Hunting Eve (39 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Hunting Eve
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“Don’t tell me that.”

“I have to tell you exactly that,” he said fiercely. “Do you think I want to do it? I
hate
it. I can’t stand seeing you like this. I want to stop it. But I can’t stop it. All I can do is cut you, and hurt you, and hope that you heal soon.”

“She’s not dead. She can’t be dead.”

“I hope you’re right. But don’t expect me to tell you that you are. I’ll leave that to Trevor or Quinn. They’ll comfort you and maybe even make you feel better.” He stepped back. “Go on. Go to them. They’re still behind the saloon.” He turned away. “Or what used to be the saloon. I’m going to go talk to Venable and see if he has a way to find out … if there’s a way of definitely ascertaining if there were any victims in that hellhole of a blast. I’ll let you know.”

Joe was struggling to get to his feet when Jane reached him a few minutes later. His face was cut and bleeding, and his eyes were wild.

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “No, Jane. It doesn’t make sense. We can’t lose her.”

“I know.” She went into his arms. Caleb had said there would be comfort, but that was not true. There was love but not comfort. The world was still barren. She had the horrible feeling it would always be barren. “I’ve always told people that I’d know if anything ever happened to Eve, that I’d feel it. But now I’m not sure. Maybe that’s what I’m feeling now.” The tears were running down her cheeks. “Is it, Joe?”

“No, because it’s not true. I won’t
let
it be true.”

“Jane.” Trevor was beside her. Warm, kind, loving. “There’s a chance. Don’t lose hope yet.”

“That’s what Caleb said you’d tell me. He said go to Trevor, and he’ll comfort you.” She said, “He’s getting to know you very well, Trevor.”

“Because I won’t give up until we get an ID.” He said gently, “And, give me the opportunity, and I’ll wrap you in all the comfort that this world provides. It would be my privilege.” He turned away. “I’ll leave you two alone. You don’t need anyone else right now. I just talked to a Howard Stang, who said he could get a doctor here right away. I think we need to get you looked at, Quinn. You may have some cracked ribs.”

Joe wasn’t listening, Jane realized. He was staring—stunned, numb—at the blazing firestorm that seemed to be growing in intensity by the moment, feeding on itself.

Devouring air, devouring life, devouring hope.

Eve went into that saloon and never came out. Dozens of witnesses. Jane, all focused in hopes that Eve would walk out of there.

Dozens of witnesses …

Give me a miracle, Eve. All my life with you you’ve made every day a miracle. I need a miracle now.

But the panic was starting, piercing the numbness, and desperation as she stared into the searing depths of that fire.

Oh, God, no miracle this time, Eve?

*   *   *

“I’M SORRY, JANE.”

She looked up to see Venable standing a few feet away.

He looked genuinely sorry, she thought dully. Too late. Everything was too late.

“That’s nothing to how sorry you’ll be if Joe finds out that it was one of your damn bullets that caused the saloon to blow.” She gazed at Joe, sitting beneath the trees several yards away and being bandaged by the doctor that Stang had somehow managed to get down here. “He’s in shock right now, but he’ll go crazy once it hits home that Eve is dead.” She moistened her lips. Joe wasn’t the only one who would go insane. She was barely holding herself together now. “Caleb said he was going to go talk to you. Did you see him?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t want to ask the question. Her glance shifted to the flames. The fire had spread, jumping from house to house. Soon, the entire town would be ablaze. The final death of a ghost town, she thought.

As if in response, she heard the mournful wail of a wolf somewhere in the foothills. Mourning the end of a town. Mourning the end of Eve …

She braced herself, then looked back at Venable. “What did you tell Caleb?”

“That I wouldn’t stage any attack without attempting to determine the location of the people in the house. Standard operating procedure. We had infrared scopes trained on the building.” He was standing very straight, looking her directly in the eye. “There were two people inside that saloon when it exploded.”

She couldn’t breathe. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

“Jane.” He stepped forward with hand outstretched. “I can’t tell—”

“Don’t touch me.” She jerked back from him. “I don’t want anyone to touch me.” No one but Eve. But Eve was somewhere in that hideous firestorm that was taking over the town.

Or maybe not. It could be that her Bonnie was beside her, taking away that horror.
I never believed that she came to you, Eve. I wish I could believe it now. God, I want to believe it.

But Joe believed that Bonnie was always with Eve. Maybe if Jane went to him, touched him, stayed with him, he would make her feel it, too.

She got to her feet. “You’ve told me what you had to say. I don’t want to talk to you any longer, Venable.”

“I realize we had a disagreement about the way to free Eve, but it wasn’t any of my men who set off that explosion. I want you to know that. It’s going down in my report as a probable murder-suicide.”

“Very tidy.” She shook her head. “But I’m wondering how anything as chaotic as what went on here could be that tidy. Are you covering your ass, Venable?”

“I’m just doing my job. It’s the truth and—”

“I don’t want to hear any more,” she interrupted. “Not now.” She started across the distance to Joe. “I’ve got to tell Joe what you just told me, and I’m not looking forward to it.”

Put one foot in front of the other. Look straight at Joe. He was staring at her. Did you see me talking to Venable? Are you hoping against hope?

There’s no hope, Joe.

Except perhaps the hope that there’s a little girl somewhere who will love and take care of our Eve when we cannot.

She reached Joe and sank down on the ground beside him. “Hi.” Hold on. Don’t cry. Then he’d feel as if he had to comfort her. She leaned against his shoulder, touching, trying to give warmth when there was no warmth. “I have something to tell you, Joe.”

*   *   *

“YOU TOLD HER?”

Venable turned to see Zander standing in the shadows behind him. “Hello, Zander. Why are you lurking around here? Doane is dead. Your hunt is over.”

“You told Jane MacGuire about the infrared?”

“Yes. How did you know about that?”

“I was up the mountain talking to your tech guy five minutes after the saloon blew. I had him show me the recording. I needed to know.”

“Because you had to confirm the kill?”

He smiled faintly. “Of course, why else? You know what a stickler I am.”

“But you’re still here.”

“Because I have a feeling things aren’t quite right. You’re not quite right, Venable.” He glanced at Jane and Joe Quinn. “And I’m … disturbed. So I believe I’ll stick around for a while.” His glance shifted to the burning wreckage of the town. “She managed to create quite a stir, didn’t she?”

“Eve?”

“Yes, who else is this about? She’s the one who appears to reach out and touch everyone. Even you, Venable. Which is why I’m surprised that you’d risk her like that.” He added softly, “Perhaps she even reached out and touched me the faintest bit because I find I’m angry that you’d do that to her.”

Venable stiffened warily. “Is that a threat?”

“I don’t threaten. You wouldn’t even see it coming.” Zander turned away. “But my curiosity is flaring as high as this bonfire of a town. You’ll have to satisfy it, Venable. Or I’ll do it myself.”

The next moment he had faded once more into the shadows.

*   *   *

THE WOLF WAS HOWLING
again.

Margaret lifted her head and looked away from the blazing fire to the foothills.

At first, she had thought that the cry sounded mournful, but that was not the case. There was distress and anger and something else in that lonely howl.

And why was the wolf sticking so close to this hellish firestorm? she wondered curiously.

She glanced at Jane, sitting with Joe and trying to hold away the horror that was already upon them. Jane did not need her right now. She probably wouldn’t even know that Margaret was gone.

The wolf howled again.

I’m coming. I’m not the one you want, but I have to know …

She started to walk toward the trees.

By the time she reached the foothills, she realized the wolf was a male, and he was not alone.

Careful. Go slowly. A wolf pack was very dangerous. She could sometimes reason or soothe a single wolf if he proved intelligent. She had also even dealt effectively with packs. But the pack mentality often overcame everything else … and left only carnage.

Where are you? I won’t hurt you. Let me come close, and I’ll show you.

She stopped, listening, reaching out.

The grove of white birch.

She could feel the tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingle and lift as she approached. She could see flashes of gray and white weaving among the trees. How many were there?

She didn’t want to know. Even three could bring you down and make a meal of you.

There were more than three.

She closed out all the wolves but the male who had been howling, calling. Kerak. Was that how he thought of himself? The impression was strong, but his mind was elusive … and very fierce.

But she was getting something else from him now.

Go away. He has to go away.

Not departure. Death. He was talking about death.

Not Margaret’s death. Even though she was an intruder.

He? Who had to die?
She formed a picture in her mind.
Doane?

A fierce explosion of hate that was completely uninterpretable.

And it was coming not only from the male, Kerak, but from all the wolves skulking in those trees.

She shivered and stopped in her tracks. Should she turn around and go back? This could be fatally stupid. Why was it so important to her? It had started as curiosity, but there was another element present now. She had never joined with any animal that had displayed this complex an emotional response.

And it had something to do with that explosion and fire in the valley.

She
had
to know what had triggered it.

She addressed Kerak directly.

I can’t be sure you’re not angry with me. Are you?

No answer.

Just that wild flow of hatred.

I’m coming into the grove, and I’m going to sit down. I’ll be very quiet, and I’ll let myself be open to you. Will you let yourself be open to me?

No answer.

She drew a deep breath and entered the birch grove.

I’m here. I’m not going to hurt you.

She sat down on the ground and crossed her legs.

She could hear a rustle in the shrubs, and out of the corner of her eye saw the soft flow of gray and white moving behind her, on either side of her, in front of her.

Green eyes glowing in the dimness.

She could feel her heart pounding. She could count at least six moving bodies encircling her in the trees.

Would they attack?

Too late to worry now. Open your mind. Let the male wolf
see.

She closed her eyes.

You see who I am. Now let me see who you are. Why were you watching that ghost town?

No answer.

Who has to die?

She heard a growl, and her eyes flew open.

A huge gray-and-white wolf was standing not ten feet in front of her.

White teeth gleaming, half-crouched.

Who has to die?
She gazed into those wild, green-amber eyes.
Tell me.

And she was suddenly bombarded, surrounded by a whirlwind of visions and impressions.

Rushing water.

Monsters.

Hunger.

A little red-haired girl, eyes wide with fear.

Burned forests.

Darkness
.

Silence.

Evil creeping on padded feet.

Death.

And in the midst of all that swirling chaos, the image of a red-haired little girl.

Margaret felt a surge of panic.

No, not the child! Don’t kill the child.

She pulled back and started to jump to her feet.

Growling all around her.

The smell of sweat and animal.

She froze as she realized that she was completely surrounded. The rest of the pack had shown itself.

White pointed teeth, bared and ready …

*   *   *

WOULD THE FIRE NEVER
go out? Jane wondered dully.

It had been hours since the blast, and the entire town was now engulfed in flames. She could see that Caleb and Trevor had joined Venable’s team, who were digging a trench around the town to prevent the fire from spreading to the forests. The water source in town was limited to nearby streams, and help from the nearest towns had not reached here yet. She wanted to shut her eyes and close it all out, but she couldn’t do it. It would be like closing Eve away from her since Eve was part of that fire. She supposed she should go look for Joe, but she would not be welcome. He had said he had to talk to Venable, to verify what she had told him. So she had stayed here, leaning against this tree, waiting for Joe, waiting for the fire to end.

Waiting.

“Jane.” It was Kendra, coming toward where Jane was sitting in the trees outside the town’s perimeter. “Good. You’re not asleep. I was afraid that Dr. Eland had given you a shot.”

“No, he tried to give one to Joe, but that wasn’t going to happen. It may be killing him, but Joe won’t run away from it.”

“And neither will you.” She fell to her knees beside her. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling, but I want to tell you that I’m sorry that—”

“Everyone is sorry,” Jane said. “I know that. I appreciate it. But I wish everyone would stop saying it. It won’t bring her back. It won’t stop the hurting.” She wearily shook her head. “Now I’m the one who is sorry, Kendra. You’re only being kind.”

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