Why was she arguing? It was clear that he was not going to be swayed. Yet she had to make one more attempt. “You obviously had a very close relationship with your son. Do you think that he’d want you to put yourself in danger to exact some kind of revenge? You said he wanted you to keep yourself safe.”

“He’d want me to do exactly what I’m doing. Kevin believed in revenge. I can’t tell you how many times that he’d say, ‘We have to go after that one, Dad. The bad have to be punished. They have to learn that we’re the important ones.’”

Eve felt a chill. “And what did he mean by that?”

“What he said.” He sadly shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’m not explaining it right. Kevin should be here to tell you. It took a little while for me to learn what he meant, but then it was very clear.”

“It doesn’t sound clear. It sounds sick.”

“Are you trying to make me angry?” He got to his feet. “Kevin wasn’t sick. He was brilliant and very special. I’m proud to have him for my son.” He glared at her. “Just as you’re proud to have had Bonnie in your life. You shouldn’t speak badly of my son.”

“If your son was shot, why wasn’t the killer hunted down and captured? It doesn’t sound to me as if Kevin was a victim.”

“He was a victim. They all wanted him dead.”

“Why?”

“Because he was special.”

“You keep saying that. In what way was he special?”

“In every way.”

“You mentioned him walking out of a courtroom. What was he doing in court?”

“I’m through talking about Kevin. You’re not being very understanding.”

“Because you’re not telling me the entire story, are you?”

“I’ll tell you … someday. Right now, it might interfere with what you’re doing.” He turned on his heel. “I’m going out to the truck. I need some air.” He looked over his shoulder as he reached the door. His sudden smile warmed his craggy face. “You’ve been very hard, Eve. You mustn’t make us angry. But I forgive you.” The next instant, he’d deactivated the gas jet at the front door and left the house.

Eve felt herself go limp. She hadn’t known how Doane would respond to that far-from-delicate probing. What she had found out was sketchy at best, but she had gotten a glimpse into a murkiness she didn’t want to explore.

But she had to explore it. Just as she had to dive deep into this reconstruction, which was beginning to cause her to want to run the other way.

Okay, assimilate all he had told her and try to put them in some kind of order. It might not be possible, but at least she would have them fresh in her mind to make the connection when she could do it.

Zander. Who was he? Obviously the murderer of Kevin Doane. Why was Kevin killed? Doane insisted that Kevin was innocent of wrongdoing. But the remark about the courtroom was very suspicious.

And Doane’s words describing his son’s philosophy had been shocking, with shades of egotism or perhaps even schizophrenia. Doane himself was something of a split personality. One moment he appeared everything warm and kind and fatherly, and the next he was talking about revenge and acting out that revenge on the innocent. Jane, Eve, even Toby, the retriever. Which personality would take over in a crucial situation?

She looked up at the gas jets overhead. Another sign of Doane’s twisted character. A method of suppression that would keep her from hurting herself and permit him to use her to do the reconstruction. It was supposed to make her think of him in as kindly a light as possible. Instead, it was casting a macabre swirling haze over his actions. That kindliness was like the painted smile of the Joker in that Batman cartoon. She could see no evil, and yet she knew it must be there.

She mustn’t jump to conclusions. She had to be cool and calmly analytical.

Screw it, she couldn’t be cool about that man. It’s what he wanted from her. He wanted to fool her into thinking there was goodness and question every doubt she had of him. How could he even think that she would be fooled after what he had done to her?

Because he had done it so many times before.

The answer came swiftly out of nowhere. He had played the part and been accepted and smiled and thought that he could do it forever. That warm, guy next door, almost fatherly charisma had become his stock-in-trade. He used it with a skill that was totally disarming. A skill that was all the more dangerous because of what it hid beneath.

Why was she so sure that was the key to Doane when it was only a guess?

Because that guess felt … right.

She felt the muscles of her stomach clench. Don’t be afraid, dammit. He might be more dangerous than she had thought, but he could be handled. He had wanted to talk about his son. He had answered questions. The more she got to know about him, the better chance she had to get out of here.

She glanced at the door. And this might be an opportunity to see what she could find.

She moved quickly to the file case across the room. Locked. She went to the beat-up pine desk next to it.

The middle drawer was unlocked and opened immediately. Paper, pens, nothing of any importance. The drawer on the right was totally empty.

The drawer on the left was locked.

The lock wasn’t complicated. A simple tool could probably jimmy it.

What tool? Doane kept the kitchen utensil drawers locked. She’d have to jimmy that lock to jimmy this one, she thought dryly.

Find another way.

What work tools did she have? Most of them were soft, and bendable to work with the clay. But there could be—

The door of the truck slammed outside in the driveway.

He was coming!

She darted across the room, hopped on the stool, and picked up a red marker as the door opened. “You didn’t stay out there very long.” She lowered her head as she carefully placed the marker beneath the orbital cavity. “Did I run you out, Doane?”

“I came back to say I’m sorry. This is very difficult for you. I realize that you must feel intimidated. You can’t know what a fine boy my Kevin was, and I have to understand that words are the only way you have to fight back.” His voice was gentle. “Just do your work, and I’ll make it easy for you.”

“I am working.” His voice was so sincere she could almost believe him. “And you’re not intimidating me.”

He smiled. “Good.” He turned and headed for the kitchenette. “Now I’ll make us something to eat. At least, our little discord made you a little more lively. You’re not pale any longer. Your cheeks are positively rosy. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Eve reached up and touched her cheek. The flush to which he was referring had been caused by panic and running full tilt back to the reconstruction worktable from the desk across the room. She still had a touch of nausea, but she felt alive and active and on the move. “Are you? So am I, Doane.” She smiled back at him. “Very glad.”

Lake Cottage

“IS IT A GRAVE?” JOE ASKED as he came toward the mound of mud by which Venable was standing. “I thought you might have an answer by the time I got here.”

“You knew I’d be careful not to disturb the scene. If this is Dukes, I want to nail the son of a bitch who killed him.” Venable’s gaze never left the two men who were carefully digging through the mud. “And he didn’t want Dukes found right away. He took his time. He covered the area with leaves and branches, and he dug deep.”

One of the men stopped digging and looked at Venable. “I’ve hit something. I see a green tarp, and there’s blood on it. Should we go on?”

“Yes, just be careful.” Venable took a step closer. “Draw back the tarp. I want to make sure of his ID. After that, I’ll turn this over to forensics. But I have to know.” He looked down at the tarp and watched them draw back the waterproof plastic.

Joe stepped forward. The dead man was dark-haired, and his gray eyes were wide open and staring into nothingness. His throat was cut from ear to ear. “Dukes?”