Chasing the Night Page 5

  “I didn’t want you to do it,” he said bluntly. “I was only paying lip service to a bargain I made with Catherine. The current files on Rakovac are top secret, and we made sure they were kept away from Catherine. They contain surveillance as well as contacts that she had no knowledge about from her previous assignment in Moscow. She wanted those files.” He paused. “And she wanted your help. To get them, she risked her neck going after Ned Winters and his daughter, who were being held hostage in Colombia. You may have heard of them. They’ve been all over the TV.”

  “Who hasn’t? The father was murdered, you saved the girl.”

  “Catherine saved the girl.”

  “And you gave her the file?”

  “I kept my word. The director was more concerned with getting the Winters father and daughter free. The Rakovac connection has been disintegrating lately.” He paused. “He’s becoming unstable.”

  “And where does that leave that poor kid?”

  “I gave Catherine the file. I can’t do anything else at the moment. We haven’t entirely distanced ourselves from Rakovac yet. Although we know that he’s left his penthouse apartment in Moscow and gone undercover. It would be better if Catherine stayed out of it until we see fit to make a final break.”

  “Better for you. Not better for Luke or Catherine. I can’t blame her for being frantic to move now.”

  “Neither can I. But I can’t help her to do it. I have to act for the good of the big picture.”

  “Screw the big picture.”

  He was silent a moment. “You’re going to help her?”

  “I haven’t made up my mind. Though for heaven’s sake someone should be helping her.”

  “That was aimed at me,” he said. “If you decide to help her, limit it, Eve. Rakovac is an ugly customer, and he won’t take kindly to you getting in his way.”

  Getting in the way of the viciousness of a man who would kidnap a two-year-old and keep him prisoner for nine years? “She only wants me to do an age progression. She doesn’t trust your people.”

  “Imagine that,” he said wearily. “Not that I blame her. But she’s a desperate woman, and she’ll take whatever from you she has to take to find her son. Watch yourself, Eve.” He hung up.

  She slowly pressed the disconnect button and stood gazing out at the sunlight glittering on the lake.

  If she’d hoped to find a reason to throw Catherine out of the cottage, Venable had not given it to her. He’d only shown her a woman surrounded by an ideology where almost everything and everyone was expendable. She had told Eve the truth, and every action she had taken was perfectly reasonable. Eve would have done the same thing in Catherine’s place. Any mother would give up whatever she had to surrender to protect her child.

  But Eve had her own life, her own priorities. She didn’t even know if she could help Catherine. Should she become involved in trying to—

  “Of course, you can help her. Why are you fretting like this, Mama?”

  Bonnie.

  She glanced at the porch swing and saw her little girl in the Bugs Bunny T-shirt curled up with her legs beneath her. The sun was shining on her mop of red curls, and her smile was brilliant as that sun. Eve felt her heart warming as it always did when Bonnie came to her. She was always as real to Eve as the last day she had seen her.

  “You don’t know that I can help her, Miss Smarty. I’m not that good on age progression.”

  “No, but she has the right idea. You do make a connection.” She suddenly chuckled. “It was funny that she was so quick to say that she didn’t mean anything weird. People are so afraid that others are going to think they’re not totally grounded in reality.”

  “It’s always so strange to hear you talking like this. So grown-up…”

  “I told you once that I couldn’t stay seven forever. Nothing stands still, not even where I am.” She smiled. “But you probably forgot it and are in denial because that idea is a little weird, too.”

  “Denying what isn’t real is what keeps us sane, baby.”

  “You’re sane, and yet you’ve accepted that a ghost comes and visits you.”

  Her ghost, her beloved spirit, her Bonnie. “That’s different.”

  Bonnie nodded. “And it took you long enough to accept that I wasn’t a dream or a hallucination or whatever. It’s much more comfortable now, isn’t it?”

  “It will be comfortable when I can bring you home and find the bastard who killed you.”

  “Comfortable for you. I’m content right now.” She leaned back in the swing. “It’s over for me, Mama. Only the love is left.”

  “It’s not over for me.”

  “I know.” Bonnie’s gaze shifted to the door. “And it’s not over for her. She’s hurting.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why don’t you go in and help her? Cindy won’t care. She knows that time doesn’t matter.”

  “It may matter to her parents.”

  “Go find Luke, Mama.”

  “I can only try to tell her what he looks like. I may not even be right.”

  “And you might be.” Bonnie smiled. “I’ll bet on you. I’ll always bet on you. Why are you arguing with me? You know you’re going to do it.”

  “Maybe.” She smiled back at her. “And maybe I just want you to stick around a while. I hate it when you go away.”

  Her smile faded. “Me, too. But we have this. It’s a lot, Mama.”

  Eve felt her throat tighten. “Yes, it’s a lot.” In the year following Bonnie’s disappearance, her health and sanity had been spiraling downward, and she would not have survived another six months. But after Bonnie had begun to come to her, everything had changed. For years afterward, she wouldn’t admit, even to herself, that Bonnie was not a dream. But she was with her, and that was all that mattered. “But it’s not enough. I want more.”

  “Don’t be greedy. It’s not time. Mama,” she said gently. “You have Joe, you have Jane. You have a talent that can help people like Catherine Ling. Now go tell her that soon she’ll know what her Luke looks like right now.”

  “Is he still alive, Bonnie?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I think he may be. Sometimes I know things, sometimes I don’t.” She frowned. “But there’s darkness all around Catherine Ling. I hope it doesn’t come from him.”

  “I hope so, too.” She turned and headed for the door. “Since you’re pushing me away from you, I guess I’d better see what I can do about—”

  “I am pushing you away. I have to do it. But I’ll always come back for you, Mama…”

  “I know, baby.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I was just…”

  Bonnie was gone.

  Good-bye, my love.

  She paused a moment, letting regret and memory flow out of her, then opened the door.

  “Hello, you were gone longer than I thought.” Catherine Ling was sitting before Eve’s worktable with a laptop open before her. She glanced up, and her gaze warily raked Eve’s expression, trying to read it. “I was wondering if you were going to come back or send in the cops.”

  “I don’t think you were worried. You have too much confidence in yourself.”

  “I was worried.” She smiled faintly before adding, “That I’d have to start again and find another way to get you. Honesty is all very well, but it doesn’t work with everyone.”

  “No?” She crossed the room and stood looking down at the screen of Catherine’s computer. “What are you doing?”

  “Bones.” Her forefinger traced the lines of the skull on the screen before her. “I accessed a medical site on the Net. This is the skull of a female child. I thought I’d familiarize myself with the final product that you need to work with.” She pointed to a sliver of bone on the table before her. “That might be the bone beneath the orbital cavity.”

  Catherine was already driving forward, grasping at opportunities and concepts, Eve thought. She hadn’t waited for Eve’s decision. In the short time Eve had been gone, Catherine ha
d started to work. “And it might not.”

  Catherine nodded. “I figured I’d try it there and be open to change.” She lifted her gaze to meet Eve’s eyes. “I’m always open to change, Eve.”

  Eve stood looking at her for a moment. Then she smiled and moved her desktop computer to the other side of the worktable. “So am I. You’d better be extremely careful about every movement you make with those bones. One sign of clumsiness, and I’ll consider the arrangement blown.”

  Catherine tensed. “You’ll do it?”

  “I’ll do it. I’ve warned you that I can’t promise success, but I’ll make a try. There are a good many things I’ll need from you.”

  “Anything. How do we start?”

  “By calling Joe and telling him that he’s wasting his time.” She pulled out her phone. “And that you’re responsible for dragging him out of bed and sending him on a wild-goose chase.”

  She nodded. “I always accept responsibility. I’ll talk to him. It’s what I expected.” She made a face. “From what I’ve heard, he’s a difficult man. I don’t look forward to it.”

  “Very wise.” She was getting Joe’s voice mail. “But you have a reprieve. I’ll call him back later.” She hung up and focused on the program she was pulling up on the screen. She reached into the drawer beneath the table and pulled out her scanner. “Now let’s get busy. Give me that photo of Luke.”

  Moscow

  “She’s left Colombia,” Russo said as he hung up the phone and turned to Rakovac. “According to our informant, Prado, in the CIA, she boarded a flight out of Bogota yesterday afternoon.”

  “Destination?” Rakovac asked.

  “Houston, Texas. But she missed her connecting flight to Los Angeles.” He smiled. “But a woman of her description boarded a flight to Atlanta an hour later, a last-minute booking. She’s traveling under the name of Patricia Loring.”

  “Atlanta,” Rakovac repeated. “Now what could the bitch be doing in Atlanta…”

  “Venable could have sent her. There have been some communications between them, but Prado couldn’t determine what they were about.”

  “Then we need a new man in Venable’s camp. He knows that Catherine Ling is one of his top priorities.” He leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. “She could be making a move. I’ve been sensing that something was building the last few times I talked to her.”

  “You don’t seem upset.”

  “No, I look forward to it.” He suddenly smiled. “It’s been going on too long. I’m growing bored. She needs to bleed a little.”

  “You’re going to go after her?”

  “Or let her come after me.” He gazed at the framed photo of Catherine Ling he had on his desk. In all the years since he had taken her son, he had never put that photo away. It had served to remind him that he was the one in control, and she was only a victim to be punished. The bitch had almost taken him down. If he hadn’t scrambled desperately to right his empire, he’d have been back in the sewer where he’d been born. “Beautiful, isn’t she? If you can call a demon beautiful. I think it’s time I brought her closer.”

  “Not a good idea,” Russo said. “She’s CIA. It’s not safe. As long as you kept her at a distance, there was—”

  “I wouldn’t be where I am if I worried about safety,” Rakovac interrupted. “You have to take chances to become what you’re destined to be. You’ve always cringed at the bottom of the ladder, afraid to climb. That’s why you answer to me.”

  Russo flushed. “And if you didn’t have men like me propping up your ladder, you’d be crashing down on your ass. I’ve never seen why you snatched the kid. He’s always been a threat to all of us. She’s always been a threat.”

  Russo had surprised him. He didn’t often lose his temper with him. “No, Catherine Ling ceased to be a threat when I took her son.”

  “It’s gone on too long. You should have killed her instead of stretching out this idiocy. There’s always the chance that the CIA will take action.”

  “Not as long as I give them what they want.” He grimaced. “Or that they think that I’m doing it. It’s merely a question of striking a balance.”

  “And how long can you do it? Venable isn’t a fool. You haven’t been spending enough time and attention on the business they’re paying you for. He’ll know that you’re up to something.”

  It wasn’t the first time Russo had spoken out against Rakovac’s persecution of Catherine. Time to shut him down. “I’ll do what I have to do. Stay out of my business.” He gave him a cold glance. “You don’t understand. I don’t allow anyone to humiliate me the way Catherine Ling did. She came close to destroying me, and everyone knew it. I swore that I’d make her pay. And I’ve done it.”

  “Yes,” Russo said. “But maybe it’s time to end it.” He paused. “Is the boy still alive?”

  Rakovac smiled but didn’t answer.

  Russo’s eyes widened. “Good God. You’ve killed him?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps. Again, that’s my affair. She thinks he’s still alive.” He smiled maliciously. “Sometimes. It’s the eternal seesaw. There’s nothing more painful. I’ve made sure she’s regretted that last mission in Moscow.”

  “But not enough?”

  He shook his head. “Not while I can squeeze one more drop of pain from her. And after she’s too numb to give me that pleasure, I’ll take her blood.” He gazed back at the photo. “But I have to find her first. Tell Prado to probe a little and find out if Venable made any phone calls to Atlanta recently.”

  Chapter

  4

  “I’ve scanned in Luke’s photo.” Eve looked up from her computer. “It’s good that it’s a frontal shot. It will help with the progression. But I need more than this.”

  “I know. Family members. I don’t have much that you can use.” She slipped from her stool. “I’ll be right back. I left an envelope in my rental car.” She ran out of the house and down the steps. She was back in a few minutes and handed Eve a large manila envelope. “The photos are all of my husband Terry’s family. I don’t know anything about my mother’s background. I tried to trace my father, but I haven’t been able to find out anything about him. Not even his name.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “I tried,” she said fiercely. “I can’t help it that I was dropped into this world and everyone just walked away. It’s not my fault, and it’s not Luke’s. Work with it.”

  “I will. It just makes it more difficult. What do you know about age progression?”

  “Only that it’s easier if you have a battery of photos from both sides of the family. I tried to give it to you. It just wasn’t happening.”

  “The reason that we like to compare the child’s photo with any available photos of family members is that there may be a resemblance to the features of a grandparent or uncle or another relative that’s stronger than to the parents. And if we had a photograph of any of them at the same age as Luke, eleven, it could help.”

  “But maybe not. My husband always said Luke looked like me.”

  Eve gazed at the photo of Luke on the screen. Beautiful, faintly tilted dark eyes with long eyelashes. The lips appeared close to the same shape. She couldn’t tell about the cheekbones. Luke had too much baby fat for her to be able to determine the shape.

  “Well?”

  “There is a strong resemblance, but we can’t be sure that it will still be noticeable at his present age. The shape of the face changes.”

  “We can’t be sure of anything. But it’s something to work with.”

  Eve nodded. “But this is Luke at two. When a child is born, the bones of the skull and neck are not nearly complete. The growth process doesn’t complete until a person is twenty-five or older.”

  “So?”

  “The proportional changes in the amount of the lower face are fundamental. Young children’s faces grow downward and forward. The forehead changes from a bulbous look to an upright and flattened appearance. The lower ha
lf of the face drifts downward and either forward or outward. The upper and lower jaws are constantly increasing in size and changing form. They become more prominent and—”

  “You’re telling me all the difficulties. Can you override them?”

  “I can only try.” She opened the envelope and spread the photos on the table. “Which one was your husband?”

  “The man in the brown bomber jacket. He doesn’t look anything like Luke.”

  “I can see that.” The man in the photo was tall, broad-shouldered, and had thinning gray hair. “He was quite a bit older than you.”

  “Sixty-two, but age doesn’t matter.”

  Sixty-two to Catherine’s seventeen.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Catherine repeated. “Age is only a number. Venable sent me to Terry as a mentor when I first joined the CIA, and he taught me, guided me, he even saved my life once. He was very good to me. That’s the only thing that was important.”

  “Your relationship is your own business. I was just surprised.”

  “He was kind, we were partners, he gave me a child. Infinite riches. How could I ask for more?”

  Didn’t every woman deserve a young and heady passion at least once in her life? “He has a nice face.” She went to another picture. “Who is the child?”

  “Terry, at age six. The other picture is his mother, Gail. She doesn’t look like Luke either. So you may be stuck with me. I was four when that picture of me was taken in Shanghai. My mother had to furnish it for the entry papers.”

  Eve picked up the photo of Catherine. It was amazingly similar to the photo on the computer screen before her. The child Catherine was thinner, her manner solemn and a little defiant, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

  “Will it help?” Catherine asked.

  “Yes, I think it will. I don’t know how much.” She bent forward and began to run feature programs on the photo of Luke before her. “Let me go to work.”