Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(41)

And Darcy was once more being light and flip and sunny.

But something had definitely changed, Cara thought, as she and Michael followed Darcy toward the house.

And what lay beneath that smile was neither light nor sunny.

NICE, FRANCE

Jock was only forty-five minutes from Jacques Manard’s house on the shore when he got the call from Benoit.

“It’s about time you got back to me. For a man with your credentials, I’d think you’d be a little more—”

“I had some verifications to do,” Benoit said. “For which you’re going to be very grateful. If it wasn’t for my keen intellect and multitude of contacts, you would have walked right into it. The police are all over the place.”

Jock’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Drugs? A raid?”

“Manard should have been so lucky. He’s dead. Sniper shot from a passing motorboat while Manard was basking by the pool with his current mistress.”

“Shit.”

“I’m sure that was Manard’s last thought, too,” Benoit said. “You were at Paillon and not indulging in water sports today?”

“I was at Paillon,” he said curtly. “What’s the word on the sniper?”

“Very good. Very professional. He took that shot from a motorboat, for God’s sake.”

“Any word on who paid?”

“Not yet. But it’s curious that Manard bought it on the same day that you were so eager to touch base with him. It’s good that I’m so discreet … and trusting.”

“Try to find out who took the shot. And why.”

“That means I’ll have to deal with Manard’s men, who are less than—”

“Deal with them. Find out. I need to know!”

He cut the connection.

LAKE PROPERTY ATLANTA, GEORGIA

He had blood on his shoes, Norwalk realized.

Strange that the blood was on his shoes and not his hands. But then he’d been careful with his hands and worn gloves. It had been after it was finished he’d been so excited and heady with eagerness that he’d ignored the blood pool as he’d walked back to his car after he’d made the kill. Or it could be that he’d been looking at Eve’s pretty cottage and thinking of the kills to come.

Careless. There was a time that he’d never have been that careless, but now it didn’t seem to matter.

All that mattered was that the waiting was over now. He could start moving forward. The thought was making his heart beat harder with that same excitement.

No, the blood didn’t matter at all.

*

“Manard’s dead?” Eve repeated, stunned, as Joe hung up the phone from talking to Jock. “What the hell?”

“That’s what Jock is wondering. But he’s on his way back here. He’s not about to stick around and collar any of Manard’s men for questioning. He doesn’t like the fact that Manard was taken down almost immediately after Jock found out about Norwalk’s connection to the Pierpont Funeral Home.”

“He thinks Norwalk is eliminating witnesses?”

Joe shrugged. “Maybe. Our report on Norwalk was that he’s definitely unstable, and his actions toward Sylvie and her mother confirmed that. But he may be crazy like a fox, and he does have a team he can call on in Dublin to do his dirty work.”

“Or hire a sniper to do it,” Eve said. “The minute he knew we’d connected him to what was happening, he began to move. Why?” Her gaze was on the reconstruction of Sylvie on the worktable. “But it all seems to be centered on Darcy Nichols, doesn’t it? Her mother, her twin sister, her suite at the residence that was burglarized.”

“Which was also Cara’s suite,” Joe said. “That’s what’s putting Jock on edge. Yes, everything else seems aimed at Darcy.” He muttered a curse beneath his breath and got to his feet. “But we’re not sure, and I don’t like that any more than Jock does. I believe I’m going to go take a stroll through the woods. Where are the girls and Michael?”

“On the porch playing cards.” She glanced out the window. “The sun isn’t down yet. You usually wait until dark. Any reason?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on. It could be I’m a little on edge myself.” He headed for the door. “Keep everyone close. I’ll be in touch.”

A moment later, she heard Joe on the porch laughing and talking to Michael before he ran down the steps. A lazy summer afternoon with the kids playing games on the front porch. What could be more natural or right?

Nothing I can put my finger on.

But Joe had excellent instincts, and it was making Eve uneasy that he was feeling something was not quite right. And was it natural for Darcy to be torn apart by the horror of what had happened to her Sylvie? Or right that there was that skull sitting on Eve’s worktable across the room staring out of those blue eyes so much like Darcy’s?

She got to her feet and slowly moved across the room to stand before the reconstruction.

So beautiful … Eve was always as aware of the vulnerability and wonder in that face as she had been in that moment when she had finished her reconstruction. But perhaps she was becoming so accustomed to looking at it that she was only now seeing the tiny laugh lines about the mouth, the gentleness and humor in the curve of the lips. It was almost as if Sylvie were growing, changing …