“Why? He doesn’t give a damn about me. He knows you were using me as a chess piece in this dirty battleground you’re playing on. You wanted him to be sure that Kevin was still alive to you and I was part of some macabre revenge plan.”

“But you’ll notice that Zander said I’d accomplished my aim. Now we’re all on the same page. Isn’t that cozy?”

She didn’t answer as the door closed behind her. Her breath released shakily. She was glad that she hadn’t let Doane see how upset she was after that phone call. It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it did. Talking to Kevin’s killer had pulled her deeper into the matrix that Doane had drawn about her, smothering her, making her part of it.

He was smothering her. Not Zander, Kevin.

The memory of Kevin was suddenly before her. She could see the finely shaped lips, the gaping eye cavities, the smooth blankness of the rest of the face.

Waiting. Make me come alive. Bring me back. Punish you. Punish her.

Imagination. Oh, God, but what if it wasn’t?

She had to get out of here. She couldn’t touch that reconstruction again. She had to get away from him.

Don’t panic. Be calm. Think.

Doane had been wired when she had come in here, vibrantly alive, every sense on high alert. He had enjoyed every minute of that call to Zander. It was the wrong time to try to deceive or escape. It would be better to wait and pick a different opportunity.

But she didn’t want to wait. She wanted to break free. She wanted Bonnie to know she was safe, to know that no evil had touched her.

Bonnie …

But Bonnie couldn’t come, he was keeping her away. She looked up at the socket on the ceiling. But perhaps she could bring her near if she tried one more time …

“Don’t do it again, Mama. I was worried about you. It was almost too much.”

Her nails bit into her palms as her hands clenched in frustration. She had told Zander that she knew she was alone, but in this moment, that loneliness was nearly too deep to bear.

Stop whining, she thought in disgust. She would just do what had to be done. She’d stay away from that gas until the minute she tried to escape, then hope that her tolerance was strong enough. The last thing she wanted was to kill herself and let that bastard, Doane, win.

She moved across the room to the bed. Rest. Try to sleep. She had to be strong once she was on the run. She would listen for a while to make sure that Doane was as keen and alert as she thought, but tomorrow was probably the day she’d make her move.

The sound of Doane’s walking on the oak floor. His stride was quick, charged. He was going toward the worktable, stopping, standing in front of Kevin’s reconstruction. She could almost see him, staring eagerly, hungrily, at the half-finished sculpture.

Darkness.

Reaching out from the sculpture to enfold him. He would welcome that darkness, she knew.

But it was reaching past Doane, and she could feel that darkness touching her. She tensed and drew a deep breath, bracing herself.

Nausea.

She pushed it away. No way, you son of a bitch. You don’t have any power over me.

The nausea became stronger, then reluctantly ebbed and dwindled away.

She felt an instant of triumph, which vanished immediately. She had felt that darkness like a living presence. Before it had been less strong and could almost have been mistaken for imagination. But when Doane had stood before his son’s reconstruction just now, that dark wave had grown enormously.

Were they merging?

A bizarre idea, but Doane’s viciousness seemed to be becoming greater with every passing hour.

Every hour the reconstruction progressed …

So now she was blaming herself? Ridiculous.

She closed her eyes. Ridiculous or not, she still felt a chill.

And dangerous or not, tomorrow she had to leave this place.

*   *   *

“WASN’T THAT EXCITING?” Doane whispered, his gaze on Kevin’s face. “Zander knows that time is running out for him now. It’s all coming together.”

Kevin stared blankly back at him from those empty cavities. Doane hated those hollow eyes. Eve had replaced the blackened bones with smooth clay, but he wanted to look into those eyes and pretend it was Kevin’s soul staring at him.

Who knows? Perhaps it would be.

“What do you think, Kevin? Time to start the list?” He took out his phone. “Oh, yes, I agree. We’ve waited long enough.” He dialed Blick. “We’re moving.”

“Jane MacGuire?”

“You seem to be obsessed by her. Start at the top of your list. Let me know.” He hung up. “It’s done, Kevin.”

He turned away from the skull and strode toward the couch. Staring at those empty eyes was causing him pain. He’d lie down and close his own eyes and remember Kevin the way he was before Zander had destroyed his bright, handsome beauty.

And perhaps those memories would make Kevin come alive again for him tonight.

*   *   *

“IT SEEMS DOANE IS GETTING eager. I was wondering when he’d raise his head.” Zander turned to Stang as he hung up the phone. “Well, he’s done it, and it’s a very ugly head. He has Eve Duncan just as Venable told me. He’s forcing her to do a reconstruction of his son’s skull.”

“Will he kill her?” Stang asked.

“Undoubtedly. The question is when it will happen. He wants her to finish the reconstruction, but she may annoy him and cause him to blow.” He smiled faintly. “She’s not afraid of him. Nor me. You should have heard her take on both of us. It was … interesting. But dangerous for her if she can’t handle him.”

“Of course, she can’t handle him,” Stang said. “She’s an innocent woman who’s caught in the middle. I read that dossier you have on her.” He was silent a moment. “She seems to be exceptional. I don’t like the idea of her being butchered.”

Zander gazed at him in surprise. “I can see that you don’t. You never speak up and offer an opinion. She must have impressed you.”

“More than she did you.”

“That’s not true. Courage always impresses me. But I admit to curiosity more than admiration. I’m sure that doesn’t astonish you.”

“No, curiosity is cold and intellectual. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, or may I go to bed?”

“I think that was close to an insult,” Zander said softly. “Am I mistaken?”

Stang shook his head. “It wasn’t an insult. Not if you see nothing wrong with being either of those things. You are what you are.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “Could you stop him from killing her? You were planning on going after Doane before Venable asked you to delay.”

“But now Doane wants me to come after him.” He shrugged. “That was the reason for the call. He wanted to taunt me to make me angry enough to come and try to get him.”

“A trap.”

“One that he’s been planning for a number of years. He even dangled Eve Duncan as part of the bait. I actually think he believed I might be tempted to come and save her. He obviously doesn’t know me as well as you do.”

“Could you save her?”

“Possibly. But having him come after me is strategically more sound and less risk. Then I get to spring the trap.”

“And you said she may die after she finishes sculpting that skull if he’s angry enough at her.”

Zander merely gazed at him.

“I know.” Stang said as he went toward the door. “You don’t care. Stay out of your business. Well, you told me to read those dossiers. Why? Because it makes it my business. Maybe you knew I’d react like this and for some reason you wanted me to—” He broke off. “Why did Doane think that you might want to keep him from killing Eve Duncan?”

“He was never a good judge of character. Maybe he thought the years had softened me, and I’d be as sympathetic as you toward that poor, innocent woman.”

Stang frowned. “There’s something strange here. You were sure he’d go after Eve Duncan.”