“You’re being too hard on yourself. It’s a suspicious world. You know that no one wants to give out information unless forced by authority.” He paused. “Sounds like you need a cop.”

“Joe.”

“Just a thought.”

“Not a good one. You have two more days.”

“Maybe.” He said, “In the meantime, I’ve been looking into Nalchek.”

Eve glanced at Margaret next to him. “Building scenarios?”

“It’s hard to build any case against him. He was in Afghanistan when Jenny was killed. He came back over a year later and worked with his grandfather at his vineyard until his death. His father resigned as sheriff eighteen months later, and Nalchek ran for office himself and was elected by a sound majority.” He added, “No hint of corruption, and he won the Silver Star when he was in the service.”

“So he’s clean?”

“I didn’t say that. I’ve seen pastors who seemed above reproach turn out to be serial killers. I said that on the surface it appears it’s going to be difficult to dig up anything derogative.”

“I don’t want derogative. I want the truth.”

“And that’s what you’ll get. But not in a few hours,” he said. “I’ve got a call coming in from Sonderville. I’ll talk to you when I know something.” He hung up.

Eve glanced at Margaret. “You heard him. Nalchek evidently appears eminently respectable.”

Margaret looked away. “I heard him.”

“But you don’t believe him.”

“If Nalchek was a holier-than-thou type like that pastor Joe was talking about, I’d have more trouble. But he’s very human, and people make mistakes. I believe Nalchek’s capable of everything and anything. Just as we all are if the circumstances fall into line.”

Eve’s brows rose. “You appear to have made a study of him.”

Margaret shook her head. “Sometimes, I don’t think I know him at all. But I do know he’s very human.”

CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER

Joe opened his eyes when Eve pulled back the sheet and slipped into the hospital bed. “Hi, I wasn’t sure that you’d be coming back here tonight. I thought you’d go to your hotel.”

“You thought wrong. I dropped Margaret at the hotel and came to you.” She kicked off her shoes and pulled the sheet over both of them. “And if the nurse tries to kick me out, I’ll tell her I’m in dire need of therapy, and you’re the only one who has the qualifications.”

“What type of therapy?”

“Not the one you’re thinking about. I’m not an exhibitionist. Though I would never be ashamed of anything we do together. It’s all good. Would you?”

He pulled her close and cradled her head against his shoulder. “Hell, no,” he said gruffly. “I feel sorry for anyone who’s missing out on what we have.” He brushed his lips against her temple. “What therapy?”

“It’s hard being away from you. It’s harder not to be able to say yes, to not give you anything you want.”

“You didn’t show it.”

“But you knew it. If you didn’t after all this time together, then we’d have a serious problem.”

“And the therapy you require?”

“Just this. Just to know that no matter how much we disagree, in the end, this is the only thing that’s important.”

He was silent. “You’re not going to get your way if I see a danger, Eve.”

“And I’ll do exactly what I told you I’d do.” Her voice was low. “And tomorrow night, I’ll come back to you like this and you’ll hold me and everything but what’s between us will fade away. Isn’t that true?”

He was silent again. Then he chuckled. “Who am I to deny you therapy? I seem to need it myself.”

“Say it, Joe.”

“Words?” His voice was silken soft. “Yes, it’s true. In the end, everything else just fades away…” He kissed her, then abruptly sat up in bed. “Turn on the lights.”

“What?” she said, startled.

“Do it. In the end everything else fades away. But this isn’t the end, and I have to fill you in.”

She was gazing at him in bewilderment as she got up and turned on the lights. “What are you up to?”

“Doing the only thing you allowed me to do. Pull up that chair.” He took his yellow pad from the bedside table. “I think I’ve got most of it figured out.” He showed her a pad full of notes and crossed-out sentences and questions. “Though there are a few things that didn’t make sense.”

“I can’t make sense of any of it.”

“Okay, take it from the beginning as I did. Walsh. What do we know about him? Yes, he’s a child killer, but what else?”

“You know the answer. Burglar, murderer, human trafficker, drug dealer, and who knows what—”

“Stop right there. Human trafficking. That’s the only crime most likely to connect to Jenny or any other child if you rule out serial killer. We’ve both noticed that Walsh is different; he’s in control, and though he enjoys the kill, he doesn’t let it rule him. He’s an enforcer, and he lived a good life obeying the Castino family. He wouldn’t let a careless, self-indulgent kill interfere with that life.”

“Human trafficking … You’re saying he kidnapped Jenny and was going to sell her?”

“That was my first thought.” He shook his head. “But everything connected to her death is too complicated. Why kill her instead of sell her?”

“Impulse? Emotions?”

He shook his head. “Then why spend years hunting down her sister? There had to be a reason that would impact his wallet or reputation.”

“And that would be?”

“I think this is the way it went down. Walsh was working for the Castino cartel in Mexico City right before Jenny was killed, according to Interpol. It’s logical that the chain started there. Castino was dipping his hands in human trafficking as well as his other criminal pursuits, and it would be natural for Walsh to be involved as his enforcer. So I called Mexico City Police and asked some in-depth questions. You know I spent a few weeks down there this year at that cartel seminar.”

“I remember. You made quite a few contacts.”

“And one of them was Detective Máñez, who has been investigating the cartels for the past twelve years. I believe we managed to work it out together.”

Eve leaned forward. “Tell me.”

“Castino’s is only one of several cartels in Mexico. Probably the most powerful, but there are others who are constantly at war with them. Needless to say, the fighting gets very vicious. No holds barred. A man can make a fortune playing both sides.”

“Walsh.”

“Juan Castino had a beautiful Russian wife, Natalie, and they had two children. Unfortunately for her, both were girls. Our macho Castino wanted boys. But he would never admit something he owned wasn’t perfect. He made a big play about being besotted with the girls. Which made them automatic targets. Kill the girls, hurt Castino. The police think Walsh was hired by Alfredo Salazar, who runs a rival cartel, to double-cross his boss and do it. But it was too dangerous to do it on Castino’s home turf, so he waited until he was due to escort a group of slave laborers to Southern California to work the fields down there. He arranged to kidnap the girls and send them in the trucks bound for the fields. It was a quick and easy way to transport extremely hot merchandise. When he got there, he was supposed to kill them and safely dispose of them. No one was supposed to know that Salazar had funded the kill. It would have started a messy gang war. Salazar wanted the satisfaction of destroying the children Castino cared about and wanted to be able to gloat without consequences. It was important that no bodies be found. So Salazar chose an expert, Walsh.”

“A monster…”

“But something evidently went wrong. He wasn’t as efficient as Salazar had hoped. One disposal clumsily handled, one child escaped and went on the run. That probably had something to do with Elena Pasquez, who might have helped the children to escape.”

“Who?”

“Elena Pasquez, a young nursemaid, who disappeared at the same time as the children, probably also kidnapped by Walsh.”