“I didn’t demand anything,” Eve said as she opened the door. “I just displayed some good old American skepticism. Call us when you get around to making up your mind.”

“Wait.” Kendra was glaring at Eve. “If that was your attempt to goad me, don’t bother. Hardly a day goes by that some detective or federal agent doesn’t interrupt my workday to beg for my help, then insult me by saying I probably couldn’t have helped them anyway. As if that will somehow make me desperate to prove myself.” Kendra leaned against the table. “But you … You’ve annoyed me just enough so that I’m going to get the last word even though it’s quite clear to me that’s something you’re not accustomed to.” She paused. “Just as it’s clear to me you two are sleeping together.”

Eve tried not to let the surprise register on her face.

Kendra crossed her arms across her chest. “Although I don’t believe you slept together last night. You were in Atlanta, weren’t you, Eve? You flew here this morning, but Quinn wasn’t with you. I’m guessing he picked you up at the airport just a short while ago. Don’t you live together?”

“We do, but I’ve been here in California for a couple days,” Joe said.

“Ah, that explains it. You’re a little out of your element on this case, aren’t you, Eve? You’re much more accustomed to talking to the dead. Or, I suppose, letting the dead talk to you.”

Eve inhaled sharply. How in hell … The dead? Bonnie? Was she talking about Bonnie? Her gaze flew to Joe’s face. “You told her about—”

He was shaking his head and mouthing a silent “no.”

“You’re a forensic sculptor,” Kendra said. “With your help, the dead tell you all their secrets, don’t they?”

Eve let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Not Bonnie. But Kendra’s meaning was only a little less startling than the alternative.

“I’ve always admired people who can do that,” Kendra said. “You must be very talented.”

“Right back at you,” Eve said, trying not to sound as dazed as she felt. “Are you sure you’re not psychic?”

“Positive.” Kendra turned away. “Now leave me alone. I’ll let you know what I decide. I still have your cell number, Quinn. Or would you prefer I call you at the Docket Cove Hotel?”

Eve turned to Joe. “Is that where we’re staying?”

Joe nodded. “But I didn’t tell her. And there are at least five hotels between there and here.”

“More like a dozen,” Kendra said.

Eve didn’t move and slowly shook her head. “I’m not leaving until you tell me how you knew all that.” She thought about it. “You probably found out Joe was coming, and you researched us or asked around. Is that it?”

Kendra smiled. “I value my time a lot more than that, Eve. Until you walked through that door, I wasn’t even aware that you existed. But I did know Quinn, and I remembered that he was always somewhat guarded with his personal space. Especially with women. He always kept his face a good six to eight inches farther away from women than he did with men.”

“What?” Joe said. “Seriously?”

“I’m sure you’re not even aware you do it. I don’t think you’re afraid of women, but subconsciously you may be wary of leading them on. A handsome man like you, it’s probably happened a time or two. But with Eve, I saw you crash through every barrier I ever saw you set for yourself. And instead of backing away slightly, as most colleagues or even friends tend to do, Eve leaned forward. Even though the two of you haven’t so much as touched hands since you’ve been here, it’s pretty obvious what’s going on between you.”

“How do you know we weren’t together last night?” Eve asked.

“You’re not going to like this.”

“How?”

“Because I’m afraid that you smell, Eve.”

Eve’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“Have you ever stepped onto an airplane and breathed in that awful stale odor of recycled air?”

Eve nodded. “Of course.”

“That’s how you smell to me right now. A lot of that air actually comes through the engines, then is recycled throughout the cabin. Depending on the aircraft, it can sometimes smell like a mixture of jet fuel and bad breath.”

“And that’s how I smell?” She grimaced. “How very unpleasant.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t offend anyone. It’s so faint that no one but me would even be aware of it. But Quinn has no trace of that odor.”

“Go on. What else?”

Kendra pointed down at Eve’s shoes. “There’s the slightest trace of red Georgia earth on the sides of your shoes and spattering the cuff of your pant leg. It could have come from Tennessee or Alabama, I suppose, but knowing that Quinn is from Georgia, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think you’d also come from there. The earth is still fairly fresh, not too dry or cracked, suggesting it was just put there this morning. Quinn’s shoes, though, are spotless. And unless he’s in a crime scene, I know for a fact that he’s not too careful where he walks. He strides through the world as if he owns it. Even before I caught a whiff of your scent, I figured he came from someplace else this morning.”

“Impressive,” Eve murmured.

“What else? Oh, yes, your profession.” Kendra walked over to Eve, took her hands, and spread her palms open. “You have faint stains on both of your hands. Dye from a polymer-based sculpting clay.”

“How do you know I’m not a rising star of the art world?”

Kendra studied Eve’s hands for a moment longer with an intensity that was vaguely unsettling to Eve. She was a private person, and she didn’t like feeling this transparent to another individual. What else was this woman going to find out about her? Yet she couldn’t deny that the revelations were totally fascinating. And so was Kendra Michaels.

“At first glance, I considered the possibility,” Kendra said. “But I rejected it when I saw that you almost exclusively use flesh-colored clay. That fact tilts the scales quite a bit. But I also noticed the tiny callused nubs, on each hand near the tips of your thumb and forefinger. Too small for pen, stylus, or almost any other tool. But just the right size and placement for those spherical-headed spacer pins you’d use in facial reconstruction. I once worked a case with a forensic sculptor here in San Diego whose hands looked very similar, Patrick Chicoin.”

“I’ve met him,” Eve said. “He’s very good.”

“So I’ve been told.” Kendra dropped Eve’s hands and her gaze slid away from her. “That’s all. We’re done.”

Eve stiffened. “No, we’re not. There’s something else besides calluses and clay stains, isn’t there?”

Kendra raised her gaze to Eve’s face. “Yes, sometimes you have to go beyond the purely physical evidence. There’s a darkness inside you that’s visible for anyone to see. It all fits together.” She shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to be perceptive enough to catch that particular nuance. No offense. You asked.”

“Yes, I did.” Eve smiled with an effort. “And I beg to differ. I don’t believe I’m that transparent to everyone. You’re fairly incredible.” She turned to Joe. “You were right.”

“Of course I was.”

“My student will be here any minute,” Kendra said. “I’ve wasted enough time. Will you just leave me to my work?”

Eve turned back to Kendra. “Okay, we’re going. But there’s no way I’ll leave you alone now. You’re amazing, and you can be useful.”

“If I change my mind—and I don’t think I will—I know where to find you.”

“Yes, you do,” Joe said. “How did you know about the Docket Cove Hotel? I stayed there last night, but I know I didn’t tell you.”

Kendra walked across her studio and opened the door for them. “It’s the only hotel in the area that insists on giving their guests those long brass door keys. Some of my clients have stayed there. I’m sure the hotel thinks those keys are more charming than plastic keycards, but they’re much less secure.” She pointed to Joe’s pants pocket. “The key is clipped on your rental-car key ring, which I saw you put away as you walked in here.”