What could she say? After what Jane had gone through in the last twenty-four hours, why should she trust anyone? "I don't know. I'm not sure if I'd trust anyone either. I guess because I'm your best bet."

"That's not saying much."

Frustration made Eve speak sharply. "Well, it's all you'll get from me. It's all I can give you."

"You don't have to get nasty."

"Yes, I do. I feel nasty. I'm mad as hell and I don't need--" She bit her lower lip. "Sorry. Things are piling up on me."

Jane was silent until they reached the front entrance of the apartment building. "It's okay. I'd rather you be nasty and honest. I hate those soppy caseworkers who ooze all over me."

As a child, Eve had hated them too, but as an adult she felt bound to defend them. "They want only to do their--" Oh, what the devil. She was too tired for hypocrisy. "I promise I'll never ooze." She opened the back door of the car. "Jump in. We have to get out of here."

Mark looked over his shoulder at them. "I see we've lost one of our orphans."

"Mom will take care of him."

"So where to now?"

"Away from here. Fast. One of the first things the police will do to find me is talk to Mom. We're lucky we got here before they did. Go somewhere outside the city. A motel."

"Any preference?"

She shook her head. "Somewhere safe."

"Safe from Dom or safe from Joe Quinn?"

Joe.

Mark's narrowed gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. "Joe will find you, Eve."

She knew he would. It was only a matter of time. So she had to take advantage of that time. "I'll deal with Joe later."

He gave a low whistle. "Better you than me."

But no matter how much she dreaded it, she needed to call Joe at least one more time. She had to tell him about the scrawl on the cardboard box and the bone. Perhaps Dom had left some scrap of evidence.

He had made no detectable mistakes so far.

But wasn't he showing signs of recklessness? Mere hours after killing Fay Sugarton, he risked discovery by planting that bone only blocks from the crime scene.

Maybe he wasn't invulnerable. Maybe this time he'd left a clue to his identity.

So call Joe, take the flak, and tell him.

MARK GRUNARD DROVE them to a Motel 6 near Ellijay, Georgia. He arranged for a single room for himself and a double for Eve and Jane.

"As you ordered." He handed Eve a key. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks, Mark."

"For what? I'd like to say I'm doing everything to save the kid, but I'm really interested only in the story."

"Thanks anyway."

She pushed Jane into the room and locked the door. "Bathroom. Wash up." Jesus, it was cold. She turned up the thermostat. "You can sleep in your underclothes tonight. I'll get you something else to wear tomorrow."

Jane yawned. "Okay."

She called Joe's digital number as soon as she was sure Jane was asleep in the twin bed next to her.

"Joe?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"I'm fine. And I have Jane MacGuire. She's safe."

"I've been hunting all over the city for you. Sandra wouldn't tell me a damn thing."

"Are the police bothering her?"

"Of course they are. What do you think?"

"Help her, Joe."

"As much as I can. She's not the one they want. Where are you?"

She didn't answer the question. "I just called to tell you there may be usable evidence in the alley off Luther Street. Dom left a message in blood on a cardboard box and a child's finger bone on the ground."

"Does the message say who the child is?"

"No."

Bonnie.

Close it out. Don't think about Bonnie.

"And I don't know who the blood belongs to."

"I do. The security guard at the welfare house you busted her out of."

"Christ." She shivered as she realized Dom might have already been preparing to go after Jane. "How long has he been dead?"

"We don't know yet. It was cold tonight. Time of death can be hard to determine when the body's been exposed to low temperatures. The last time anyone saw him was about eight-fifteen."

So his death could have occurred in the early evening, hours before she appeared on the scene. The eerie feeling she'd had as she had stood beneath Jane's window could have been imagination.

"Which makes you both a kidnapper and a suspect in a murder," Joe said.

"Murder?"

"You were at the scene. Though I don't believe anyone's going to seriously believe you're a murderer."

"That's comforting."

"But you'll be considered at least a material witness, and you'll be wanted for questioning. And then there's the kidnapping. There's an APB on you."