“It’s not going to be that fast,” she said absently. “You’re asking too much. I have to find a carrier with a reason to be concerned.” She dropped down on the ground and crossed her legs tailor fashion. “You’re right; the birds are disturbed. Some of them left when the grave was being dug. Some when you excavated the body. There are only a few left who were here originally, and I don’t sense any who witnessed anything disturbing.” She saw Joe’s skeptical look, and said, “Yes, if they saw Dukes’s throat being cut, they would be particularly disturbed. Death disturbs all creatures. Even if they don’t understand it or empathize with it, there’s a sense of loss.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He hesitated, then fell to his knees beside her. “What’s next?”

“I cast around for an animal I can work with who has been disturbed enough to linger or come back to the grave.” She was gazing down the hill at the grave. “It may take a while.”

He was silent for a few minutes, his gaze on her intent face. “How long?”

He could see the effort she had to use to jerk her attention back to him. “You don’t have to stay. It’s hard for you to believe it’s worthwhile, that I’m worthwhile. I’ll come back to the cottage if I have anything to report.”

The words surprised him with their simple maturity. She gave the impression of cheerful high energy and youthful vigor, but he was beginning to see layers beneath that façade that intrigued him. “I’ll stay. God knows I don’t have anything else to do right now until Venable—” He broke off as his phone signaled an incoming call. “That may be Jane. I told her to call me if Venable showed—Shit!” He was gazing at the ID. “Eve!” He punched the button.

Nothing.

A dial tone.

He was dialing Venable as he jumped to his feet. “I just got a signal that could be a missed call from Eve. It didn’t even ring. What the hell is happening? Did you get a trace on her?”

“They’re working on it,” Venable said. “The call was cut off before it made a connection. But they may have the tower.”

“May?” Joe repeated savagely. “Who the hell knows what Eve risked to make that call. And your tech guys can’t trace it?”

“They’re trying, Joe. If anyone can do it, they can. I’m almost at the cottage. I’ll see you within an hour.” Venable hung up.

Joe whirled and started down the hill toward the path to the cottage.

“Joe.” Margaret called out quietly from behind him, “I know that this seems unimportant at the moment, but I think I’ve found what you were looking for.”

She was right. When he’d gotten the call from Eve, he’d forgotten that Margaret existed, much less for what he’d asked her to search. He looked impatiently over his shoulder. “What, already? You said that it would take—”

“It’s a feral cat. I got lucky.”

“And that means?”

“Cats are clever, and they stalk prey. Feral cats are always looking for food, and this one scavenges the neighboring farms as well as your woods for his next meal. The wife of the farmer who Doane stole a truck from often fed the feral cats on the property.”

“So?”

“The cat was familiar with the farmer as well as his wife. There was often grain in the bed of the farmer’s truck, which he went after when he couldn’t find any other prey.”

“What does that have to do with Dukes’s death?”

“Dukes watched Doane get rid of his blue car and the farmer’s body. But Dukes mustn’t have been too good at his job because Doane turned stalker and went after him. He cut his throat, then took the body away to bury it. Probably because he didn’t want anyone to discover his car or the farmer before he took Eve.”

“This cat told you all this?” Joe asked sarcastically.

“No, don’t be silly. All I get is impressions for the most part. A lot of it is my interpretation of what the cat saw combined with what you told me.”

“And where is Doane’s car and the missing farmer?”

Her gaze went to the north side of the lake. “The lake is deep out there?”

“Very deep.”

“Then you’ll have trouble retrieving the car.”

“We checked the entire bank of the lake for any sign of vehicle entry.”

“It was raining that night, and Doane must be very good at masking his trail.”

“So judged your feral friend?”

She ignored the sarcasm. “There’s a huge moss-covered rock near the bank where the car went into the water. Do you know it?”

He slowly nodded his head. “I taught Jane how to dive off that rock when she was a kid.”

“Then you have somewhere to start, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.” It could be guesswork about that moss-covered rock on the north side of the lake, but it was a peculiar coincidence she had known about it since Margaret had just arrived at the cottage. But, hell, her story was even more peculiar than the coincidence. He had to choose which one to believe.

No, he didn’t. He’d accept everything and check it out later. He started back down the trail. “I’ll order a new search in that area. Come on, let’s get back to the cottage. We have to be there when Venable gets there.”

“We? That sounds … companionable. You’re going to let me help Jane?”

“I’m going to let you help Eve. Providing we find signs that car went into the lake.”

“Eve. Jane. It’s the same thing for me.”

“Not for me.”

“I can see that. She stands alone.” Her voice was a little wistful. “You truly love Eve, and you don’t try to mask it or hide it. It’s … nice. Most people I’ve met are afraid to give themselves unconditionally to any emotion.”

“Then they’re cheating themselves. Are you coming or not?”

She didn’t move. “I’ll be along soon. I have something to do.”

“What?”

“The cat. He was afraid and ran away and didn’t see Dukes’s body being removed. I have to let him know that he doesn’t have any reason to stay close to the grave.”

He frowned. “Why the hell should he be doing that? I’ve never heard of a cat’s guarding a grave.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Go on. I’ll be down soon.”

“Why?” he asked again.

She was silent a moment. “He’s a feral cat,” she said quietly. “He scavenges for food. How do you think he knew where Dukes was buried? He was hungry and followed Doane when he hid the body. But Doane buried Dukes, and he couldn’t get at him. I have to let him know that he should go look for other food.”

Joe grimaced. “Pleasant thought.”

“No, but it’s nature. We’ve got to accept it and not hang our own values on other creatures. He’s doing what his instincts and self-preservation tell him to do.”

“And you accept it?”

“Most of the time. When my emotions don’t get involved.” She turned back to look at the grave. “And I like this cat. He loves lying in the sun and everything about the forest and hunting. He’s tough, but that’s okay, there’s no malice. Maybe we can persuade that farmer’s wife, Mrs. Hallet, to be a little more proactive in taking care of the ferals.”

“If the cat doesn’t eat anyone she knows.”

She shrugged, and said again, “Nature.”

*   *   *

“THEY SHOULD BE BACK SOON.” Caleb had come up behind Jane on the porch. “You could call Quinn if you’re worried.”

“He just called me. They’re on their way back. He thinks he just got a signal from Eve’s phone.” She held up her hand as he started to speak. “But Venable doubts they can trace it, dammit. She managed to try to get word to us, and we can’t even take advantage of it.”

“Is there a chance?”

“Not a very good one.”

“At least you know Eve is alive and working to save herself. That should give you some comfort.”

“It doesn’t give me comfort. I’m upset and feeling pissed off. I want her back here.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I hate staying here and waiting. Eve is helping herself, but I’m not doing anything. I could at least have gone with Margaret and Joe if he hadn’t dragged her off so quickly. I want to shake someone. Preferably Joe.”