Lord, he was persistent. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m tired and I just want to take a shower and rest. Thank you for the offer.” He nodded. “You see? You couldn’t have worked anyway. It’s just as well that Senator Melton was delayed in New York.”

“I’m seldom too tired to work.” Eve turned back to the bayou. “Is that the church?”

“Yes.” Tanzer nodded at the ornate entrance of the huge crumbling structure a few hundred yards away. “See, it’s only a short distance.”

“It looks completely deserted.”

“Perhaps it is. I wouldn’t know.”

“Is that where the skull is now?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t told. It’s where you’ll be working.”

“Is there someone I should contact?”

“Senator Melton will know.”

It was like trying to draw blood from a turnip, and Eve had had enough. She held out her hand. “I won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for everything.”

“Oh.” Tanzer shook her hand. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Well, you only have to call my office if you change your mind. I’m at your disposal.”

“I’ll remember.” She waited until he’d left the bedroom before crossing to the phone on the desk to dial the number on the card.

“I brought your towels.” Marie stood in the doorway.

“Thank you. I’ll be with you to help in a moment.”

“Why? This is my job.” She crossed the room and disappeared into the bathroom.

Melton was not at the hotel, and Eve had to leave a voice mail. Great. Just great.

She didn’t need to spin her wheels this evening. She needed to work until she was so exhausted she could sleep tonight.

“Do you need help unpacking?” Marie had come back into the room.

“No, thanks. I didn’t bring much.” Eve smiled. “And I don’t want to impose on you. That isn’t your job.”

“Unless I choose.” Marie smiled back at her. “There’s nothing shameful about being a servant. It’s hard, honorable work. I just don’t like being patronized by a trou du cul.” She turned to leave. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.” What was a trou du cul? She had an idea, but she’d have to see if she could find it in a French-English dictionary in that library Tanzer had mentioned.

She went back onto the balcony and looked at the main entrance of the church.

There might be someone there. Maybe she’d take a walk over there after dinner…

But that dinner was going to be ready in thirty minutes and she should take a quick shower. She’d have to hurry. If she was late, she wouldn’t be surprised if Marie threw the meal into the bayou.

And what was a trou du cul?…

“This is delicious.” Eve ate the last bite of food on her plate. “What is it?”

“Spezzatino di Manzo cot Fagioli,” Marie said.

“And that is?”

Marie grinned. “Beef stew.”

“Is it a Cajun recipe?”

“No, Italian. I don’t only specialize in Cajun food.” She made a face. “I know Tanzer probably pigeonholed me in a neat little corner of his mind, but I’m not as predictable as he’d like.”

“It’s not like any beef stew I’ve ever eaten. What’s in it?”

“Everything. But I can’t tell you. It’s my mother’s recipe and it’s a big secret. If I told you, then I’d have to kill you.”

The woman’s humor no longer surprised Eve. She had found Marie’s conversation interesting and her knowledge well rounded. Marie was unusual, to say the least.

“Heaven forbid. Your mother taught you to cook?”

“Partly. I went to the cuisine school in New Orleans after I left the university. I was going to be this magnificent, temperamental chef who would dazzle all the world with my delicious concoctions.”

“Well, you dazzled me. You changed your mind?”

Marie shrugged. “Life changed it. I got pregnant and I had to make adjustments.

You can’t take chances when you have to care for a baby.”

“You have a child?”

“A boy. Well, a man. Pierre’s at Tulane University in New Orleans himself now.

He’s very smart and kind. He’s going to be a wonderful physician, but it takes a lot of money.” She looked at Eve. “You have children?”

“I have an adopted daughter, Jane. She’s only twelve, but she’s pretty wonderful, too.”

“Then you understand how I feel about Pierre,” Marie said soberly. “I would do anything for him. He’s my whole world.”

“Yes, I do understand.”

“Good.” The housekeeper drew a deep breath. “More wine?” Eve shook her head. “I need to keep a clear head. I thought I’d walk over to the church and see if I can find something to do.”

“What work do you do?”

“I’m a forensic sculptor.” That was seldom explanation enough. “I reconstruct faces from skulls.”

“I saw something on the television about that.” Marie made a face. “Very creepy.”

“It all depends how you look at it. You get used to it.” Eve got to her feet. “Thank you for a great meal, Marie.”

“Who are you going to…” She searched for the word. “Reconstruct?”

“I try not to know. I might be influenced. Will I see you when I get back?” Marie shook her head. “I’ll wash up and go home.”

“Where do you live?”

“I have my own house in the city. The key to the front door is on the table in the foyer. I’ll lock the back door. I’ll be back at seven in the morning to fix your breakfast.”

“I’ll see you then.” But Eve hoped she’d be up and working by that time. “Goodbye, Marie.”

Marie smiled and turned away.

Nice woman, Eve thought as she left the house. Thank God, she would have someone around that she liked and understood in this strange place. She was already feeling more at home here.

A few minutes later she was walking across the bridge spanning the bayou. This ancient church was a strange choice for a work site, she thought. Or maybe not. It was certainly private enough, and Melton had stressed confidentiality.

The brass knocker on the huge double doors made a resounding noise.

No answer.

She knocked again.

Silence, dammit.

Well, it had been a long shot anyway. She knocked one more time, waited for a few minutes, and then turned away and started back toward the bridge. It was clear she’d have to be patient and wait until tomorrow.

But Eve didn’t want to be patient. She wanted to get to work. Why couldn’t Melton have been here as he’d prom—

What was that?

She stopped, her gaze flying back to the main entrance of the church.

Had someone come to the door and called her?

The door was still shut.

Yet she would swear someone had called her. The impression had been so vivid…

Well, it hadn’t happened. It was probably a case of so badly wanting that door to open.

It was still early, but she’d go to bed and try to sleep. When she woke, she’d grab some breakfast and try the church again.

She stopped before going back into the house to glance back at the church.

The door was still shut.

Déjà vu.

She had a sudden memory of last week, when she’d had that sense of…

something… up on Bonnie’s hill.

Not Bonnie. It wasn’t Bonnie. That had all been a lie.

But maybe that feeling she’d had on the hill had not been a lie. Maybe the bastard who’d later desecrated the grave had been there.

But this feeling was… different. She would swear she’d heard someone call.

Nonsense. It was because her nerves were stretched taut and she was an emotional wreck. The only thing she’d heard calling her was the work she’d been hoping to do tonight. Everything would be better after a good night’s sleep.

Eve woke three hours later and barely managed to get her head over to the side of the bed before she threw up.

“Oh, God.”

Sick. So sick.

She staggered down the hall toward the bathroom, but threw up twice before she reached it.

Her stomach wouldn’t stop wrenching. Pain. Nausea.

She dropped to the floor beside the toilet.

She threw up again and again and again.