Taking Eve(105)

“You’ll be disappointed. These are glass eyes, and they only reflect color, not personality.”

“Maybe. Put them in.”

She did not want to put those eyes into the skull. She did not want to complete this reconstruction of a monster. “Later.” She pushed her stool back. “I need a cup of coffee.” She walked toward the kitchenette. She could feel the tension in every muscle. It was almost time. It was late afternoon, and she needed to escape while she could still see the terrain to give herself the best chance. Doane was excited, impatient, absorbed with his son, less likely to notice anything different about her demeanor. Good. Because she felt as if her determination and nervousness were blatantly obvious.

Calm down. She had a plan, didn’t she? She had worked and experimented with those gas vents. It wasn’t as if she were going at this blind.

“You can’t have everything your own way, Doane.” She put on the coffeemaker. “You brought me here because I’m an expert, right? Now let me do my work the way it should be done.”

“Yes, you’re an expert.” He was frowning. “And that’s one of the reasons why I brought you here. Not the only one. I had no idea you’d be so difficult. I want those eyes put in.”

She turned her back on him and reached for a coffee mug.

He muttered a curse. “You’re a bitch who doesn’t realize how helpless you are. I’m the one in charge. I’m the one who makes the calls. I have the—” His phone rang, and she saw him check his ID as she glanced over her shoulder. “Curious?” He was smiling maliciously. “I made a call to Blick last night. I wanted someone dead. That’s how much power I have. I just say the word, and someone dies. Do you know who I told him to kill?” He punched the access. “Hold on, Blick. A lesson is in progress.” He looked at Eve. “You heard me send him to your lake cottage when we were in the truck. People you care about are there. Did I tell him to kill Joe Quinn? Jane MacGuire?”

She couldn’t breathe, her chest painfully tight. “I don’t believe you.”

“Which one, Eve?” he asked softly.

She moistened her lips. “Neither. You wouldn’t want to sacrifice a possible way to control me.”

“Clever. But I had you for a minute, didn’t I?” He pressed the speaker button on the phone. “Go ahead, Blick. Success?”

“He’s dead. I killed him in his garden. It was a great shot. I was able to break into the house next door and zero in on him from one of the upper-floor windows. Kevin would have been proud of me.”

“I’m sure he would have been. Any interference?”

“A guard inside the house. I was able to get away while he was checking out the old man.” He paused. “You know, I think the old man knew I was there. He lifted his head as if he was listening or something. Then he just sat there as if he was waiting. Weird.”

“But he’s dead, that’s all that counts.”

“Yeah, where do you want me to go from here?”

“I’ll let you know.” He looked at Eve. “Maybe back to the lake cottage.”

“Whatever you say, but the woods were crawling with cops. It may be chancy.”

“I’ll let you know,” Doane repeated. He hung up.

“Who … is the old man?”

“I think you can guess. You’re so clever. General John Tarther. He’s lucky he lived to be this old. He’s been on borrowed time for the last five years.” He looked back at the reconstruction. “But we got him, didn’t we, Kevin? I couldn’t make it last as long as I wanted. I sent him to you to do whatever you want with the bastard.”

She shuddered as she saw Doane’s vicious intensity. “Why now?”

“I’m sure you realized that my call to Zander last night was the signal for the game to start. I was willing to let Blick take care of Tarther, so that I could concentrate on Zander.”

And while Eve had slept, an old man who had only sought final justice for the death of his child had breathed his last.

Rest in peace.

Help him, Bonnie.

“So you can see that I’m in charge. I make the rules. One phone call, and I can—”

“I understand you.” She didn’t want to hear any more. She was sad and sick at the thought of that needless death. She had to stop that obscene bragging. “I’m duly intimidated.”

“No, you’re not. But you will be. Put in Kevin’s eyes.”

“Do it yourself.”

He was taken aback. “What?”

“If you won’t let me finish the rest the way it should be done, then do it yourself.” She poured the hot coffee into her mug. “Placing the eyes is the simplest part of the process, and who should know better how they should look.” She took a sip of coffee. “I’ll open the display case for you, if you like.”