CHAPTER
1
BROKEN BONES.
Eve Duncan shuddered as she looked down at the pitiful remains of the little girls skull that shed carefully spread on the special tarp on her desk.
The childs skull was shattered, and the cheekbones and nasal and orbital bones were only unidentifiable splinters. The Detroit Police Department thought that the child had been beaten to death with a hammer. How the hell was she going to put that little girls face together again?
“Youre angry.”
Eve glanced at Joe Quinn sitting on the couch across the room. “Youre damn right I am.” She reached out and gently touched one of the little girls remaining facial bones still left intact. “Whoever killed this child had to be insane. Who would think it necessary to do this . . . this monstrosity? She couldnt have been more than eight years old.”
“And after hundreds of these reconstructions, it still makes you furious.” His lips tightened. “Me, too. Youd think wed get used to it. But that never happens, does it?”
Yes, Joe might be a tough, experienced police detective, but he could be as emotional as Eve when the victims were helpless children. “Sometimes I can block it. But this savagery . . . A hammer, Joe. He used a hammer . . .”
“Son of a bitch.” Joe got up and moved across the room to stand behind her. “Have you given her a name yet?”
Eve always gave her reconstructions names while she worked on them. It made her feel a connection while she strove desperately to give a name and identity to those poor, murdered children who had been thrown away. She shook her head. “Not yet. I just got the skull by FedEx this afternoon. Detroit forensics warned me to expect this, but it still came as a shock.”
“It looks like a lost cause.” Joe was gazing down at the splintered bones. “Its going to be a nightmare putting her back together. How do you know youve got all the pieces?”
“I dont. But theres a good chance. Forensics thinks that she was already completely wrapped in the yellow plastic raincoat in which he buried her when her murderer started this carnage. Maybe he just wanted to make sure that she was dead or that no one would ever recognize her.”
“This one is going to tear you up.” Joe reached out and began to massage her neck. “Youre already tense, and you havent even started.”
“Ive started.” She closed her eyes as his thumbs dug gently into exactly the right spot on the center of her neck. After all of these years of living together, he knew every muscle, every pleasure point of her body. He was right, she was tense. She would take this brief moment before she began to work. Joes touch, Joes support. It was a soothing song that helped to drown out the ugliness of the world. Once she actually began the reconstruction, there would be only her and this child, who had lost her life over ten years ago. They would be bound together in darkness until Eve could finish working and shine a light that would bring the little girl home. And she would bring her home. Shed give her back her face, then let the media publish a photo and surely someone would recognize her. “I started the moment I saw what that bastard had done to her.”
“You havent given her a name yet,” Joe said. “Tell Detroit to give her to Josephson to do the reconstruction. You may be the best, but youre not the only forensic sculptor in the country. Youve got a backlog of requests that will keep you slaving for the next six months. You dont need this kind of pressure.”
“She didnt need for some creep to do this to her.” She opened her eyes and gazed down at the broken skull. “Shes my job, Joe.” She thought for a moment. “And her name is Cindy.” She straightened in her chair. “Now let me get to work.”
“Dammit.” He stepped back, and his hands dropped away from her. “I knew it was a long shot, but I thought Id give it a try. Youve been working yourself to exhaustion for the last few months.” He wheeled and went back to the couch. “Go ahead. Break your heart trying to put that kid back together again. Why should I care?”
“I dont know, Joe.” She smiled. “But I thank God you do.” She looked down at the bone splinters that might belong to the nasal cavity . . . or might not. “And Cindy will forgive you for trying to push her off on Josephson.”
“Im relieved,” he said dryly. “But Ill take my chances on being in her bad graces. After all, shes been dead ten years. At the moment, youre the only one I care about. I dont want”
Eves cell phone rang.
She glanced at the ID.
She tensed.
“Who is it?” Joe asked.
“Venable.”
He frowned. “Not good.”
That was Eves reaction. They had dealt with Venable and the CIA on several occasions, and it usually ended with her being pulled away from her work and into deep trouble. Not this time.
She punched the button on her cell. “What do you want, Venable?”
“Why are you on the defensive?” Venable asked. “Maybe I only want to check in and see if youre okay. You were in a hospital in Damascus recovering from a gunshot wound the last time I saw you.”
“That was six months ago, and Im sure that you know Im fully recovered. You make it your business to know everything.”
“Im not the NSA. Im only interested in specific subjects . . . and people. I feel a certain attachment for you and Joe.”
“What do you want, Venable?”
He hesitated. “A favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Nothing thats dangerous or out of your realm of expertise. Id like you to do a computer age progression.”
“No.”
“It wouldnt take you that long, and Id appreciate it.”
“Im swamped, and even if I werent, you know I wont work for the CIA. Get one of your own experts to do the job. You have qualified people. Some of them are far more experienced than I am with computer age progression. I dont even know why youre bothering to ask me.”
“Because I have to ask you, dammit,” he said sourly. “It has to be you.”
“Why?”
“Because like everything else in my life, its a question of bargaining and balancing. I need you to do this, Eve.”
“Then youre going to be disappointed. I just started a new reconstruction, and I wont drop it for one of your twisted little jobs. Im not going to help you identify someone so that you can track him down. Im never sure whether the prey youre stalking is a saint or a slimeball. Or if hes a saint, that youre not using him in ways that Id never go along with. Youre capable of manipulating anyone to shape a deal.”
“Yes, I am,” he said wearily. “And some of those deals keep you and your friends from being blown to kingdom come by the bad guys. Someone has to stand guard, and I do a damn good job of it. Dirty sometimes, but effective.”
She supposed he did, but she didnt want to be involved in that morass even on a purely scientific level. “Let your own agents do it, Venable.”
“What can I offer you to do the job?”
“Nothing that I cant refuse,” she said softly but emphatically. “Take no for an answer. Its all youre going to get from me.”
“Ill try, but I may have to come back. Youre a prime bargaining chip in this one, Eve.”
“Listen, youre beginning to annoy me. Im not a chip, and Im not a chess piece for you to manipulate.”
“We can all be manipulated. It depends on the determination factor.” He paused. “Youd be safer if Im the one who does it. Im trying to avoid throwing you to the wolf.”
“Are you threatening me?”
She put up her hand as she saw Joe straighten at her words.
“I wouldnt be that stupid. Im just trying to keep you from making a mistake. Ive always liked you.”
He probably believed he was telling the truth, but it wouldnt keep him from using her. She was tired of arguing with him. “Im hanging up now, Venable.”
“Change your mind, Eve.”
She pressed the disconnect button.
“The bastard threatened you?” Joe was frowning, his tone grim. “I believe I need to pay a visit to Venable.”
“He said it wasnt a threat. More like a warning.”
“Thats a fine line where Venable is concerned. I take it he wanted you to do a reconstruction?”
“No, that would make more sense.” Her brow knitted. “I wont deny Im one of the best forensic sculptors around.” After her own little girl, Bonnie, had been kidnapped and murdered all those years ago, she had gone back to school and made sure that she had the skill to help bring final resolution and solace to other parents. Out of that nightmare of torment, when she had come close to madness and death, had emerged at least one decent thing from the agony. She could recreate the faces of those lost, murdered children. But not her little Bonnie. Search as she would, she had not found her child. What good was all her fine skill if she couldnt use it to bring her daughter home to rest, she thought bitterly. Her Bonnie was still lost, and so was her killer.
“Eve?”
She jerked her attention back to the subject at hand. “But Venable doesnt want me to sculpt a reconstruction, he wants a computer age progression. Im good at that, but I dont do enough to be called an expert. He could find someone faster and possibly more accurate just by making a few phone calls. I know the CIA has good technicians.”
“But maybe he doesnt want to go through the agency,” Joe said slowly. “Hes paranoid about leaks, and he could trust you. Venable doesnt trust many people.”
“Too bad. Im not volunteering.”
“Youd be crazy if you did.” His lips tightened. “Youre better off working yourself to the bone than playing in his ballpark. Whos the subject of this age progression?”
“I didnt ask. Maybe some war criminal theyre trying to trace? For all I know, it could be Bin Laden. I dont want to know. Its not my job.” She gazed down at the bones in front of her. “This is my job.”
“Then do it.” He flipped open his computer. “Let Venable pull his own chestnuts out of the fire.”
At least the call from Venable had made Joe more reconciled to her accepting the reconstruction on Cindy, Eve thought. He was willing to admit that the long, painstaking hours shed have to spend on piecing the little girl back together was the lesser of two evils.
Youd be safer if Im the one who does it. Im trying to avoid throwing you to the wolf.
Wolf. Singular. Not wolves.
Who was the wolf Venable was trying to save her from?
And she was still thinking about Venables words, she realized impatiently. Forget him. Forget everything but the little girl who must become something more than this pitiful heap of bones. She had been someones child. Long ago, someone had heard her prayers and tucked her into bed for the night. She deserved to go home to her parents and have them tuck her into her resting place one last time.
She reached out and gently touched the cranial bone. It will take a little while, but well get there, Cindy. Well bring you home and find the bastard who did this to you.
She felt a wave of sickness wash over her. No matter how many times that she was brought face-to-face with this savagery, she never became calloused. But the sight of these shattered bones was particularly painful.
She couldnt imagine the barbaric mind-set that would allow someone to smash the bones of another human being. . . .
* * *
Salmeta, Colombia
SHED HAVE TO BREAK THE sentrys neck.
Catherine Ling moved silently down the path of the rain forest.
She couldnt risk using even a knife. He mustnt cry out.
No sound. Every movement had to have purpose and deadly intent.
The phone in her pocket vibrated.
Ignore it.
The other outer sentries had to be eliminated to clear the way back to the helicopter.
She was a yard from the sentry. Now she could see that he was bearded and close to middle age. Good. She hated to kill those fresh-faced kids even though they could sometimes be more lethal. Anyone who worked for Munoz was dirty, but she always had to work to get past that element of youth. Stupid. She should know better. As a teenager, she had made sure that no one performed with more deadly precision than she did.
He was tensing. He was sensing danger.
Move fast.
He was a good six inches taller. Bring him down to her level. Her booted foot sliced between his legs and hit the side of his right kneecap. He lost his balance. Before he could regain it, her arm encircled his neck.
She jerked back and twisted. His neck snapped.
He went limp.
Dead.
She let him fall to the ground, then dragged him deep into the shrubs. Shed already disposed of the other sentry guarding the path along the brook. Her way should be clear the three miles to Munozs encampment.
Maybe. She had learned there was nothing certain where Munoz was concerned. She had been assigned to this hellhole for the last three years and made a study of the drug dealer. He was sadistic, volatile, and unpredictable. The stories that circulated about his brutality were sickening. His vicious profile was the major contributor to the storm of anxiety surrounding his kidnapping of coffee executive Ned Winters and his fourteen-year-old daughter Kelly. He was holding them hostage until the Colombian government released his brother Manuel from prison and every day a new and bloody threat was issued.
Her phone was vibrating again.
She glanced at the ID. Venable.
She punched the button, and whispered, “Ive nothing to report. Im on my way, but I wont be at the Munoz camp for another fifteen minutes.”
“Call it off. Now that youve located him, well send in the Special Forces to get Winters and his daughter out.”
“And get them killed. They dont have my contacts and they dont know this terrain and, by the time they do, it may be too late. Munoz has promised hell kill Winters and his daughter unless his brothers released. Those idiots in the Colombian government are stalling. I think they want Winters killed so they can get U.S. help to stage a full-scale attack on Munoz and the rebels.”
“I dont give a damn what you think. Back off.”
“No, we made a deal. You agreed to give me what I wanted if I managed to locate and free the Winterses. I can do this. Ive been watching the Munoz camp since yesterday, and I know exactly how I can pull it off.”
“Its too dangerous.”
She stiffened. She caught a note in his voice that made her uneasy. “You didnt give a damn about that when I called you and told you that Id find a way of getting Winters and his daughter away from Munoz. All you cared about was that it was going to get the heat off the director.”
“No, thats not all I cared about. Two American citizens are at risk. That matters to me.”
“Then you back off. Let me get them out.”
“Alone?”
“No, Ron Timbers is going to be on watch outside the camp. Theres only one guard at the tent where theyre keeping the hostages. I can slice through the back of the tent and get them out that way. Ron will warn me if theres any move from the guard. Bill Neely is bringing in the helicopter at a glade four miles from the camp. Why are you questioning me? Im good. You know I can do this.”
“I know you have a decent chance.” He paused. “But I thought I should tell you that I may not be able to give you everything you want in exchange. Ill give you access to the Rakovac file. I cant promise you Eve Duncan. She turned me down.”
Catherine muttered a curse. “Then go back and find a way to make her do it. I have to have her.”
“I can get you someone better. Technically, this isnt Eve Duncans area of expertise.”
“I want Eve Duncan. Persuade her.”
“You can have the file, but I cant promise Duncan. She walks her own path. Like you, Catherine.”
“Bullshit. I stopped walking my own path when you pulled me into working for the Company when I was seventeen. Since then, Ive worked every dirty assignment you chose to toss me.”
“True. But how could I resist? You were a natural. Clever, lethal, and with a survival instinct that made you almost unstoppable. I considered it a recruiting masterpiece. After twelve years, I still do, Catherine.”
“Im not complaining. I knew what I was getting into. I never expected anything else.” Shed grown up on the streets of Hong Kong and barely managed to exist without starving for her first six years. All her life shed had to fight for what she wanted, and Venable was no worse than other men who had tried to use her. Sometimes, she even liked him. He was totally dedicated to his work with the CIA and would let nothing stand in his way. It was surprising that shed managed to work a deal with him about releasing that top secret restricted file. If the director hadnt been getting so much heat from the media about the Winters kidnapping, she might not have fared so well. But the file wasnt enough. She had to have more. “Eve Duncan. You know where the bodies are buried on every continent in the world. Bribe her, blackmail her, make her an offer she cant refuse. I dont care how you do it. Just get her for me.”
CHASING THE NIGHT Copyright © 2010 by Johansen Publishing LLLP