Then he recognized it.

"Shit." His cup crashed down in the saucer. "She's doing the reconstruction."

"You almost broke the cup." Galen rescued the cup and saucer and put them on the tray. "And such fine china."

"She's doing the reconstruction, isn't she?"

"What makes you think that?"

"The smell of that alcohol on the hand towels she uses. When she's working, it clings to her like a second skin. I've smelled it a thousand times when she's working on a reconstruction. Her pillow is still smelling of it." He picked the pillow up and hurled it violently at Galen. "Now stop bullshitting me and tell me what's happening."

"I didn't bullshit you." He tossed the pillow back on the bed. "I was merely being evasive."

Joe tried to control his temper. "Galen, you're going to either tell me why she smells of-or I'll get up and go ask her myself."

"She wouldn't like that." He dropped down in the chair beside the bed. "And she wouldn't like me to confide in you either. But she deserves it since she tipped her hand by coming to see you and giving away the show."

"What show?"

Galen poured himself a cup of coffee. "Actually, it went off quite successfully. I didn't mean to go along, but it was an interesting…"

The skull was gone.

Diaz started to curse as he stared down at the skeleton.

"It seems Montalvo is on the move," Nekmon said as he shone the flashlight into the grave. "You think the forensic sculptor is still alive?"

"Montalvo wouldn't have come after the skull if he hadn't been sure he had someone to do the reconstruction."

"He took a big risk."

"Evidently not so big," Diaz said sarcastically. "When he invaded my territory and managed to steal this skull in the shadow of my mother's tomb."

Nekmon gazed down at the skeleton. "It's the Armandariz woman?"

"How do I know? She's just a pile of bones. But Montalvo must think she's Nalia Armandariz or he wouldn't have gone to the risk of claiming her skull."

"Can you get DNA from a skull that's been in the swamp for years?"

"I'd bet on it. They're doing all kinds of recovery with DNA lately." He turned away. "But that's not why he wanted the skull. He knows how difficult I could make it for any lab that ran the tests. No, her father is an emotional son of a bitch and Montalvo wants to stir him up against me."

"What do we do?"

"What do you think? We toss dirt into this damned grave and then we go after that skull."

"At his compound? You said it was too well-armed to attack."

"I want that skull. I'll do whatever I have to do to get it."

"We'll have to get more men from Bogota."

"You fool. There's no time. Of course we'll send for more men but we have to move quickly now. He wouldn't have brought that woman down here to cool her heels after he got the skull. She'll be working on giving that skull a face now. We have to buy time." He strode toward the cemetery gates. "No more mistakes. We have to take out Eve Duncan."

Eve was just out of the shower when there was a knock. She threw on a robe and opened the door.

"Quinn knows," Galen said. "You blew it."

"Damn. How?"

"He says you paid him a late-night visit smelling of those alcohol towels you use when you're working on a reconstruction."

"Stupid," she said in self-disgust. "Lord, I was stupid. I should have known he'd recognize that smell. He wasn't that far out of it. He even commented on my body lotion earlier in the evening."

"It wasn't bright," Galen said. "Couldn't you wait until today to see him?"

"Of course I could." She grimaced. "But I didn't want to wait."

"Because you were feeling a little bit as if you'd betrayed him by doing the reconstruction?"

She stiffened. "I'm trying to save his life."

"Very laudable motive." His eyes were narrowed on her face. "But weren't there a few other reasons why you wanted to do the reconstruction?"

"All right, I wanted it for me too. Montalvo gave me hope and I ran with it. There's nothing wrong with that as long as no one else is hurt. I did everything I could to keep Joe out of it."

"I'll testify to that. But you should have been more devious if you wanted to fool Quinn. Now you've got damage control."

"I'm not good at devious." She nibbled at her lower lip. "How did he take it?"

"He's royally pissed off. What do you expect? He tried to get out of bed and go to see you. Then he got grim and quiet."

She knew that mood. Joe was at his most dangerous when that first anger ebbed away. "I'll go to see him before I go to the library." She turned away. "Thanks for warning me."

"I tried to take some of the flak but he still has plenty of ammunition left for you. I don't blame him. I'd probably feel the same way. You had your reasons and they may have been good ones. But he doesn't like the idea of being protected and he doesn't like being left out."

"Too bad. This is my problem and I won't have him suffering for it. He's already gone through too much."

"But now you have another problem. Keeping him from exploding like a live grenade and blitzing all of us." He started down the hall. "I've already had a little taste of that and I'm not willing to stand still for it again. I'm patient, I'm not a martyr. Fix it, Eve."

Fix it, she thought in exasperation as she tossed on her clothes and ran a brush through her hair. How was she supposed to fix anything when every minute of her time, every iota of her mind, was going to be absorbed by the reconstruction of Nalia Armandariz?

The only thing she could do was be honest with him. She didn't have some sort of magical sticky glue to bond together all the pieces that seemed to be splintering. If she couldn't make him see her point of view, then she had to blast right through the situation in the only way she knew.

Ten minutes later she was opening the door to Joe's room. He was sitting up in bed and his expression was not encouraging.

"I had to do it, Joe," she said quietly.

"That's what I hear from Galen." His tone was cold. "It would have been nice to hear it from you."

"You would have argued with me."

"Considering the length of time we've lived together I believe that's my privilege."

"Maybe." She wearily shook her head. "I'm tired of arguing, Joe. We haven't been doing anything else since this business began. You're not going to change my mind. And evidently I can't change yours either. Stalemate."

"I can't accept that. I won't accept it."

"Then you'll have to suck it up and deal with it," she said bluntly. "I'm going to do the reconstruction and turn it over to Montalvo. Then I'm going to go home to Atlanta and wait for Montalvo to pay me back. I can't do anything else. I need to see if he'll go through with his promise. I need him to do that, Joe."

"Do you also need Diaz to cut your throat? That's what you're setting yourself up for."

"I'll take the risk. It's worth it to me. I'm close, Joe. I haven't been this close to finding Bonnie for years."

"You're blind."

She smiled shakily. "Possibly. But you've known that for a long time." She turned and opened the door. "I'm not going to change."

"I won't sit back and let you do this. I'm going to get out of this bed and I'm going after Diaz. I don't care what Montalvo is planning for him. He's going down."

She didn't look back at him. "And I'll try to stop you." She tried to steady her voice. "I guess that makes the situation very clear."

"Eve."

She stopped in the act of closing the door. "What?"

"Why did you come to me last night?"

"Why not? I always come to you when I'm hurting." She drew a shaky breath. "But I guess I can't do that anymore."