But she had never confronted him with that fact. She was proving unpredictable and therefore dangerous. He might have to do something about Stella. “Stay away from the media. Don’t answer any questions.” He reached for the phone. “And get out of here while I call Nelda Avery.”

“I want to stay.”

“I know. You’d enjoy seeing me uncomfortable. I won’t let you have that pleasure.” He stared her in the eye. “Go upstairs to my apartment and take off your clothes. Lie down naked on the bed and wait for me. After I get through talking to the Grand Dame, I’m going to need a release. I’m going to screw you until you won’t be able to crawl out of that bed. I’m going to make you scream, Stella.”

She moistened her lips. “Is that a threat? I can always go you one better. Why not do it on the desk while you’re talking to her? I could strip down now if you weren’t afraid someone would walk in on us.”

She would do it, and he was tempted. “Get out of here. Do what I told you.”

“Whatever.” She stood up and sauntered toward the door. “Good luck, Harry. Don’t be too long, or I might get bored and leave.”

That wasn’t going to happen. She understood the rules. Sex anytime, any way he wanted it. “You won’t leave.” He reached for his phone. “You like it here, remember?”

He watched the door close behind her before he began to dial the number. He was already feeling the tension that usually gripped him when he spoke to Nelda Avery. She always made him remember that she controlled almost every aspect of his life. Over the years, she had gradually become the puppetmaster who pulled the strings. He could visualize her sitting in her elegant house in Charleston, dressed in a designer business suit, her carefully coifed brown hair with only a few threads of gray. She was in her seventies but looked much younger, and her gray eyes were the coldest he had ever seen. She didn’t tolerate mistakes, and those eyes were going to be icy before he was done with her that day.

It was going to be a hellish call.

Keep the feeling of dominance and lust he felt toward Stella in the forefront of his mind. Think about what he was going to make her do. She was a woman like this ice queen to whom he was going to have to submit for the next few minutes. Substitution. Release. He would get through this.

Nelda Avery was on the line.

“Nelda, I’m afraid there’s been something of a glitch. Nothing irreparable, but it will be a little…”

CHAPTER

2

EVE’S PHONE WAS RINGING.

She ignored it. Not now, she thought impatiently. It couldn’t be Joe; she had spoken to him an hour ago, and he had told her he was going to be in a meeting at the mayor’s office. Anyone else could wait. She had to get two more depth measurements on Janelle’s midtherum area. The reconstruction was going exceptionally well. The skull was not broken, and all the pieces were—

The ringing stopped, then immediately began again.

Okay, dammit, she had to answer it. You didn’t ignore anyone that urgent. She crossed the room to where her phone was lying on the coffee table by the couch and checked the ID.

Sandra Duncan.

Her mother, Sandra. Maybe it wasn’t all that urgent. Sandra believed everything she did or experienced was vitally important and urgent. Eve was tempted to wait and call her back. Their relationship hadn’t been warm in years, though Eve had made every attempt after Sandra’s latest divorce to bridge their differences. Sandra hadn’t phoned her for months and had been either cool or entirely ignored Eve’s monthly duty calls to check on her at her condo.

No, Eve would only feel guilty if she found out anything was really wrong. She picked up the call.

“Hello, Sandra. How may I help you?”

“It took you long enough to answer.” Sandra’s Southern drawl had a distinct edge. “You can’t help me. I want to talk to Joe.”

“Joe’s not here. Do you need something?” She and Joe had paid off the mortgage on Sandra’s condo years ago and saw that she had a generous allowance. But Sandra had never been good with money, and it wasn’t unusual for her to come to Joe and ask for an “advance.”

“Of course I need something. Why else would I be calling you? Joe has to help me. I’ve been trying to reach him, and his phone is turned off.”

Why else indeed would Sandra be calling? “Joe is in a meeting. He won’t be home for another couple hours. I’ll ask him to call you.” This was ridiculous. Why saddle Joe with a potential problem? “But that’s not necessary. I can take care of anything that you need. Joe is always glad to help you, but, after all, you’re my mother, Sandra. Now what can I do for you? Do you need money?”

“No, I don’t need money,” Sandra said curtly. “And you can’t help me. I need Joe for this. He’s the detective. I’m in my car on the way to your place. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She hung up.

So much for getting any more work done on the reconstruction, Eve thought ruefully as she pressed the disconnect. Her mother had always been self-absorbed and had a tendency to blow up small problems into gigantic ones. She had probably received another traffic ticket and thought Joe should fight it for her.

She went back to her worktable and carefully placed one more depth marker before she stepped back and wiped her hands on the towel. “Sorry, Janelle, I have to take care of this first. I’ll get back to you later.” She heard a car on the road leading to the cottage. “She usually doesn’t take long. Joe and I are too boring for her.” Eve was grateful that Sandra led a busy life, with lessons and card parties and trips out of town with her different social groups. At least she was off the drugs that had plagued her while Eve was growing up. She hadn’t touched them since Eve had given birth to Bonnie. Those seven years before Bonnie had been killed had been the only period when Eve and her mother had been truly close and bound in the common bond of their love for the child. After Bonnie’s death, both Eve and Sandra had tried desperately to survive in their own individual ways and just drifted apart. Sandra had suffered another tragedy years later, when her adopted son, Mike, had been killed at college, and she had bitterly blamed Jane MacGuire, Eve’s adopted daughter, for not taking better care of him. Jane had always acted as a big sister to Mike and had pulled him out of jams since they had been kids. But that was one jam she hadn’t been able to fix for him. No amount of arguing could convince Sandra that Jane had done everything she could for the boy. Since then, Sandra had withdrawn from contact with any of the family except when she needed something.

Like now.

Eve forced a smile as she threw open the front door. “Ten minutes. You must have been closer than you thought.”

“I was in a hurry.” She strode into room. “And, no, I didn’t get another ticket. Though I don’t see what good it does to have someone working for the police department if he’s not willing to take care of little things like that.”

“That’s called corruption, Sandra. And Joe is never corrupt. He told you that you were out of luck when you asked him the last time.”

“It’s just a little thing.” She went to the automatic coffeemaker on the counter and put in a K-cup. “It’s not as if I were dealing drugs or something.”

“Is that why you want to talk to Joe?” Her lips tightened. “No way, Sandra. I won’t let you put him on the spot like that.”

“No, that’s not why I need him.” She took her cup of coffee and wandered over to the reconstruction on the worktable across the room. “Another one, Eve?” She made a face as she looked at the skull that looked like a voodoo doll with the red markers piercing it like swords. “Ugly. I’d think you’d get tired of this job. So depressing.”

And Sandra had shied away from anything depressing all her life. That rejection was evident in every aspect of her appearance. She must be seen as young and beautiful no matter what her age. That’s why she had asked Eve to call her by her first name from the time Eve was only a child. She had always been Sandra to her daughter. She was smaller than Eve and very pretty, with stylishly layered red-brown hair that flattered a face that had undergone at least two face-lifts, to Eve’s knowledge. Very good face-lifts—she looked almost as young as Eve these days and was far better dressed. She was wearing a short beige skirt, high heels, and a cream-colored hip-length sweater with a glittering gold multistrand necklace.