She shook her head. "The puppy's not for you, Joe. It's for me. I'm being entirely selfish. I want to be near you. I want you to talk to me. I want you to make love to me." She smiled shakily. "And I won't put it off. I won't wait until it's too late. Will you come to bed and be with me, Joe Quinn?"

"Oh, yes." He slid his arm around her waist. His voice was as uneven as hers had been. "You're damn right I will."

Chapter SIXTEEN

When Spiro called Eve that afternoon, she told him what Dom had told her of his childhood. "Did the technician monitoring the phone trace the call?"

"No, that's been a washout, dammit. But what Dom told you computes with the little we've learned," Spiro said. "We've contacted the schools in Jamison. No school records for the Baldridge boys. But I managed to track down a couple of reports about an official going out to see Reverend Baldridge and inquiring why the boys weren't in school. The reverend claimed his sons were being home-schooled. He didn't think the boys would get a godly education in public schools."

"Anything else?"

"One more thing. The reports were on Ezekiel and Jacob. No mention of Kevin."

"If he never attended the services, maybe they didn't know he existed."

"Judging by the destruction of that hilltop, I'd say he wanted to make his presence known."

"Not necessarily. He went for years and never seemed to need public recognition of his acts. It's only recently that he's changed."

"He was just starting out then. He hadn't learned. He hadn't evolved." Spiro paused. "But even though he's different now, he would still have traits that fit the usual pattern of the organized offender."

"Above average intelligence, for one," Eve said. "But all this talk isn't getting us anywhere. We need to know what he looks like. Where is that photograph?"

"Don't get your hopes up. The photo may not be the answer."

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said."

"We're supposed to be working together. Stop being evasive. Tell me."

Spiro was silent.

Dammit, he was stubborn and FBI through and through. She was getting tired of prying information out of him. He had made a deal, but it was clear he wasn't going to budge on this point. Okay, pin him down at least on the time. "When?"

"Soon."

"When?"

"God, you're persistent. Tomorrow, maybe." He hung up.

THEY DIDN' T GET a duplicate of the photograph until two days later. Spiro came to the house and handed Eve a five-by-seven envelope. "Here it is. You're going to be disappointed."

"Why?"

"Look at it."

Joe moved to stand beside her as she opened the envelope and took out the photograph.

It had obviously been taken in a huge backyard. Two teenage boys sat in the foreground at a picnic table; a third was far in the background, coming down porch steps.

"According to Mrs. Harding, the kid on the steps is Kevin Baldridge," Spiro said. "The two at the picnic table are Ezekiel and Jacob."

Dammit, Kevin Baldridge was not only far away but the photo had been slightly overexposed, and because he was in motion, his figure was blurred and completely unrecognizable.

"No wonder the police didn't take this from the Hardings at the time," Eve said. "He's just a blur. He could be anyone. Joe told me that Charlie was troubled about this photograph. I can see why." She looked at Spiro. "Photo technology has improved enormously in the last twenty-five years. They might not have been able to clarify this photograph then, but you can do it now, can't you?"

"Probably. I've sent another duplicate to Quantico." He paused. "But I wondered if you'd like to take a shot at it yourself. You work with photographs too."

"My specialty is age progression, and that's completely different from what you need here."

"Oh." Spiro was disappointed. "Too bad."

Yes, it was, she thought with frustration.

"Nothing you can do?" Spiro asked.

She thought about it. "Maybe." She stood up and got a phone book. "If there's a film developer in town who does global corrections."

"Global corrections?"

"Air brushing and other kinds of--Here it is." She had found an advertisement in the yellow pages. "Pixmore. Now we'll have to see if they have the equipment and the experts to do the job."

"Glamour shots?" Joe was looking over her shoulder at the ad, which showed a close-up of a beautiful woman. "Not exactly scientific."

"How do you think companies like this make their money? They remove everything from zits and facial wrinkles to dark hair roots on photographs." She looked at the photograph again. "They might be able to do it. Correctors prefer to work with slides, but I'll take this to them, see if they have someone qualified." She put the picture back in the envelope. "These places are usually backed up for weeks. Can you put a little FBI muscle behind me?"

"I'll have Charlie meet you at Pixmore," Spiro said. "How long should it take?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe twenty-four hours. It depends on how good the technician is and what kind of overtime he's willing to put in."

"I'll ask Charlie to stay with him until it's finished."