And Eve was having that now-familiar urge to comfort and hold her. “Neither do I. But I’ll be in contact with the sheriff, and he’ll give me progress reports on what’s going on with you. He’s a good man and he cares what happens to you.”

Silence, then a wistful, “But he’s not you, Eve.”

What was she supposed to say to that?

“I’ve upset you. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Jenny added quickly, “There’s always the music.”

The music again. It seemed to be Jenny’s safe haven when she was upset or afraid. “Yes, you told me it was always there. What kind of music?”

“All kinds. I like Chopin best. He makes my heart sing. Though Brahms soothes and takes away the pain.”

And it was breaking Eve’s heart that she was the one who had caused that pain. She moved toward the reconstruction. “I have to do the computer program on the reconstruction now. But you might remember something else, that there are always the memories of you that are held by the people who loved you.” She added, “Who still love you, Jenny.”

No answer.

Jenny was gone.

And Eve was looking down at the reconstruction of that little girl who had worn her pretty white dress to please Eve and make her happy.

She blinked back the stinging moisture and started to set up her computer.

It’s the right thing to do, Jenny.

12:40 P.M.

“Sorry, I was a little late, Ms. Duncan. I know you requested a morning pickup.” Ted Donner, the FedEx driver, was entering her package onto his computer. “The company had me pick up a few packages on another route.”

“No problem. I had some computer work to do anyway.” She smiled. Donner had been covering this route for the last four years, and he’d always been reliable. “Just so it gets to California tomorrow. I have a sheriff out there who will be on my case if it doesn’t.”

“We’ll get it there.” He turned and ran down the steps. “Have a nice day.”

“You, too, Ted.”

Eve stood there watching the FedEx truck drive away from the cottage and down the road. Usually, she felt relief and satisfaction at a job well-done when she saw her reconstructions depart her custody.

Not this time.

She was feeling sad and a nagging sense that she had failed Jenny.

Nonsense. She had done exactly what Nalchek had asked of her. It was possibly the best reconstruction she had ever done. Any emotional backfire had to be caused by the fact that she had begun to be too close to the little girl. It had been logical and practical for her to send that skull and the other information to law enforcement, who had the means to take the search a step further.

Logical.

Almost from the beginning, there had been nothing logical about her approach to Jenny’s reconstruction. She had that in common with Nalchek. They had both been swept away by the mystery that surrounded Jenny. That might have been a good thing because it had caused both of them to exert all their efforts to solve that mystery.

But now her part was over, and logic had to rule. She’d feel better after she called Nalchek and told him that Jenny was on her way to him.

She turned and went back into the cottage.

Empty.

Of course, it was empty. Joe was at work.

And she was done with Jenny and had told her that she was now in Nalchek’s hands.

She took out her phone and dialed Nalchek. “I’ve just FedExed the reconstruction to you,” she told him when he picked up. “I think you’ll be pleased. She has a very memorable face and should be easy to ID if you’re able to get cooperation from the media. I’m doing a last check of the computer photos, and I’ll be e-mailing them to you later today.”

“Great.” Nalchek’s voice was sharp. “And you overnighted that skull?”

“Of course. She should be there before ten tomorrow.”

“Sorry. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.” He paused. “And I just got back from a memorial service for Ron Carstairs. It was hell.”

“They usually are. And I’m the one who is sorry for your loss. I hope when you get the reconstruction, that it will help you to feel a little better.”

“Thanks,” he said curtly. “But that may take a long time.” He hung up.

So much for calling Nalchek to make her feel what she’d done was worthwhile. It had only reinforced how wrong everything had gone on Jenny’s case.

She found her gaze wandering over to the couch where she’d last seen Jenny.

Of course, she wasn’t there.

Work.

Finish up the photos.

That would distract her.

She put her phone on her worktable and opened her computer.

2:45 P.M.

One more adjustment …

Eve zeroed the computer camera in on Jenny’s delicately pointed chin that she’d sculpted on the reconstruction.

And her cell phone rang.

Joe calling to check? She’d tell him she’d call him back.

Not Joe.

FedEx.

Dammit, had she forgotten to fill out one of those many boxes on the form?

She punched the access. “Look, did I make a mistake? Can we correct it on the phone? That box has to be in California in the morning.”

“No mistake, Ms. Duncan. This is the dispatcher, we just wanted to make sure that the driver picked up your package. We show he did, but you’re the last one before we lost contact.”

She stiffened. “Lost contact?”

“I can’t talk to you any longer. I was just authorized to check. We have the police and a company representative who will be on their way to—”

“Police? What the hell are you talking about?”

“An accident,” he said quickly. “Our FedEx driver had an accident.”

“What? Where?”

“On Quinn Road, a few miles from the expressway. That’s why we were almost sure he’d made the pickup.” He paused. “But we can’t locate the package. Don’t worry, I’m sure that we will. And, as I said, a company representative will—”

“Can’t locate the—” She jumped to her feet. “This is weird as hell. And why would anyone send the police with that FedEx rep?” She was heading for the front door. “You’re not telling me the truth.” She slammed the door, locked it, and ran down the porch steps. “Let me talk to your supervisor.” No, that would just be adding to the red tape. “Never mind.” She hung up and called Joe as she jumped into the Jeep. Voice mail. “Joe, something crazy is happening with that FedEx I sent out a couple hours ago. I’m on my way to check it out. Call me.”

Her foot pressed the accelerator, and the Jeep leaped forward.

*   *   *

She saw the white FedEx truck a mile before she approached the expressway.

But there was no sign of a crash or another vehicle. Yellow crime-scene tape was barricading the area around the truck. Police squad cars, a forensic van, and an ambulance were parked along the road.

Not good.

She parked behind the barricade and jumped out of the Jeep. She lifted the tape and ducked beneath it.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, you’ll have to go back.” A young policewoman ran forward. “This is an investigation and you’re not allowed to—”

“What kind of investigation?” She looked at the woman’s badge. “Officer Maddox. I just received a call from the FedEx dispatcher to tell me that I’d be receiving a visit from the police and the FedEx rep. Why?”

“I’m sure that one of the detectives will be able to tell you what you need to know. But you really do have to get beyond the tape and let us get your statement. It’s not—”

“Eve, what the hell are you doing here?” Detective Pete Salyer had come around the truck. “I just called Joe and left a message for him. He’s with the captain and the mayor at some council meeting. I thought he’d want to know.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d known Pete for years, and she liked and trusted him. “Know what?”

“A murder practically on his doorstep would interest him.”

Shock surged through her. “Murder?”