  "I did," Eve said. "You wouldn’t have any of it."

  "Well, it is pretty isolated. Aren’t there any other houses on the lake?”

  “No, Joe bought the lake and surrounding acreage and won’t sell any of it." Sandra grinned at Joe. "How unfriendly of you."

  "I like privacy when I’m up here." He closed the trunk. "I get enough of people when I’m in the city. I kept the title in the name of my trust and no one knows I own this place. Not even the department." He smiled at Eve. "Except a few chosen friends."

  "Well, at least, the cottage looks nice and friendly," Sandra said. Eve had always liked the A-frame. It was small and cozy and had plenty of windows that welcomed the sun and the outdoors. "Come on in and see the inside."

  "I have to get back to the city. Ron worries when I don’t show up for dinner.”

  “You could call him."

  Sandra shook her head. "Hey, I’m not stupid. I don’t want him getting used to eating alone. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll talk then." She gave Eve a long hug. "Welcome home, baby. I’ve missed you." She stepped back and looked at Joe. "Do you need a lift back to town?"

  "I have a Jeep up here. I’ll use that. Thanks, Sandra."

  "No problem." Sandra got back in the driver’s seat and started the car. "See you soon."

  Eve watched the car disappear down the gravel road, then helped Joe carry the luggage up the porch steps.

  "You know, I don’t get it." He shook his head. "You two haven’t seen each other for over a year, and she goes off to dinner with her boyfriend and it’s okay with you?"

  "You don’t have to get it. We understand each other." No one who had not been there during her hellish childhood would be able to empathize. The scars were still there and they would never go away, but she and Sandra had built on them and forged a bond they could live with.

  "Mom has never had a stable relationship before. She has a right to protect it. She’s really hooked, isn’t she?"

  "Yep." He unlocked the door. "But she doesn’t appear to mind.”

  “No." Eve paused. "It will seem strange not to have Diane here.”

  “Why? You came here before I was married. Diane never really liked this place.

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  She preferred civilization."

  She glanced around and remembered how Joe’s retriever had always bounded up to greet her.

  "Where’s George? Is he in the city apartment?"

  "No, Diane has him. I’m never home. He’s better off with her."

  “That must have been hard."

  "Yeah, it was. I love that dog." He opened the door and gestured to a corner of the room.

  "Good God." Video cameras, a computer, a worktable and pedestal. "Where did you get all this?"

  "I raided your lab in town and brought out all the equipment the insurance company replaced after it was trashed last year. I think I got everything.”

  “I think you did too." She went inside. "You seem to have met all my needs.”

  “My goal in life," he said lightly. "I stocked the house with food too. It’s chilly in here." He crossed to the fireplace and knelt before the logs. "I’ll light the fire before I leave."

  "You’re not staying?"

  He shook his head. "Reporters are looking for you. It will be hard to trace the cabin but not impossible. I have to find a way to cast out a few red herrings." He paused. "And I’m going to tell Sandra not to come up here until you’ve finished the job. She might be followed. If you want to catch up on everything, do it on the telephone. Okay?"

  "Okay." He had mentioned everything except what was most important. "And when do I get the skull?"

  "Tomorrow. It’s still at Georgia State with Dr. Comden, the anthropologist who did the report.

  I’ll get a release from the department, pick it up tomorrow morning, and bring the skull with me in the afternoon. If there’s any change of plan, I’ll call you." He moved toward the door. "In the meantime, try to get some sleep. You didn’t doze more than an hour on the flight over."

  "Okay." She added deliberately, "But first I’m going to call Logan and tell him we’ve arrived safely."

  "He won’t expect it."

  "But he’ll appreciate it. I’m not going to shut him out of my life just because we’re not together anymore. He deserves more than that."

  He shrugged. "I’m not going to argue with you. Just don’t let him upset you. You need to rest."

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  "I’ll rest."

  "I mean it. Neither one of us knows how you’re going to react when you see that kid’s skull.

  Exhaustion won’t help. I don’t want you going to pieces."

  "I won’t go to pieces."

  "Get some sleep," he repeated. The door shut behind him.

  She went to the window and watched him stride around the cabin toward the garage, where he kept the Jeep. A few minutes later it appeared in the driveway and then disappeared from view down the road.

  She was alone.

  The sunlight suddenly seemed weaker, colder, as it touched the lake. On the far bank, pine trees cast shadows that blended and formed a dark blanket. She shivered, then moved over to the blazing fire and held out her hands. The warmth was welcome, chasing away the chill that had attacked her.

  Imagination. Everything was as it was before Mom and Joe had left. She just wasn’t accustomed to being alone any longer. On the island she had seldom been by herself. Even when she was working, Logan was never more than five minutes away. Face it. The chill hadn’t come from loneliness but from dread and eagerness. She was no more sure than Joe of how she would react to having that skull in her hands. If she would be abl
e to close out the horror and be totally professional.

  Of course she could. She owed it to Bonnie.

  Or whoever the little girl might be. She mustn’t think of her as Bonnie, or her hands and mind might play tricks on her. She had to view the skull with total detachment.

  But when had she ever been able to do that? she wondered ruefully. Every reconstruction concerning a lost child was heart-wrenching, leaving her emotionally drained by the time she finished. But she had to control all emotion this time. It was absolutely necessary not to let herself fall into that dark pit.

  Keep busy. Don’t think about what awaited her. She reached for the telephone and dialed Logan’s digital number. No answer. The call went to his voice mail.

  "Hi, Logan, just calling to tell you that I’m at Joe’s cottage. I’m fine and I’m going to get the skull tomorrow. I hope everything’s well with you. Take care." She hung up.

  Not being able to touch base with Logan made her feel even more isolated. That safe, sane life with Logan seemed so far away already and was growing more distant with every second.

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  For God’s sake, snap out of it. She’d go for a walk along the lake and tire herself so that she’d sleep.

  All the clothes in her suitcases were tropical, so she went into Joe’s bedroom and found jeans and flannel shirt. She put on her own tennis shoes and grabbed Joe’s windbreaker. A moment later she was out the door and going down the steps.

  She was alone.

  Dom watched Eve Duncan stride briskly down the path to the lake. Her hands were in the jacket pockets and there was a faint frown on her face.

  She was taller than he remembered but appeared very fragile in the oversize jacket. She wasn’t fragile. He could see that in the way she moved, the set of her chin.

  Strength was often more of the spirit than the body. He’d had kills that should have succumbed immediately but had fought ferociously. She would be such a one.

  All that subterfuge at the airport had been interesting, but he had been a stalker too long to be taken in by it. He had learned a long time ago that you had to keep one step ahead if you were going to reap your reward.

  And that reward was almost in his grasp. Now that he knew Eve Duncan’s whereabouts, he could put the game in play.