Eve Quinn Bonnie Trilogy: 3 Book Bundle: Eve, Quinn, Bonnie (Eve Duncan)
معرفی کتاب «Eve Quinn Bonnie Trilogy: 3 Book Bundle: Eve, Quinn, Bonnie (Eve Duncan)» نوشتهٔ Johansen, Iris، منتشرشده توسط نشر Macmillan Digital در سال 2013. این کتاب در 977 صفحه، فرمت mobi، زبان انگلیسی ارائه شده است.
1
STOP ME. FIND ME. KILL ME.
Agony tore through him as John Gallo pushed through the brush, the branches scratching his face as he ran.
How long had he been on the run?
Hours? Days?
And why couldn’t he stop?
Why couldn’t he let the sheriff’s men find him, shoot him? He knew these woods so well that it was easy to avoid capture. Whenever they had come near, instinct and self-preservation had kicked into high gear, and he had fled.
And those instincts were so good, he thought bitterly. They had been honed by all the battles, all the killings, all the ugliness of his life. Save yourself so that you can kill again.
But at least he had not stayed to kill his hunters. That was part of the reason why he had not exposed himself. He couldn’t trust himself not to kill them. He was too well trained, too expert in the ways of destruction.
And then there was the madness.
There was no telling where that sickness would take him.
He was climbing, he realized. He was climbing the high hill where he’d done his last kill.
Paul Black. He’d broken his neck.
And Joe Quinn. If he was dead, that, too, could be laid at his door.
He broke free of the shrubs and trees and was standing on the edge of the cliff over the lake.
What was he doing there?
One step, and he would plunge over the precipice.
Why not?
Maybe that damnable instinct would not kick in when he hit the lake below.
“It will, you know.”
He stiffened, afraid to turn around to see who had spoken.
Madness. It was back, taunting him, torturing him.
“Look at me.”
He slowly looked over his shoulder.
A little seven-year-old girl, with curly red-brown hair wearing a Bugs Bunny T-shirt.
The same T-shirt she had worn the day she had died.
The day he might have killed her.
The agony was overwhelming, searing through him, blocking everything but the sight of her and his own guilt.
His daughter, Bonnie ...
Milwaukee Airport Milwaukee, Wisconsin
“YOU’RE JANE MACGUIRE?”
Jane turned away from the baggage claim carousel to see the woman who had spoken walking toward her. It had to be Catherine Ling, she thought. Her adoptive mother, Eve, had described the CIA agent in detail, but the reality was even more stunning. Catherine Ling was part Asian, part Caucasian, and more exotic and magnetic than any woman Jane had seen except on the movie screen. She appeared be in her late twenties, tall, graceful, with high cheekbones, huge dark eyes slightly tilted at the corners, olive-gold skin, long dark hair pulled back in a chignon. But it was the aura of power and vitality that surrounded her that was the most impressive. As an artist, Jane’s first impulse was to ask her to pose for her. The second was to squeeze every bit of information she could from her. “I’m Jane. You’re Catherine Ling? How is Joe?”
“Is that your bag?” Catherine lifted Jane’s suitcase off the carousel with easy strength. “Joe was no better when I left the hospital. But as far as I know, he’s no worse. Eve doesn’t want to leave him, so she asked me to pick you up. I’ve made reservations for you at a Hyatt near the hospital. We’ll check you in, then I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Jane shook her head. “To hell with that. I’m going to the hospital to be with Eve. I should have been with her ever since Joe was admitted. It’s been almost two days. Why the hell didn’t she call me before this?”
“You were in London, and there wasn’t much you could do. Joe was in surgery for a long time. Eve said she didn’t want to talk to you until she could give you good news.” She headed toward the exit. “That didn’t happen, so she called you anyway. She thought you should be here.”
Jane nodded jerkily. “That’s what she said. She was so upset that she didn’t realize how that sounded. I felt like I was flying to a deathbed.” She took her suitcase from Catherine. “She didn’t even tell me what happened with Joe, only about his wound. A knife thrust to the back that did serious organ damage.” Her lips tightened. “A knife. Whose knife? I don’t want to stress Eve out by asking questions. That means you’re on the hot seat, Catherine. I want to know everything before I walk into that hospital.”
Catherine nodded. “I thought that would be my job.” She stopped before a silver Toyota. “Get in. I’ll fill you in while I drive you to the hospital.” She slipped into the driver’s seat. “But I’m going to go through a drive-through McDonald’s and get you a cup of coffee.”
“You think I’ll need the caffeine to get through this?”
Catherine gave her an appraising glance as she started the car. “I think you’re probably a cool customer. But you love Eve and Joe. They raised you from the time you were ten. You have a right to be upset and need a little bolstering.” She pulled out of the airport parking lot. “And if you don’t, I do. You’re going to be pissed at me.”
“Am I?” Jane stiffened. “Why?”
“I’m partly the reason Joe was hurt.”
“Then yes, I’ll be pissed at you. I’ll want to break your neck. Is Eve angry with you?”
“No, she says no one could have stopped Joe.”
Jane slowly nodded. “She’s right. No one could ever stop Joe from doing what he wanted to do. I knew that the first time I saw him. But it relieved me. I knew if Joe ever became my friend, it wouldn’t be because Eve wanted him to do it. It would be because he wanted it himself. That was important to me. I was a ten-year-old Eve had picked up from the streets because we’d known the moment we’d come together that it was right we stay together. But Joe was a big part of her life even then. I didn’t want to have to walk away.”
“And you didn’t have to do it,” Catherine said. “You became a family.” She smiled faintly. “A very strange family. Eve Duncan, a famous forensic sculptor, Joe Quinn, a police detective, and you, a kid from the streets.”
“We learned to mesh,” Jane said. “Eve was no problem. Joe was slower. But we both loved Eve, so we worked at it.” She smiled. “And then as we got to know each other, it wasn’t work any longer. Funny how love makes everything easier.”
“Yeah, funny.” Catherine pulled into the McDonald’s drive-through. “Do you want anything besides coffee?”
“No.”
“Black?”
“Yes.”
She studied Catherine as she gave the coffee order. How much love had Catherine had in her life, she wondered. Eve had told her she’d been a street kid like Jane but had grown up in Hong Kong. She’d married a much older man, then been widowed. She had come into Eve’s life when she’d asked Eve to help her find her son, who had been kidnapped by a Russian criminal wanting revenge on Catherine. Eve had helped her rescue him, and they had become close friends. There was no doubt in Eve’s mind that Catherine adored her son, Luke. But Jane had gotten the impression that, other than Luke, Catherine’s life had been her job as a CIA agent.
“You’re looking at me as if you’re trying to take me apart.” Catherine’s look was quizzical as she handed Jane her coffee. “Is it your artist’s eye, or are you taking aim?”
“Maybe a little of both.” Jane met her gaze. “I admit the first thing I thought when I saw you was that I’d like to paint you. But you’ll definitely be on my list for extermination if you had anything to do with Joe lying in that hospital. Tell me what happened to him.” She looked away, and added, “Let me start you on the path. It was about Bonnie, wasn’t it?”
Catherine nodded. “It’s not surprising that was your first guess. I imagine you’ve lived with Eve’s obsession for finding Bonnie since you came to her.”
“Guess?” Jane took a drink of her coffee. “Finding her daughter’s murderer and her daughter’s body has guided her life. It’s guided all our lives. She’s tried for many, many years to bring her Bonnie home.” She looked out the window at the passing scene. “And Joe’s been with her, trying desperately to understand, to help, to find Bonnie, so that Eve could be at peace. I can’t tell you how many times she’s come to what she thought was that final resolution and been disappointed. But she never gives up.”
Catherine added quietly, “And Joe was getting tired, weary of worrying about her, wanting her to come to terms.”
Jane looked back at her. “Yes, how do you know? Joe wouldn’t complain.”
“Joe and I are a lot alike,” Catherine said. “And I had to examine all facets of Eve’s problem before I made a move to ask her to help me find my son, Luke. I didn’t want to make a mistake.”
“Mistake?”
“I promised her I’d pay her back for helping return my son to me,” Catherine said. “She wouldn’t accept anything, but I couldn’t let it go. I knew the only gift she would think worthwhile would be for me to find her daughter’s killer.” Her lips twisted. “So that was what I had to give her. Whether or not it might destroy the life she had with Joe.”
“You found him?” Jane’s eyes widened. “You actually found Bonnie’s killer?”
“I found two possibilities. Paul Black, who was already on Eve’s search list.”
“She told me about him.”
“But I was betting on a new stallion in the race. One that would be much more troublesome. Naturally, I had to pull him front and center.”
“Who?”
Catherine’s eyes were fixed on the towers of St. Joseph’s Hospital, which had come into view. “John Gallo. He was Bonnie’s father.”
Jane stiffened. “What? But Eve told me he was dead.”
Catherine shook her head. “A cover-up by the military. Eve will explain everything later. I’m just giving you the bare bones. But there was evidence Gallo was in Atlanta the month Bonnie was kidnapped. So I gave Eve all my information and threw in my opinion.”
“And she went after John Gallo,” Jane whispered.
“And Paul Black,” Catherine said. “But she felt terribly guilty about risking Joe again. So she tried to leave him out of it.”
“She should have known that wouldn’t work,” Jane said. She knew how guilty Eve felt about involving Joe, but she could no more stop hunting for Bonnie’s killer than Joe could abandon Eve and stop protecting her. Both were facts of life. “Gallo hurt Joe?”
Catherine shook her head. “Paul Black. And Gallo killed Black.”
“Good.”
“Not so good. Before he died, Black told Eve that Gallo had killed Bonnie.”
“And she actually believed the bastard?”
“She told me that she would swear Black was telling the truth. And Gallo took off and disappeared. Neither the police nor I have been able to find him.”
“But what would make him kill his own little girl?”
“He was suffering from bouts of schizophrenia and violent delusions caused by years of mistreatment in a prison in North Korea.”
“My God.” Jane shook her head. “That must have been a terrible nightmare for Eve. How can you imagine a man who gave you a child could kill it?”
Catherine’s lips tightened. “Well, I handed Gallo to her and made her imagine it.” She pulled into a parking spot in the lot of St. Joseph’s Hospital. “And then I helped Joe try to find him whether Eve wanted him along or not.” She turned off the ignition. “Are you still blaming Joe and not me?”
Jane gazed at her a moment. “You’re blaming yourself enough. You don’t need any help.” She got out of the car. “Where can I find her?”
“ICU. The visiting hours are very short, but Eve can watch him through the glass. If she’s not in the waiting room, she’ll probably be in the hall at ICU.”
“Are you coming with me?”
Catherine shook her head. “Eve needs family. I’ll check you in at the Hyatt and take your suitcase up to your room. Give me a call when you’re ready to leave the hospital.”
“Thanks.” Jane turned to walk away.
“How did you feel about Bonnie?” Catherine asked suddenly. “I know it’s none of my business, but I’m curious. You said that the search for her killer ruled your lives. That must have been difficult for an adopted kid to accept.”
Jane shook her head. “I knew what was important to Eve when I came to her. I wasn’t her child, I was her friend. That was enough for me. How could I ask for more?”
“Some kids would have been more demanding.”
Jane lifted her brows. “You?”
Catherine shook her head. “But then I probably wouldn’t have accepted any relationship when I was your age. I was an independent young demon. I suppose I still am.”
“Eve is always the exception,” Jane said. “You obviously have a close relationship with her now.”
Catherine smiled as she started to back out of the parking place. “You’re right. You and I are more alike than I would have believed. Eve is the sun we all revolve around.”
Jane watched her drive out of the parking lot before she started to walk across the parking lot toward the front entrance. She could feel the tension increase with every step. She was going to Joe, who might well be dying. She was going to Eve, who could lose the man who made her life worth living.
How did she feel about the search for Bonnie? Jane had said all the right things, and they had all been true. What she hadn’t told Catherine was the agony she felt when Eve and Joe were put in danger by that search. She could accept it. But she couldn’t stop wishing that the search would end.
And she couldn’t stop wishing that Eve would release Bonnie.
Or, dear God, that Bonnie would release Eve.
* * *
EVE WALKED SLOWLY DOWN the corridor toward the ICU.
Soon she would be able to see Joe again. He’d be pale and drawn, his features appearing as cleanly carved and beautiful as the visage on a tomb. It would scare her to death as it always did.
But it scared her more not to see him and to imagine him slipping away with her not by his side.
That was where she should always be. Next to Joe.
If God would let him stay with her. And if Joe still wanted her if he did come back. The memory of that last day at the lake house was suddenly before her. His eyes looking down at her as she sat in the swing.
“I can’t be easy. It’s not my nature. But it’s my nature to love you.”
And it was her nature to love Joe.
Please be better, Joe. Be awake. At least, have more color.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Duncan.” The ICU nurse was coming out of the unit. “May I get you anything?”
“Yes, permission to go sit with him.”
She shook her head. “Not yet.” She hesitated. “But the doctor said that maybe we should let you go to him soon.”
She stiffened, her heart leaping. “He’s better.”
The nurse shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said quickly. “Dr. Jarlin will talk to you.”
Fear surged through her. “You talk to me, dammit. He’s worse?”
The nurse was looking at Eve with that same sympathy and kindness that had struck terror in her heart since she’d brought Joe to the hospital. “Dr. Jarlin will talk to you. I’ll call him and tell him that you’re concerned.” She hurried back toward the nurses’ station.
Concerned? She was sick with fear.
Joe was dying, and they weren’t going to be able to save him. That was why they were going to let Eve go to him. To say good-bye.
She couldn’t say good-bye. He had to stay with her.
She leaned her head on the plate-glass window and closed her eyes. She felt the tears running down her cheeks as the agony flowed through her.
Look at him. Surely she’d be able to know, to sense some change. Maybe they were wrong. Doctors didn’t know everything.
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She stiffened in shock.
Bonnie.
Through the years she had often had visions and dreams of her daughter. Then she had come to believe they weren’t visions at all. It didn’t matter. Real or not, having Bonnie come to her had made life worth living and let her come alive in so many ways.
But now something was different.
Bonnie, in her Bugs Bunny T-shirt, her red-brown hair shining in the lights of the ICU, as she stood by Joe’s bed, looking down at him.
Her expression ... Love. Perfect love.
Why was she here?
The fear became terror.
To take him away, to ease the transition from this life to the next?
“No, Bonnie!”
Her daughter looked across the room at Eve standing behind the glass.
She smiled luminously. But then turned back again to gaze down at Joe with that same expression of love.
What did that smile mean? Could she help him to live?
Or could she only help him to die?
Eve’s palms pressed against the cold glass as tension and sorrow tore through her.
“Joe!”
* * *
SWIRLING darkness.
Someone calling.
“Joe!”
Calling him ...
But he didn’t want to leave the darkness. There was comfort here and yet also a strange excitement and anticipation.
Was this death?
He had never been afraid of it. He wasn’t now.
But that voice calling ...
Eve.
She was hurting, needing him. He should go back.
And there was someone else ...
Bonnie.
She was there in the darkness. Always before she had been the stranger, the one apart; but now she was close, as familiar to him as Eve, and much of the comfort was coming from her. Did she want him to stay in the darkness?
But he could feel Eve’s terror and sadness.
He had to stop them both and try to make Eve happy.
As she made him happy ...
He had known from the first moment he had seen her all those years ago that he could not be happy if he was not with her.
Strange... He had not believed that love could come out of nowhere and stay forever. He had been such a cynical son of a bitch. Smart, young FBI agent, sure of himself and everything around him, ready to take on the world.
He’d been certain the Bonnie Duncan kidnapping wasn’t going to be a problem. The local Atlanta police were sure that she was the victim of a serial killer, and the little girl would never show up alive. Sad story, but Joe had worked on other serial killings and had experience in profiling as well. He was well qualified to take on the case. He’d go down to Atlanta and dive in and show the locals how the FBI could handle a case like Bonnie’s.
But he wouldn’t get involved with the family of the victim no matter how sympathetic he was toward them. That was always a mistake. It was better to stand apart so that he could work without emotion. That would be far more efficient.
Yes, after all, it was just one more case. A few months in Atlanta, and he’d be coming back to start another job. There was nothing about this Duncan case in Atlanta to interfere with his career, certainly nothing to interfere with his life ...
Copyright © 2011 by Johansen Publishing LLLP
Continues...
Excerpted from Quinn by Iris Johansen Copyright © 2011 by Iris Johansen. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Malua, Samoa
Present Day
TWO MINUTES.
The explosive was in place beneath the back veranda of the house. The charge set.
Agent Art Benkman slid behind the garden wall that surrounded the pool and house and waited.
No mistakes this time. His superior wouldn't tolerate another near miss. It had been made clear that Black must be destroyed. He was a monster who knew too much.
No, he'd seen Paul Black go into the house an hour ago. It was the best time for the kill. Only one person in the house beside that son of a bitch. A housekeeper who occupied the end bedroom of the rambling bungalow. He'd seen her light go out two hours ago. She'd be asleep by now.
Good night.
And good-bye.
No one would survive this blast. He'd had to be sure.
One minute.
The flames from the blast would probably reach the top of those palm trees hovering over the roof.
"I've got you, Black," he murmured. "Burn in--"
Pain.
He was flipped over and was looking up at the man who had sent the needle- sharp stiletto deep into his back.
Black. But it couldn't be Paul Black. He was in the house.
No, he was here. That dark, devil's face . . .
"Who sent you?" Black asked. "Who told you I was here?" He was searching in Benkman's pockets, pulling out his wallet, and the e-mail that he'd received two days ago. He glanced at it and smiled. "Very explicit. And you obeyed blindly like a good agent? Never mind. You don't have to answer. I don't need you now."
"Kill you . . ." Benkman whispered. "I have to--"
"Die," Black supplied as he picked up Benkman as if he were a child. "That's all you have to do." He was carrying him over to the house. "How do you feel about cremation?"
"No!" He started to struggle as panic overcame pain. "Don't leave me here. It's going to--"
"Blow?" Black dropped him on the floor of the great room. "In about forty seconds." He looked down at him. "Why don't you see if you can make it through the French doors and out onto the terrace? You might survive then." He turned and strolled out of the house.
Bastard.
Benkman rolled over and started to crawl toward the French doors.
Pain.
The blood was pouring out of the wound as he moved.
Weak.
The blood was slippery . . .
He was dying.
No, he'd be okay. He was always okay. He just had to get out of this damn house.
So slow. He was moving so slow.
He reached the French doors. Now crawl out onto the veranda. He was almost there . . .
And then he saw Black standing by the garden wall and watching him. He was smiling.
He tapped his watch.
Too late, Benkman realized frantically. He was too late. Time had run out.
"Don't leave me!" he howled. "Get me out of--"
The house exploded and became an inferno.
"HERE'S THE REPORT, SIR. Shall I call Atlanta and give it to her?"
Venable scowled as he looked down at the report that Agent David Harley had put in front of him. This inquiry was shaping up to be a king- size headache. Why had he become involved in this mess?
He knew the answer. He liked Joe Quinn and Eve Duncan, and they had helped the CIA on many occasions. When Catherine Ling had asked him to pull strings and get this report concerning the death of Eve's daughter, he'd thought it might be a way to pay back.
He wasn't sure that would be true any longer. Eve Duncan was very fragile where anything connected to her murdered daughter, Bonnie, was concerned.
"Is anything wrong?" Agent Harley asked. "I used three sources. It all checked out. And Catherine Ling is usually very accurate."
And Harley would be careful, Venable thought. He was new, but he was eager and conscientious.
"No, I'm sure you verified it correctly." He shrugged. "I can just see a blowup looming on the horizon."
"But Catherine Ling's e-mail said that--"
"I know." Venable held up his hand to stop him. Harley had met Catherine Ling only once, but he had been dazzled by her. Most men had the same response to Catherine. She was not only a top CIA agent, but she was part Caucasian, part Asian, and was one of the most gorgeous and exotic women Venable had ever met. "Catherine may be accurate, but that doesn't mean she might not trigger an explosion. She's ramming her way through every source I have to get that information, and she's not going to stop."
"Eve Duncan," Harley repeated tentatively, glancing at the report. "I've heard of her. I saw some photos. Skulls and stuff. She's a forensic sculptor, isn't she?"
"Have a little respect. She's the forensic sculptor," Venable said. "She's probably the best forensic sculptor in the world. Every police department in country is standing in line to get her to work on their cold cases involving skeletal remains. Totally dedicated."
"Not totally." Harley smiled. "I read that report. She's been living with her lover police detective, Joe Quinn, for a number of years. In real life, she obviously prefers a warm body to those skeletons."
"He's a good guy," Venable said. "And tough as hell. He's an ex- SEAL. As I said, have a little respect, or you might regret it. He's been with Eve since her daughter Bonnie was kidnapped by a serial killer years ago. The kid was only seven years old, and it nearly destroyed Eve."
"I can see how it might be traumatic. Was she murdered?"
"Almost certainly. Though Bonnie's body was never recovered and the real killer never arrested. That's why Eve went back to school to become a forensic sculptor, to help bring other lost children home. But Eve's been on the hunt for Bonnie's killer all these years."
"My wife's pregnant and should be delivering my son any day," Harley said. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him."
"Go on the hunt," Venable said. "As Eve Duncan is doing. As Joe Quinn is doing."
"What about you, Agent Venable? Do you have any children?"
Venable shook his head. "Divorced. No kids. I have a job. A family would get in the way." He tapped the report. "And Eve Duncan is a prime example of why I should stay that way. Finding her daughter's killer has become an obsession that's dominating everything and everyone around her. Including me." He swore beneath his breath. "Catherine Ling should have stayed out of it. But no, she thinks that she can straighten out the entire world if she puts her mind to it."
"She's very clever," Harley said. "It could happen, sir."
"Are we expecting any more info?"
Harley shook his head. "Those are the only sources you asked me to tap."
And the sources Catherine Ling had asked Venable to tap. She had known exactly what she'd wanted. He'd asked her to wait for these reports before she went to Eve Duncan with the information, but he couldn't be sure that she'd do it. Catherine marched to her own drummer and had been so on edge that she'd wanted to get the confrontation over. That was always Catherine's way. Bold, up-front, on the attack.
That had been Eve's method of handling problems, too. It was one reason why the two women had become close friends.
"I'll be glad to call Agent Ling and give her the information on this report for you," Harley offered.
"I bet you would," Venable murmured. "But I think I'd better handle this myself. You can't expect a straightforward response from Catherine on this particular matter."
"It seems pretty cut-and-dried to me."
"Does it?" He was tempted to let Harley contact Catherine and have her interrogate him. If he thought she would become his new best friend, he was going to be sadly disappointed. She was going to want every detail so that she could mull the pros and cons, and she would be firing questions like a machine gun. It wasn't often that Catherine formed a friendship for anyone, but she genuinely liked Eve Duncan, and she wanted every detail to be absolutely correct. "No, I'll talk to her."
Harley looked disappointed, but he shrugged and left the office.
All right, Catherine. Venable took out his phone. Here's your ammunition to blow Eve out of the water. You may mean well, but it could go either way. I hope to hell both you and Eve manage to survive it.
There was something wrong with Eve.
Joe Quinn had glanced casually up to the porch from where he was standing at the barbecue grill near the lake. Eve had been sitting on the porch swing, but was now standing beside Catherine Ling, and Joe could tell that every muscle of her body was taut with tension.
What the hell?
Maybe he was mistaken. The sun was going down, and it was almost dark. Perhaps those nuances of unrest he thought he was seeing weren't really there. Catherine Ling had become a good friend
to Eve, and there was no way that she would deliberately upset her. Dammit, he wasn't mistaken. He had lived with Eve so long that he knew every mood, every flex of her body as if it were his own. Whatever Catherine was saying to Eve, it was disturbing her. He'd better go up to the porch and--" His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the ID. Venable. CIA. Joe was tempted to let it go to voice mail and call back later. No,Catherine Ling was also CIA. Joe had an idea it might be a good idea to take the call before he barged up those stairs in protective mode.
"What do you want, Venable?" he asked as he pressed the button. "Is Catherine Ling there? She's not answering her phone."
"She's here. She's been here all afternoon. Maybe she doesn't want to talk to you. The jobs you send Catherine on aren't always pleasant. It could be that she wants a vacation."
"Catherine?" He added testily, "I told her to take a vacation after Russia, but she dove right into this inquiry and pulled me in with her."
"What investigation?"
"Just an inquiry. Tell Catherine I need her to call me. I have the final report."
"Venable, what's this all about?"
"Ask Catherine. I'm supposed to be discreet. You'd think that she was my superior." He hung up.
Joe gazed up at the porch. It was fully dark, and they hadn't turned on the porch light. He could barely discern the two women standing by the rail. But what he couldn't see, he could feel. His instincts toward Eve had been honed to sharpness, and he could sense the emotional disturbance that was swirling about her.
Ask Catherine.
There was no doubt that he'd ask Catherine. He didn't like any of this. He felt closed out.
He started toward the porch, then stopped.
What could he do? His instinct was to join them, become part of whatever was going on between them. But Eve wouldn't appreciate his interfering. She was an independent woman. It wasn't as if Catherine was a threat. She was Eve's friend.
But even a friend could become a threat if circumstances warranted.
Not Catherine. He trusted Catherine.
He slowly turned and went back to the barbecue pit.
Keep cool. Eve would tell him what was going on eventually.
Ignore that uneasiness.
Until he couldn't stand it any longer.
Eve asked Catherine, "But why not leave in the morning?"
". . . I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I have to. You've done enough for me, Eve." Catherine's gaze was on Joe standing below them at the barbecue pit. "We've done nothing but talk about my problems. Let's talk about you and Joe. Is everything all right between you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I just thought I caught some vibes from him today." Her gaze was still on Joe. "You're very lucky, you know. He's pretty fantastic."
"Yes, he is." Eve added, "And I know you think he's special.
You've told me."
"Yes, I've always been honest with you." She paused. "I always will be." She turned to face her. "I'm no threat to you, Eve."
"You could be if you wanted to be. You're an incredibly magnetic woman, Catherine." She gazed steadily at her. "But in the end, the threat would come only from Joe. He's the only one who can hurt me."
"I'd never hurt you." Catherine's voice was passionate. "I've never had a friend like you before. At first, I was only concerned about what you could do for me, but that changed. You changed my life. I felt . . . close to you."
"And I feel close to you." Eve smiled. "So stop agonizing about it, Catherine."
"I don't want to hurt you."
Eve's smile faded. "Are we still talking about Joe?"
"No. Yes. I guess in a way we are."
"Speak up. It's not like you to be inarticulate."
Catherine turned back to look down at Joe. "Did you finish the reconstruction on Cindy?"
Cindy was the reconstruction that Eve had been working on weeks ago before she had gone to Russia at Catherine's request. It had been very difficult, and Catherine had been a great help. "Of course, she was done a week after I came home from Russia. It wasn't that difficult." She smiled. "Not after I had a little help from my friends during the initial prep work."
"Was she a pretty little girl?"
"Yes."
"Like your Bonnie?"
A tiny disturbance rippled through Eve. She didn't look at all like Bonnie. "Why are you talking about Bonnie, Catherine?"
"Because I think Joe is jealous of your obsession with Bonnie. Not of your daughter. Just of your feelings for her. He'd have to be a saint not to feel a little put in the shade by the way you feel. Isn't that true?"
She didn't speak for a moment. "Yes. But friend or not, I don't want to discuss this with you, Catherine."
"I have to discuss it with you. Do you think I want to do it? I was even thinking of walking away and forgetting about it. But I can't do that, Eve."
Eve frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You and Joe have a giant problem, and I don't want to make it any bigger."
"How could you do that?"
"Easily." Her lips twisted. "I'm good at what I do. I'm an expert. I just set my mind to it and cause the sky to fall."
Eve slowly rose from the swing and went to stand beside Catherine. "Talk to me."
Catherine looked away from her again. "I told you I'd pay you back, remember? I was so grateful I wanted to give you what you wanted most in the world."
Eve gazed at her with exasperation. No matter how she tried, she couldn't convince Catherine to accept what Eve had done as a gesture of friendship and let it go. Catherine had come to her to ask her to do an age progression on her son Luke, who had been kidnapped when he was two and had been missing for nine years. Eve had been inevitably drawn into the search for Luke that had culminated in a deadly race to save him from his kidnapper in Russia. "And I told you to forget it."
"That's not in my makeup." She was silent for a minute. "What you want most in the world is to bring your Bonnie home. To do that you have to find her killer. When I came home from Hong Kong, I had lots of time to concentrate on thinking about your problem. I tried to look at the crime from an objective and fresh point of view. Then I started to dig. I used every contact and information- gathering unit I had at my disposal and at Venable's disposal. We even tapped the NSA."
Eve could feel her chest tightening. Don't hope. The search had gone on too long for Catherine to just step in and perform a miracle. "Joe was FBI at the time Bonnie was taken. We didn't exactly stop at local law enforcement."
"But all the information wasn't available then."
"I know that. My friend, Montalvo, has recently given me a list of three new suspects. Two didn't pan out, but I still have the third one to investigate. Paul Black. Is that the name you ran across?"
"His name popped up."
Eve's gaze narrowed on Catherine's face. "But?"
"I was more interested in someone else."
"Who?"
"He had opportunity. He might have had motive." She was speaking quickly, tersely. "In this type of crime, there's ample precedent for this kind of perpetrator."
"Dammit. Why are you being so evasive?"
"Joe. I can see you have to walk very carefully where he's concerned. He's very emotional about your obsession with Bonnie. He's nuts about you." Her hands tightened on the porch rail. "And he doesn't need to come face-to-face with this to tear him apart. Hell, it might tear you both apart."
"Catherine."
"Okay." She drew a deep breath. "Joe has been thinking about you as being totally his own since the moment you met. It's been the saving grace when he had to come to terms with your obsession with Bonnie. It would disturb the hell out of him to lose that security."
"There's no way he would lose it."
"No? You're very cool, very controlled, but it wasn't like that always. There was a time when you lost your head and spun out of control over a man."
Eve was beginning to see where Catherine was going. No, it couldn't be. It was impossible. She asked hoarsely, "Catherine, who killed my Bonnie?"
"I didn't say I was certain."
Eve was shaking. "Tell me. Tell me the name."
"You want a name?" Catherine drew a deep breath. "The name you didn't even see fit to put on the birth certificate, Eve," she said gently. "Bonnie's father, John Gallo."
Eve had been expecting it, but the name struck her, stunned her. She couldn't breathe. She could barely speak, "No . . . it's not true. You don't understand. It's not true."
But if Catherine thought it true, then somehow it might be.
No, it was impossible.
"Eve, I wouldn't have just pulled his name--"
"No!" She had to get out of here. She had to be alone. She whirled and was across the porch, fumbling at the screen door. "You're wrong, Catherine. You couldn't be more wrong. It's not--" She slammed the door behind her and leaned back against it, staring into the darkness.
Cool and controlled, Catherine had called her. Where was that coolness now? She felt as vulnerable and emotional as she had when she was that sixteen-year-old kid who had given birth to Bonnie. So angry, so defiant, so passionate. John Gallo. Catherine's words had sent her spiraling back to that sixteen-year- old girl. Back to John Gallo . . .
Continues...
Excerpted from Eve by Iris Johansen Copyright © 2011 by Iris Johansen. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site. CHAPTER
1
Atlanta, Georgia
The Past
“WHAT STAR IS THAT, MAMA?” Bonnie lifted her hand to point at a brilliant orb in the night sky. “It’s shining so bright.”
“That’s not a star, it’s a planet. It’s Venus.” She cuddled her daughter closer on her lap. “I’ve told you about Venus, Bonnie.”
“I guess I forgot.” She leaned back against Eve’s shoulder in the big rattan chair. “Or maybe it’s because everything seems so ... different tonight.”
“Different? We sit out here on the porch almost every night, baby.” It was a precious time for both of them. After supper, they came out on the front porch and looked at the night sky. Eve had even bought a book on astronomy so that she could point out the constellations to Bonnie. “What’s different?”
“I don’t know.” Bonnie’s gaze never left the glittering night sky. “They just seem ... closer. As if I could reach out and touch them. As if they want me to come and touch them.”
Eve chuckled and gave her a hug. “Maybe that’s what you should do when you grow up. Would you like to be an astronaut and go from planet to planet?”
Bonnie giggled. “That might be fun. Like Star Trek. But I don’t have ears like Mr. Spock.”
“It could still work.” She smiled as she leaned her head back and gazed up at the sky. “But those stars are very far away, and you don’t know what you’ll find there. Would you be afraid, baby?”
Bonnie was silent, her eyes fixed on the stars.
“Bonnie?”
“I won’t be afraid, Mama.” She turned her head and looked Eve directly in the eye. “And don’t you be afraid either. I’ll be fine.”
Eve’s smile faded. There was something in Bonnie’s expression that was making her uneasy. In that instant, she didn’t look like her seven-year-old little girl any longer. Bonnie’s expression was serene, oddly adult.
Nonsense. It had to be imagination. “I won’t.” Eve gave Bonnie a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Because I think we’ll keep you here on Earth. No skipping from planet to planet. Your grandma and I would miss you too much.” She tugged at Bonnie’s ear. “And you’re right, your ears don’t look at all like Spock’s.” She hugged her again. “And now it’s time for your bath. Didn’t you tell me that your school picnic is tomorrow? Run in to Grandma and have her start your bath, and you decide what to wear.”
“Just one more minute.” Bonnie put her head back on Eve’s shoulder. “I don’t want to leave you yet.”
Eve didn’t want to leave Bonnie either. That instant of uneasiness was still with her. Why not stay here until it faded away. “One minute. You’re not the only one who has school tomorrow. I have to study for my English Lit test when you go in for your bath.”
“But tonight is special, tonight is ... different,” she whispered. “Don’t you feel it?”
Every day, every minute, was special with Bonnie. From the moment Eve had given birth to her, she had been the center of her world. But maybe there was something strange and beautiful about their closeness tonight. Something that Eve didn’t want to give up until she had to do it. The thought brought an odd sense of panic. “I feel it.” Her arms tightened around Bonnie’s small body. “Yes, I feel it, baby.”
* * *
BONNIE CAME RUNNING into Eve’s bedroom in her yellow pajamas with the orange clowns all over them. Her wild red curls were bouncing, and her face was lit with her luminous smile.
“Mama, Lindsey says her mother is going to let her wear her Goofy T-shirt to the park tomorrow for the school picnic. Can I wear my Bugs Bunny T-shirt?”
Eve looked up from her English Lit book open on the desk in front of her. “It’s not can, it’s may, baby. And you may wear Bugs tomorrow.” She smiled. “We wouldn’t want Lindsey to put you in the shade.”
“I wouldn’t care. She’s my friend. You said we always had to want the best for our friends.”
“Yes, we do. Now run along to bed.”
Bonnie didn’t move. “I know you’re studying for your test, but could you read me a story?” She added coaxingly, “I thought maybe a very, very short one?”
“Your grandmother loves to read you stories, baby.”
Bonnie came closer, and whispered, “I love Grandma. But it’s always special when you read it to me. Just a short one...”
Eve glanced at her Lit book. She’d be up until after midnight as it was, studying for that exam. She looked at Bonnie’s pleading face. Oh, to hell with it. Bonnie was the reason Eve was working for her degree anyway. She was the reason for every action Eve took in life. Why cheat either one of them? “Run and choose a storybook.” She pushed her textbook aside and stood up. “And it doesn’t have to be a short one.”
Bonnie’s expression could have lit up Times Square. “No. I promise....” She ran out of the room. She was back in seconds with a Dr. Seuss book. “This will be quick, and I like the rhymes.”
Eve sat down in the blue-padded rocking chair that she’d used since Bonnie was a newborn. “Climb up. I like Dr. Seuss, too.”
“I know you do.” Bonnie scrambled up in her lap and cuddled close. “But since it’s such a short book, can—may I have my song, too?”
“I think that’s a reasonable request,” Eve said solemnly. The two of them had their little traditions, and every night since she was a toddler, Bonnie had loved to share a song with Eve. Eve would sing the first line, and Bonnie would sing the next. “What’s it to be tonight?”
“‘All the Pretty Little Horses.’” She turned around on Eve’s lap and hugged her with all her might. “I love you, Mama.”
Eve’s arms closed around her. Bonnie’s riot of curls was soft and fragrant against her cheek, and her small body was endearingly vital and sturdy against Eve. Lord, she was lucky. “I love you, too, Bonnie.”
Bonnie let her go and flopped back around to cuddle in the curve of her arm. “You start, Mama.”
“Hushabye, don’t you cry,” Eve sang softly.
Bonnie’s thin little voice chimed. “Go to sleep, little baby.”
The moment was so precious, so dear. Eve’s arms held Bonnie closer, and she could feel the tightening of her throat as she sang, “When you wake, you shall have cake.”
Bonnie’s voice was only a wisp of sound. “And all the pretty little horses...”
* * *
SHE SHOULD GET BACK to her studies, Eve thought.
Not yet. She couldn’t pull herself away yet. Bonnie had been so loving tonight. She had seemed to be reaching out for Eve.
She stood looking down at Bonnie curled up asleep in her bed. She looked so small, she thought with aching tenderness. Bonnie was seven, yet she looked younger.
But sometimes she seemed to have a wisdom far beyond her years. She had always been a special child from the moment Eve had given birth to her. Bonnie was illegitimate, born when Eve was only sixteen. Her passionate affair with John Gallo had lasted only four weeks but had given her Bonnie.
And she had thought that she might give her up for adoption, Eve remembered wonderingly. Gazing down at her daughter it seemed impossible to even contemplate. From the moment she had seen her in the hospital, she had known that they had to be together forever.
Forever.
Those teasing words they’d spoken on the porch had only underscored the fact that Bonnie would be growing up and leaving her someday.
Pain.
She didn’t have to think of that yet. Bonnie was still her baby, and she would have her for years to come. Until then, she would cherish every moment as she had done tonight.
She bent down and brushed her lips on Bonnie’s silky cheek. “Sleep well, baby,” she whispered. “May all your dreams be beautiful.”
“Dreams...” Bonnie’s lids lifted drowsily. “Dreams are so wonderful, Mama. You can reach out and touch...” She was asleep again.
Eve turned, and the next moment, she was silently closing the door to Bonnie’s room behind her.
“She’s asleep?” Eve’s mother was standing in the hall. “I would have put her to bed, Eve. You told me you had that test tomorrow.”
“I’ll be okay, Sandra.” She’d called her mother Sandra since she was a child. Sandra had been sensitive about appearing older, and so she had never been Mother to Eve, always Sandra. It was just a sign of how much she loved Bonnie that she accepted her calling her Grandma. “I needed a break anyway.” She smiled. “And I don’t get a chance to put her to bed every night.” She headed back down the hall toward her room. “I wish I did.”
“You go to school. You work to support her. You can’t do everything.”
“I know.” She stopped at the doorway and looked back at her mother. “But I was just thinking how lucky I am to have her.”
“How lucky we are,” Sandra said.
Eve nodded. “I know how much you love her.” And Eve would have had an even rougher time keeping Bonnie if it hadn’t been for her mother. She had been with them since Bonnie had been born. “She has a school picnic at the park tomorrow. I told her she could wear her Bugs Bunny T-shirt. I won’t be able to be there in the morning. But I should be able to be there by noon after I take my test. You’ll be there until I get there?”
Sandra nodded. “Of course I’ll be there. I’m intending to stay all day. I wouldn’t miss it. Stop worrying, Eve.”
“I just want her to have family there. Other kids have fathers, and I’m always afraid she’ll feel...” She frowned. “But we’re enough for her, aren’t we, Sandra?”
“I’ve never seen a happier child.” She shook her head. “And this isn’t like you, Eve. You never question a decision once it’s made. You’re not like me, who wobbles back and forth every time the wind blows. Even if John Gallo hadn’t been killed in the Army, you wouldn’t have wanted him to have anything to do with Bonnie. You told me yourself that it was only sex, not love, between you.”
That was true, and Eve didn’t know why she was suddenly worrying about Bonnie’s not having a conventional family. It was just that she wanted Bonnie to have everything that other children had, every bit of security, everyone to care about her. No, she wanted more. She wanted her to be surrounded by a golden wall of love all the days of her life.
And she was, Eve thought impatiently. No one could love Bonnie more than she did. More than Sandra did. She was being an idiot to start worrying about something that probably didn’t bother Bonnie at all. She had never once asked about her father. She seemed perfectly happy with Eve and Sandra.
“Go study,” Sandra said. “Stop worrying about tomorrow. Bonnie is going to have a wonderful time.” She turned away. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
“Good night.” Eve sat back down at her desk. Don’t think about Bonnie. Think about English Lit. Getting her degree was a way to protect Bonnie and give her all the things that she should have. This is what she should be doing.
And ignore this nagging feeling that something was wrong. What could be wrong?
Sandra was right. Bonnie was going to have a wonderful time at the park tomorrow.
* * *
NIGHTMARE.
Nightmare.
Nightmare.
“Let’s go over it one more time,” Detective Slindak said. “You didn’t see anyone approach your daughter?”
“I told you.” Eve’s voice was shaking. “There was a crowd. She went to the refreshment stand to get an ice cream. One minute she was there, the next she wasn’t.” She stared blindly at the three police cars parked next to the curb, the people standing around in groups, whispering and gazing at her. “She’s been gone for three hours. Why are you asking me questions? Find her.”
“We’re trying. Does your daughter often wander away from you?”
“No, never.” She stared at her mother sitting on the park bench with another police officer. Tears were running down Sandra’s cheeks, and she was leaning against him. “We were at the swings. My mother gave her money for an ice cream, and she ran to buy it. We could see the refreshment stand, so we thought it would be okay. She said she’d be right back. She wouldn’t have just wandered away.” But if she didn’t, then the other explanation was where the nightmares began. “I talked to the man at the refreshment stand. He remembered her.” Everyone always remembered Bonnie. Her smile, the way she lit up everything around her. “He sold her the ice cream, then she ran off into the crowd.”
“That’s what he told us, too.”
“Someone else must have seen her.” The panic was rising. “Talk to everyone. Find her.”
“We’re trying,” he said gently. “We’re questioning everyone. I’ve sent men to search the entire park.”
“They won’t find her here. Do you think I didn’t do that?” she asked fiercely. “I ran all over the park, calling her name. She didn’t answer.” The tears were beginning to fall. “I called and called. She didn’t answer. Bonnie would answer me. She would answer—”
“We’ll try again,” the detective said. “We’re exploring every possibility.”
“There’s a lake. I taught her to swim, but what if—”
“It’s an ornamental lake, just a man-made token. It’s only a drop of four feet in the deepest spot. And we’ve interviewed a father and son who have been sitting on the bench by the lake all afternoon. They would have seen her if she’d fallen into the water.”
“She has to be somewhere. Find her.” That’s the only thing she could say. That’s the only thing that made sense in a world that was suddenly drowning in madness. Bonnie had to be found. All the radiance and love that was Bonnie couldn’t be lost. God wouldn’t let that happen. They all just had to search harder, and they’d find her.
“We’re sending out another search party,” Detective Slindak said quietly as he gestured to the officers starting out toward the trees in the distance. “We’ve put out an all-points bulletin. You can’t do anything more here. Let me have an officer drive you and your mother home. We’ll call you as soon as we hear something.”
“You want me to go home?” she asked in disbelief. “Without my little girl? I can’t do that.”
“You can’t help more than you have already. It’s better that you leave it to us.”
“Bonnie is mine. I won’t leave here.” She whirled away from Slindak. “I’ll go with the search party. I’ll call her name. She’ll answer me.”
“She didn’t before,” Slindak said gently. “She may not be there to answer.”
He hadn’t said “or she might be unable to answer,” but Eve knew it was in his mind. Cold fear was causing the muscles of her stomach to clench at the thought. Her heart was beating so hard that she could barely catch her breath. “She’ll answer me. She’ll find a way to let me know where she is. You don’t understand. Bonnie is such a special, loving, little girl ... She’ll find a way.”
“I’m sure that you’re right,” the detective said.
“You’re not sure of anything,” she said fiercely. “But I am.” She started at a run after the search team of officers heading for the trees. “This is all a mistake. No one would hurt my Bonnie. We just have to find her.”
She could feel the detective’s gaze on her back as she caught up with the search team. She knew he wanted to make her stop. He wanted her to behave sensibly and let them do their job. But it was her job, too. She had brought Bonnie into the world. In the end, that made it only her job.
I’ll find you, baby. Don’t be afraid. I’ll fight off anything that could hurt you. Wait for me. I’ll always be there for you.
No matter how long it takes or how far I have to go, I’ll bring you home, Bonnie.
Copyright © 2011 by Johansen Publishing LLLP
Continues...
Excerpted from Bonnie by Iris Johansen Copyright © 2011 by Iris Johansen. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen has captivated millions of readers with her fast-paced forensics thrillers featuring heroine Eve Duncan. Here together for the first time in a convenient ebook bundle are three of her popular Eve Duncan novels:
Eve
Forensic sculptor Eve Duncan's mission in life is to bring closure to the families who have experienced the agony of a missing child. Eve is brilliant, driven, and tormented—because her own daughter, Bonnie, was taken from her years ago. But now, with the help of a CIA agent, Eve has uncovered some startling new evidence: A man with a connection to Bonnie that had been all but buried. His name is John Gallo. He's from Eve's own past. His whereabouts are unknown. And he might just be the missing piece to the puzzle that has haunted Eve for years...
Quinn
When former Navy SEAL turned cop Joe Quinn first met Eve he never expected to fall in love with a woman whose life would be defined by her desires to bring home her missing daughter and discover the truth behind her disappearance—no matter how devastating. With the help of CIA agent Catherine Ling, Quinn makes a shocking discovery that sheds new light on young Bonnie's abduction and puts him squarely in the crosshairs of danger. As their search takes them deeper and deeper into a web of murder and madness, Joe and Eve must confront their most primal fears...and test their resolve to uncover the ultimate bone-chilling truth.
Bonnie
With the help of her beloved Joe Quinn and CIA Agent Catherine Ling, Eve has come closer than ever to the truth. But the deeper she digs, the more she realizes that Bonnie's father is a key player in solving this monstrous puzzle. And that Bonnie's disappearance was not as random as everyone had always believed...
The #1 bestselling author Iris Johansen delivers the first in a trilogy that will begin to answer questions that have haunted her legion of fans for over a decade, in her next novel of breathtaking suspense
Eve Duncan's mission in life is to bring closure to the families who have experienced the agony of a missing child. As a forensic sculptor, she is able to piece together bones, create a face, and bring an identity to a child who would have otherwise gone unidentified...maybe forever. Eve is brilliant, and driven, and tormented--because her own daughter, Bonnie, was taken from her years ago. And Eve has never discovered what happened to her. But now a name from the past resurfaces, thanks to CIA agent Catherine Ling who knows all too well what it's like to lose a child.
After teaming up with Agent Ling to find her missing son, Eve and Catherine share a bond forged by their mutual pain. Now, Catherine challenges Eve with a name: John Gallo. A man from Eve's past. A man, seemingly raised from the dead, whose whereabouts are unknown. Could Gallo be the missing piece to the puzzle that has haunted Eve for years? Why was he in Atlanta just before Bonnie's disappearance? With a brilliant narrative that goes back to Eve Duncan's early life, exploring her history and motivations like no other novel before, Eve reveals long-guarded secrets and is guaranteed to leave Johansen fans panting for more.
#1 New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen explores the darkest corners of the human heart as forensic sculptor Eve Duncan closes in on the killer who stole her daughter so many years ago.
As a former Navy SEAL turned cop, Joe Quinn has seen the face of evil and knows just how deadly it can be. When he first met Eve Duncan, he never expected to fall in love with a woman whose life would be defined by her dual desires to bring home her missing daughter and discover the truth behind her disappearance---no matter how devastating. With the help of CIA agent Catherine Ling, they make a shocking discovery that sheds new light on young Bonnie's abduction and puts Quinn squarely in the crosshairs of danger. Eve's first love, John Gallo, a soldier supposedly killed in the line of duty, is very much alive---and very much a threat.
Emotionally charged, with one shock after another, Quinn reveals the electricity of Joe and Eve's first connection, and how they fell in love in the midst of haunting tragedy. As their search takes them deeper and deeper into a web of murder and madness, Joe and Eve must confront their most primal fears . . . and test their resolve to uncover the ultimate bone-chilling truth.
The truth has eluded her for years...Now, is she ready to face it? The #1 New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen has written an explosive conclusion to the trilogy that will finally lay to rest the questions that have haunted her fans for a decade
When Eve Duncan gave birth to her daughter, she experienced a love she never knew existed. Nothing would stand in the way of giving Bonnie a wonderful life—until the unthinkable happened and the seven-year-old vanished into thin air. Eve found herself in the throes of a nightmare from which there was no escape. But a new Eve emerged: a woman who would use her remarkable talent as a forensic sculptor to help others find closure in the face of tragedy. Now with the help of her beloved Joe Quinn and CIA agent Catherine Ling, Eve has come closer than ever to the truth. But the deeper she digs, the more she realizes that Bonnie's father is a key player in solving this monstrous puzzle. And that Bonnie's disappearance was not as random as everyone had always believed . . .