“Yeah, I know. It makes me feel better but I should—”

“You should do exactly what you’re doing. Jane and I can handle everything here on the home front. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I know better than to fight the system. And I don’t like drug dealers. I want Martinez to be put away for a long time.”

“Me, too. We’ve been working on pinning this drug deal on him for two years. And hopefully he’ll run into a rival drug king in jail who will stick a knife in him and save the prison system trouble and money,” Joe said grimly. “What time does Jane come in?”

“Eight.” She opened the door and walked out with him on to the porch. “And she says this is going to be a long, long visit, so you won’t miss her. We’ll both meet your plane when you come back.” She kissed him again. “So hurry and get through with Martinez, dammit.”

He started down the stairs, then stopped and turned back to look at her. “I don’t want to do this.”

She frowned. “Joe, you’re being weird. What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to leave you.”

“And that’s all?”

He shrugged. “I had a call from Venable about an hour ago.”

“And?”

“Nothing. He said that he heard about the Martinez case and was glad that we were going to nail the bastard at last.”

“Did he have something to do with the case?”

“He’s CIA. Not DEA. Marginally, perhaps. Nothing direct.”

“So why did he call?”

“That’s what I’m asking myself. After he finished talking about the Martinez case, he asked about me and you and Jane. It was more like a casual social call.” He added grimly, “And Venable is never either casual or social. He always has a reason.”

“But this time it appears to have more to do with you and Martinez than me. So why be worried about me? Venable may be showing up at the courthouse down at Miami.”

“I doubt it. It sounded … like an excuse. I may call him back.”

“Joe.”

“Okay, I’m going. Since you’re obviously trying to get rid of me.”

“Because it’s your job.” She smiled. “And you’d only get in my way. I’ve got to try to finish Ryan’s reconstruction before I go pick up Jane. Heaven knows, I won’t have time once she gets here. She’s already set up visits with half her friends from school, and it seems I’m included in those plans.”

“Of course you are. You’re her best friend.”

“Yeah.” She smiled brilliantly. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“When it doesn’t get in the way of your work.”

“I can live with it. She can be pretty obsessive about her own work. She jokes about being a starving artist, but she’d never be anything else. It’s usually a good balance.” She watched him walk down the steps. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the airport?”

“No, I’m meeting the captain at the precinct, and she’s giving me a final briefing. I’ll leave the car at the airport.” He grinned. “But I’ll still expect my two favorite women to meet that plane. I’ll get someone to pick up the car.”

“We’ll be there.” She watched him get into the jeep. “Call me when you get settled.”

He nodded as he started the car. “I’ll probably be able to talk to Jane by that time. It will—” He broke off, his expression suddenly serious. “Be careful.”

“Joe…” She shook her head. “You’re the one taking a trip to face the big bad drug mogul. Jane and I are going to stay here and catch up on what we’ve missed.”

“Yeah, I know.” He started to back out of the driveway. “Just … be careful.”

“Right.” She watched him drive down the road until he went around the bend. She didn’t want to let him go. She had made fun of his unusual concern, but neither of them ever took the love between them for granted. Maybe he sensed something wrong, something that would endanger that bond. You couldn’t live your life worrying because you felt things weren’t right. That wouldn’t be logical or smart. Yet you couldn’t ignore those feelings either.

She shivered suddenly and turned to go back into the house. Had Joe’s uneasiness been contagious, or was she feeling that same sense of something … not right?

Forget it. She had work to do.

She strode over to the dais, where her current reconstruction was displayed.

“We have to finish you right away, Ryan. Jane is coming,” she murmured. She always gave her skulls a name so that she could maintain a connection that would help her with the reconstruction. Her hands moved gently, sculpting, smoothing. She felt the same calming closeness as she usually did when working at bringing these lost ones back to the world that had abandoned them. It was as if their souls were trying to reach her, tell her, help her. “No disrespect. We did the big work last night and this morning. Just a little tidying up, then I’ll add the eyes…”

She had no idea who this little boy, who had been sent to her by the Bloomington Police Department, actually was. She estimated he was nine years old. He had been unearthed in a grave in a construction site, and no one had been able to offer a clue to his identity. Hopefully, once the photos were taken of the completed reconstruction, he would be identified.

And so would his murderer.

Ryan would go home.

And hopefully the person who had shoved him into that grave would go straight to hell.

“Brown eyes, Ryan…” She always used brown because they were more common than lighter shades. She carefully put the glass eyes into the orbits. “What a handsome little boy you are…”

Birmingham, Alabama

“WE’RE GETTING CLOSE, KEVIN,” Doane murmured, turning on his lights as he got on the freeway. “The next state. I’ll have to stop once we’re over the border and steal a license plate. Venable will know that I’ve left Colorado by now. It wouldn’t be smart to let him know where we’re heading, would it? You’d have probably changed the plate before now. And once we reach the lake cottage, I’ll definitely have to change cars. Or maybe a truck … You were always better at this than I was.” He turned on his computer on the seat beside him. “But I’m trying, Kevin. I worked it all out. I won’t let you down.” He typed in a quick e-mail to Blick on the computer. “In place?”

No answer.

Doane could feel a trace of panic surge through him. “It will be okay, Kevin. It takes time. Blick won’t let us down. We’ve been planning this for months. I’ve told him exactly what to do.”

His computer suddenly pinged. Blick.

“In place.”

Relief flooded Doane. “You see, I told you. He’s steady. He’ll do the job,” he murmured as he got on the freeway. “I just have to keep him from killing her…”

Lake Cottage

EVE GLANCED AT THE CLOCK across the room—6:10 P.M.

Time to shower and head for the airport.

She wiped the clay from her hands on the cloth she kept on the worktable beside the reconstruction. “Okay, Ryan. That’s as good as I can do. No, as good as we can do. You helped a lot.” Coffee, first. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since lunch, and she didn’t know how long it would be before Jane got out of Customs.

She popped in a Southern Pecan K-cup in her Keurig. She didn’t need anything stronger, and she liked the smell of the brew. These single-cup coffeemakers were a miracle on the par with—

Her cell phone rang. Jane.

“Don’t tell me your flight got in early. I haven’t left the cottage yet.”

“No, I’m in San Juan.”

Eve stiffened with shock. “What?”

“I know. I meant to call you earlier, but there was an emergency, and I had to arrange to leave London. I got a lift on a private jet.”

“Why on earth?”

“Toby. My dog’s sick, Eve.” Her voice was shaking. “The vet in London didn’t know what was wrong. Toby’s just getting weaker and weaker. The vet can’t pin it down, and nothing he’s tried has helped. None of the tests are conclusive. He suggested I put him to sleep. I told him to go to hell.”