Shadow Play Page 8

  “Not generally to be used by ghosts searching for their murderers. You’re sure that your Jenny got it right?”

  “I’m not sure about anything. But it’s our best bet.” She thought about it. “Yes, I’d trust her.”

  “General location?”

  “Unknown. But I’d think he was going back to California.”

  “Because he was going to try to find the evidence he’d left at Jenny’s crime scene?”

  “And because he had another victim in mind.” Her lips tightened. “He’d marked her. Whatever that means. He wouldn’t just have gone on to another kill.”

  “Then I’d better get down to the precinct and start running this name through the databases with emphasis on California.” He got to his feet. “And the chances of Walsh being his real name are slim to none. But if it’s the one he’s been using most recently, we might get lucky. What are you going to do?” His brows lifted. “Try for a séance?”

  “Very amusing. I’ve told Jenny what I need from her. I’ll just have to see if she can do what I asked.” She took out her phone. “And I have a few calls to make myself.”

  “Nalchek?”

  “That’s one of them.” She started to dial. “And the other is to a friend who came through for me a few months ago. I’ve just got to hope she’s still in California…”

  * * *

  “I’m not sure where you can find Margaret Douglas,” Kendra Michaels said. “I think she’s still in California, but you never know with Margaret. She’s something of a gypsy.”

  “I thought she went to California because you were there,” Eve said. “But she’s not answering her phone. I was hoping that you might still be in touch.”

  “I tried, but Margaret marches to her own drummer.”

  “Like several other people in our circle,” Eve said dryly. Including Kendra Michaels, who was sometimes a music therapist and sometimes worked with the police and FBI. She was truly an original since she had been blind until her twenties and had learned to use all her senses with incredible accuracy. “No idea where Margaret could be?”

  “She worked as a volunteer at the San Diego Zoo,” Kendra said. “But it wasn’t challenging enough, so she moved on. Maybe she went back to Summer Island to work with those dogs in that experimental program.”

  “I’ll check with them and see if they’ve heard from her. But it would be difficult for Margaret to go back there when she has no papers.”

  “That’s never stopped her before. Margaret is an expert at jumping over obstacles like a lack of ID.”

  So Eve had been told. But she had never questioned Margaret about it, and neither had Joe. They had been too grateful for Margaret’s help in finding Eve when she had been kidnapped months ago. Jane, who had brought Margaret into their lives when she had taken her dog, Toby, to Summer Island to be treated for ingesting a rare poison, had told them that Margaret was incredibly gifted with animals. It hadn’t mattered to Jane that Margaret apparently skipped around the world under the radar and no one knew anything about her. All she cared about was that Margaret had saved her dog because she had the ability to bond with animals.

  And Margaret might have saved Eve’s life because of that same gift.

  “Am I allowed to ask why you want to get in touch with Margaret?” Kendra asked. “And why I can’t help instead?”

  She had known this was coming. “You have many talents but not the one I might need. Margaret lived for years in the woods near her home as a child after she ran away from her father. That makes her uniquely qualified since I need someone who is woods savvy.”

  “That’s not me. But I’m told I make it up in other ways that are—”

  “No,” she said firmly. “This is my problem. I’m grateful, and if I need you, I might call on you. But not unless I run into a blank wall.”

  “You just did,” Kendra said.

  “Not yet.”

  Kendra was silent. “I’ll make a few calls. Margaret made a lot of friends while she was here. She might have mentioned something to someone. How much time do I have?”

  “We need her as soon as possible. Joe and I will be arriving in Sonderville tonight.”

  “Sonderville. That’s wine country.”

  “It’s the woods north of town, not the vineyards that I’m concerned about.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Kendra.”

  “Don’t thank me until I find her. Why do you have to have someone who is woods savvy?”

  “I need to find something that was lost or hidden in the woods eight years ago.”

  “Eight years.” Kendra gave a low whistle. “Definitely not my area of expertise. I don’t even know if it’s Margaret’s.”

  “I’m willing to take a chance.” Eve paused. “It may lead me to a killer, and there’s a child’s life on the line. I don’t know where else to start.”

  “Start with me. Okay, okay, I know you’re not going to budge. Let me get off the phone and see if I can find Margaret.” She hung up.

  Typical Kendra. Eve found herself smiling as she hung up. Sharp, honest, and beneath that brusqueness was a treasure trove of warmth and loyalty. If Margaret could be found, Kendra would locate her.

  “You couldn’t reach her?” Joe asked as he came in from the porch. “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Kendra.” She shrugged. “She’s being … Kendra. And I’ll bet she’ll find Margaret for me.”

  “No bet,” Joe said grimly. “But whether you manage to get hold of Margaret or not, you’re not going to go into those woods without me. I’m pretty woods savvy myself.”

  “Yes, you are. But eight years is a long time and you—” She stopped. How could she tell him that it wasn’t his competence but her own fear that she’d be responsible for something happening to him? Joe was like a force of nature when he was on the hunt. “I know this is a long shot, Joe. But Walsh was keeping an eye on Nalchek while he was searching those woods, a deputy died while Walsh was lurking there like some kind of ghoul. Whatever he’s looking for is making him desperate. I’m just reaching out and trying to find something, anything, that I can grab hold of before Walsh gets his hands on another victim. Those woods where Jenny was buried may be a way to do it.” She shook her head. “Or point me in the right direction.”

  “You’ve been thinking about this. Anything else?”

  “If we find out who Jenny was, we may be able to make a connection that will help us find Walsh. I’ve been going over the things Jenny has said to me since I started the reconstruction. I’ll check with Nalchek and see if I get anywhere with them.” She got to her feet. “And then I’ll pack a bag for both of us and make reservations for San Francisco while you’re checking out Walsh in those databases. I’ll call you to tell you when to meet me at the airport.”

  Joe’s brows rose. “We’re in that much of a hurry? You’re not giving me much time to process all those databases. I may have to go international, too. Let’s leave tomorrow morning.”

  She shook her head. “Suppose I leave today and check into a hotel and do the preliminary work with Nalchek. That would save some time. You can fly in tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “I don’t like your going alone.”

  “Joe, it’s one night, and I promise I won’t do anything that doesn’t concern Nalchek.”

  He was silent. “Okay, but I still don’t see why you’re in such a hurry.”

  “I don’t know, either.” She reached for her phone again. “I’m just not sure how much time we have.”

  Or how much time that little girl in Carmel had.

  CHAPTER

  5

  COCONINO NATIONAL FOREST

  ARIZONA

  Get rid of her. He had to get rid of her.

  Walsh could feel the hatred sear through him as he stared at the FedEx box on the seat beside him. He’d built a huge campfire in the woods and was tempted just to throw the damn box into the flames. But he couldn’t do that, he had to b
e sure. He had to know that Eve Duncan wasn’t just playing Nalchek for a fool.

  He had to look at that bitch, Jenny’s skull.

  Get it over with.

  He reluctantly took the box and slowly opened it.

  He couldn’t see anything, dammit. The skull was secured to the box. He started to undo the fastenings.

  His fingers were tingling, burning.

  Imagination.

  There, he was finished. He’d take the skull out to the fire and get ready to toss it.

  He grabbed the box, got out of the car, and strode over to the fire.

  The flames were leaping high, the fiery shadows reflecting off the leaves of the surrounding trees.

  One more minute and you burn, bitch.

  He grabbed the skull and pulled it out of the box and held it high so that he could look at it.

  Only it wasn’t a skull.

  It was her.

  He felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach.

  Same pointed chin, same winged eyebrows.

  And those green eyes, blazing at him, as bold as they had been the night he had put her in that grave. She had been afraid, he’d known she was afraid, and yet she wouldn’t admit it to him. That night was suddenly right here before him.

  * * *

  “You’re going to die, little girl.” He cradled his bleeding hand where the little viper had bitten him. “Die, then I’m going to throw you in the ground where no one will ever find you.”

  “They’ll find me.” Her eyes were glittering in her pale face. “Because you’re stupid and cruel, and they’ll want to take you and throw you in a jail where they put people like you.”

  “Stupid?” He lifted his hand and struck her in the face. Her head jerked back from the blow, but when she lifted it, there was still no fear in her eyes. It filled him with rage. “You bit my hand. Let’s see how you like to have your hands hurt.”

  Fear. For the first time he saw fear in her. “Not my hands. I can’t let you—” She lifted her chin defiantly, and the fear was gone. “It won’t matter. They’ll fix them.”

  “They won’t bother. You’ll be dead.” He took her hand and bent back the first finger. “Tell me what I want to know. Tell me where they are. If you do, I’ll stop the pain.” He pressed the finger back until he knew it was agony. “Tell me.”

  She whimpered.

  Why didn’t she scream?

  She had never screamed.

  Not even when he’d lost his temper and taken the crowbar and struck her on the temple.

  * * *

  He couldn’t see that wound on her temple on this damn reconstruction now. Duncan had carefully erased it. He held the skull higher.

  It was as if the blow had never happened.

  And those green eyes were blazing with defiance at him as they had when he’d broken her fingers.

  No, they weren’t. Glass eyes. They were only glass eyes. But how had Duncan known that little girl had green eyes? How had she known about that pointed chin, those eyebrows?

  Guess work. It was only a lucky guess.

  And in another moment, all her work would be devoured in these flames.

  “No, they won’t. I won’t let you.”

  He froze.

  Her voice.

  His eyes widened in shock, his gaze locked with the green eyes of the skull’s reconstruction.

  Ignore it.

  He was hearing things.

  He had been concentrating so hard on that long-ago night that he had only thought he’d heard Jenny speaking to him.

  Hallucination.

  As soon as he got rid of the skull, he’d be fine.

  “No. I told you that you were stupid. You’ll never get rid of me.”

  The voice wasn’t coming from that skull. It was coming from his left, over in the trees.

  Don’t look.

  “Are you afraid of me? I’m not afraid of you. You can’t do anything to me that you haven’t already done. But I’m only learning everything I can do to you. Look at me, Walsh.”

  His head slowly turned.

  And then he saw her.

  White dress, black, patent-leather shoes, and those eyes as green as the glass ones in this damn skull.

  Those eyes that had wept but never held fear.

  He could feel his heart pounding and the cold sweat break out. “I’m looking at you, bitch. You’re not real. You’re dead. You’re only a damn hallucination. Once I settle this, I’ll forget you just like I did before.”

  “And go on and kill that little girl in Carmel? Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”

  “I’ll do what I please. And you don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “Then how did I know about the little girl? What’s her name, Walsh?”

  “See, I told you that you didn’t know anything. If you were Jenny, you’d know. Go away.”

  “So you can toss my skull into that fire? I can’t let you do that.” She took at few steps closer. “I haven’t decided what I’m meant to do with you, but I won’t let you destroy Eve’s work.”

  “Let me? What can you do about it?”

  “Try it.” She took a step closer, her eyes glaring into his own. “You can’t let it go. You remember when I bit your hand? I didn’t. Not until it all came rushing back to you, then I remembered. There are all kinds of things I don’t remember yet. But I think it will all come back to me. Except the pain. I may not ever remember that entirely. But I can make you remember your pain. Your hand will start to hurt just as it did that night, only the pain won’t go away until you take the skull back to the car.”

  “I will drop it.” He started to release the skull into the flames.

  Pain!

  He screamed.

  He backed away from the fire.

  The pain lessened but didn’t go away.

  “No, Walsh, I won’t let you destroy me all over again.”

  Green eyes staring at him, golden skin gleaming in the firelight, lips tight.

  He was cursing. “It’s not you. You’re not real. I’ll get over this; and then I’ll burn this skull. Then I’ll find wherever they’ve put your skeleton and burn every bit of you until you’re ashes.” His hands were shaking as he shoved the skull back in the FedEx box. “And then I’ll throw them into the ocean for the fish to eat.”

  “You won’t get over it. Every time you try to burn this reconstruction, I’ll be there. It will get worse and worse.” Her voice followed him. “And maybe by that time, I’ll find out what I have to do with you. How you have to be punished…”

  “You’re not real.” He didn’t look over his shoulder as he jumped into the car and threw the box with the reconstruction on the floor of the backseat. But he couldn’t resist one last glance after he started the car and pressed the accelerator.

  She was still standing there by the fire.

  Her dark hair shining in the firelight, her eyes staring at him with that fearless boldness that made him want to kill her all over again.

  Not real. Not real. Not real.

  But his hand still throbbed and hurt the way it had when she’d bitten him.

  He had to get away from her.

  His foot stomped on the accelerator, and the car lurched forward. He wanted to throw the damn reconstruction out the window, but he couldn’t do it. Too dangerous. It mustn’t ever be found.

  Get rid of it later.

  Get away.

  He’d show her.

  But maybe not tonight.

  * * *

  “At last,” Eve said impatiently, as Nalchek finally picked up her call four hours later. She hadn’t been able to get past Nalchek’s voice mail until now, when she was on her way to the airport. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “Sorry. I was in a town meeting trying to soothe down a bunch of very nervous citizens. In this town, everyone knows everyone else, and Ron Carstairs’s death sent everybody into a tailspin.”

  “I can see how it would. First, you find a murdered lit
tle girl, then a deputy is killed. Any developments?”

  “No,” he said tersely. “What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to tell you that Joe and I are going to be on our way out to Sonderville today.”

  Silence. “Why?” he asked warily. “You can’t do anything that I can’t.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling myself since I started the reconstruction. It’s not working for me any longer.”

  “It’s true. You did your job, and it’s not your fault that you lost that reconstruction.”

  “Well, then why does it feel like my fault?” she asked fiercely. “I should have been able to do something. I shouldn’t have just waved good-bye to that FedEx truck and thought everything would work out. I was uneasy when I did it, and I should have paid attention to instinct.”

  “And I’m paying attention to instinct, and everyone in town thinks I’m nuts,” he said dryly. “I know my job, Ms. Duncan. I don’t need you wandering around my town and searching for that bastard who killed Ron. You stay where you are and let me do it.”

  “Too late. I’m on the way to the airport.” She paused. “You’re afraid I’ll get in your way.”

  “You’re damn right.”

  “I won’t do that. I’ll be careful not to step on your toes. I’m bringing Joe Quinn, and he has a tendency to take over, but I won’t let that happen. However, you must have some knowledge of Joe’s capabilities. He’d be an asset to you.”

  “I don’t need a big-city detective to barge in—” He stopped. “I sound like a belligerent ass. I guess I’m being defensive.” He was silent. “Yeah, he’d be an asset as long as he doesn’t try to pull rank.”

  “It’s your town, Sheriff. And you might find I could be an asset, too.”

  A very skeptical silence. “Not without a skull to re-create that little girl’s face.”

  “That’s still a possibility. We don’t know that the killer destroyed the reconstruction.”

  “If he took it, he destroyed it,” he said flatly. “Nothing else makes sense.”

  “Killers aren’t always sensible or logical.” She added bluntly, “And we need to work together if we’re going to blow him out of the water. I have a couple things to ask you about Jenny’s body.”