Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(25)

She hurriedly put the computer and camera equipment away and ran a quick comb through her hair. No time to start boxing Sylvie for Joe to take in to Forensics tomorrow.

But you didn’t confront new guests with a skull staring at them either.

She tossed the black velvet cloth over it and headed for the front door. “Sorry, Sylvie,” she muttered. “No offense.”

She could hear the car doors slam as she came out on the porch. “Thanks for bringing them, Officer Haverty,” she called. “We owe you.”

“My pleasure.” He was smiling not at Eve but at the blond woman he was helping retrieve a suitcase from his trunk. “Anytime. Just call, Darcy.”

“Thank you, Bob,” she said softly. “You’ve been such a help. But I can handle it from now on.”

“Eve!” Cara was flying up the steps and into her arms. She hugged her tightly. “It’s so good to be home.”

“It’s wonderful to have you home,” Eve said unsteadily. “It’s been too long. Can’t that school arrange to have any concerts down here? We do have a modicum of culture I’ve been told. For heaven’s sake, they sent you to Phoenix. That’s clear across the country.”

“It will be over soon. Just one more year…” She took a step back and grinned. “Then they say I’ll be able to pick and choose.”

“Yeah, sure. Then every impresario in the world will want their piece of you.” She smiled. “They already do, or you wouldn’t be used as bait to lure all those donations.”

“I need the experience. And most of them are fine charities. It’s win-win. Though Darcy agrees with you. She’s a bit cynical about—” She turned toward the woman climbing the steps. “But she’ll tell you herself. Come up here, Darcy. This is Darcy Nichols, Eve.”

“I’m coming. I’ve been so eager to meet you, Eve. Cara won’t stop talking about you.” Darcy was smiling, her entire face lit with enthusiasm as she hurried up the steps toward them. “It took me a while to inveigle myself into the inner circle, but here I am. Now the first question is what can I do to make you adopt me? If you don’t kick me out, I promise I’ll—” She stopped. Her eyes widened in alarm. “What’s wrong? Did I offend you? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I guess I’m—”

“No.” Eve raised a shaking hand to halt that flow of apologies. Eve could barely get that word out. Stunned. Crazy. It was all crazy … and terrifying. Her gaze was clinging to Darcy Nichols’s concerned face. “Not your fault. At least, I don’t think it is. Mistake? I can’t put it together…”

“Eve?” Cara took a step closer to her. “Are you okay? You’re white as a tombstone.” She put her arm around Eve’s waist. “Let’s go inside. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

“Yes, I have to go inside,” Eve said numbly. “I have to see why—” She turned and went back inside the house. “None of it makes sense.”

“What should I do? Someone I should call?” Darcy asked Cara. “Is she sick? Is it something I did?”

“I don’t know,” Cara said. “I don’t think—I don’t know what to think.”

She had to snap out of this, Eve thought. She was scaring Cara. A reason. There had to be a reason. She stopped in the middle of the living room and took a deep breath. “I’m not sick. Something just happened that sent me—I’m just … surprised.” Understatement. She was still in shock. “I think you’ll both understand when I—” She moistened her lips. “Coincidence. It’s got to be a coincidence. God, I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”

Cara was gazing at her in bewilderment. “Coincidence?”

Eve knew she wasn’t handing this well. She didn’t know how to do it any better. Okay, just go for it, and take care of figuring out everything later. She drew a deep breath. “It’s a coincidence that I’ve been sculpting your friend Darcy’s, face for the last five days.”

*

Eve strode over to her workbench and jerked off the black velvet cloth that was covering the reconstruction. “No, it’s the same face, dammit.” Her gaze was going back and forth from the reconstruction to Darcy’s features. Same jaw. Same high cheekbones. Same nose. Same lips. Even the same sparkling blue eyes. “Not just a resemblance. Not a coincidence. It’s the same face.” Her hands clenched. “Do you know what that means? I made a mistake. This reconstruction is going to be useless as far as ID goes. I must have seen a photo or a TV clip of Darcy’s show sometime in the past, and my memory grabbed and used it when I thought I was doing a new reconstruction. That’s always a danger, but I’ve never made that mistake before. I’ll have to break it down to the skull again and start all over.”

“Maybe you won’t.” Darcy’s gaze was fixed on the face of the reconstruction. Her face was as pale as Eve’s as she moved slowly, stiffly across the room toward the worktable. “You say this is … a skull?”

“Yes.” Eve had been so disappointed that she had failed in her attempt to bring Sylvie home that she had ignored the fact that for ordinary people, Eve’s mistake would seem macabre and even frightening. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I didn’t mean to involve you in—”