She went back to the bed and crawled under the covers. Jane must have arrived at the island, but Eve hadn’t heard from her yet. She hoped that was good and not bad for Toby. She remembered how Toby had tried to crawl up on Jane’s bed during a thunderstorm when he was a puppy. How many times had Eve come into Jane’s room to see them curled up together? She had always turned a blind eye. She had just been glad Jane had formed an attachment that could not hurt her and only be healthy. She’d always been so alone …
Get well, Toby. God, don’t let her lose him yet.
* * *
SHE HAD GONE BACK TO BED, Doane thought as he took the earphone out of his ear. It was clear Eve Duncan was restless from the movements he had heard in the cottage.
Why not? A woman who dealt with the dead would naturally be highly sensitive.
Do you feel me out here, Eve?
Or are you worried about your Jane? She had talked to Jane MacGuire a few hours ago, and the affection between them was very obvious. Affection and a protective bond that was as clear as sunlight. He had been right to take measures to remove Jane MacGuire.
He had enough problems with trying to avoid that patrol car that was making rounds. He had thought Venable was responsible for that before he’d monitored the call between Joe Quinn and Eve earlier. Of course, Venable could still have done something to trigger Quinn’s concern.
“Difficulties, Kevin,” he whispered. She’s not as alone and fragile as I thought. I expected it to be easier. I planned it so well. Just the way we did when you were alive.
He looked up at the window of Eve’s bedroom. The rain was striking the sheet of glass between them. She didn’t realize how vulnerable she was as she lay in that bed.
Not yet.
Sleep well, Eve. I’ll get back to you.
I have things to do.
* * *
JANE STRAIGHTENED AS DEVON BRADY came into the small waiting room at the lab facility. It had been over an hour since the vet had taken Toby into the examination room and told them she’d get back with a report as soon as she could. “Is he okay? What can you do for him?”
“No, he’s not okay,” Devon said gently. “He’s failing. I think you know that’s true.”
“Don’t tell me that. Tell me what you can do for him. I didn’t bring him all this way to have you tell me he’s going to die. What’s wrong with him? With all these instruments and research files, surely you know more than that doctor in London.”
“It could be several things, but it doesn’t fit in any one slot. Respiratory failure, but for what reason? His lungs look fine and so do—” She broke off. “I know you don’t want to hear details and guesses.”
“No, I want you to tell me how you’re going to cure him,” she whispered. “You can find a way, right?”
“Maybe. But first I have to find out what it is we have to cure.”
“Then do it.”
“I intend to make every effort. I’ve called in a consultant to help me, but I had to get your permission.” She checked her watch. “She should be here in another five minutes. I had to call and roust her out of bed.”
“Why didn’t you have her here when we came from the airfield?” Caleb asked.
“I didn’t know I’d need her. I had your vet’s records, and I trust myself in most cases. I thought I’d be able to make a diagnosis.” She shrugged. “And you’re having enough to deal with right now. I didn’t want to upset you unless it was necessary.”
“Why should I be any more upset than I am right now?” Jane asked.
“You didn’t trust me. Margaret is not very professional-appearing. You have to know that she—”
“I hurried as quick as I could. Where is he, Devon?”
Jane turned at the question to see a woman coming in the door. No, not a woman, she looked more like a young girl of not over nineteen or twenty. Her thin body was dressed in jeans and a loose white shirt, and her pale brown hair was shoulder length and glowed under the lights. Everything about her glowed, Jane thought absently. She was tanned a golden brown, with a sprinkling of freckles dusting her nose. Even her bare feet were tanned in the leather thongs.
“He’s in the lab,” Devon said. “I had my assistant take him off the table and lay him on the floor for you.”
“Good. I’ll go right in.” She started for the door. “You should have called me before you—”
“Wait, Margaret,” Devon gestured to Jane. “You have to get permission. This is Jane MacGuire. Margaret Douglas. Margaret’s going to try to help your Toby.”
“What?” Jane stared in disbelief. “This is your consultant? I thought she was a tech.”