Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(13)



“There’s a special bus from the school.”

“Easy to watch. Easy to access.”

She moistened her lips. “Maybe. But there are other performers almost everywhere I go.”

“Almost.” He muttered a curse. “I’m scaring you. I don’t want to do that. Or maybe I do. Because I’ve spent the last few months in Moscow trying to tap every contact I have to see if there are any rumblings about Kaskov. Or if there’s any talk about any of the Mafia families who have been particularly vocal about what kind of mayhem they’d like to practice on him.”

“And what did you find out?”

“Nothing conclusive. Which made me frustrated and mad as hell and sent me back here to see if I could find out anything more from Stanton.”

“And to let me know that I was harassing you.” She looked down at their joined hands. “You did scare me. It brought back too many memories.”

“I know it did. But you’re not alone now. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He added grimly. “Just stay away from Kaskov. Don’t go to New Orleans.”

“You said you didn’t find out anything in Moscow. Maybe it doesn’t matter if I go to New Orleans or not.”

“And maybe it does.” His lips tightened. “You said you were frightened, but you’re still not saying that you’re not going to go.”

“I have to think about it. I’m a little … shook right now,” she said. “So stop trying to bully me into doing what you want.”

“Cara.”

“I have to think.” She leaned forward. “There’s the auditorium up ahead. Are you going to stay and listen to me?”

He didn’t answer.

“Don’t shut me out again,” she whispered. “It didn’t work, and it hurt both of us.”

He hesitated, then he lifted her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm. “I wouldn’t miss listening to you play. You’re right, it didn’t work.” He released her hand as they drew up to the curb. “That sign says it’s sold-out. Can you smuggle me in the stage door?”

“Yes.” She looked out the window. “There’s Darcy, she’ll help. She just smiles, and everyone bends over backward.”

“That’s your new roommate?” His gaze followed Cara’s. “I can see how that might happen. She’s absolutely lovely. Wonderful features.”

Cara nodded. “The complete package.” Darcy’s long blond hair framed high cheekbones, square jaw, and wide-set blue eyes that were riveting. In her white, tea-length gown, she had definite star quality. “And she has a superb voice. Though the reviews almost always mention her face and figure as much as her voice. It’s not fair. I guess I’m lucky.”

“I guess you are.” His eyes were twinkling as he got out of the car and held out his hand to help her. “It’s wonderful that you’re so ugly that it doesn’t interfere with the music.”

“Well, it’s true. Oh, I’m not bad-looking, but it’s difficult for—” She saw his face and she slapped his hand away. “Stop smiling. And you’d have just as bad a time as Darcy does. You’re just as beautiful and you’d see how—”

He made a face. “Beautiful?”

“You know you are. There’s no other word for you. You’re above and beyond. You just smile and women go into a tailspin. Now come on and I’ll introduce you to Darcy. She thinks you’re hot. You dazzled her when she saw you in reception. I have to make it right for not introducing you then. It wasn’t the time.”

“No, it wasn’t the time,” he said quietly. “That seems to be our mantra, doesn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer but stepped forward as he reached Darcy and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jock.” His smile was totally charming and lit his face with warmth that was close to radiance. “Cara tells me if anyone can sneak me into this concert, it will be you. What can I do to persuade you to do it?”





CHAPTER

3

LAKE COTTAGE ATLANTA, GEORGIA



“Hey, you’re making good progress.”

Eve turned away from the depth markers she was placing in the reconstruction to see Joe standing a few yards behind her, looking at the skull. “Not as fast as I’d like. It took a while to close up that hole in the skull and make it look perfect.”

“And everything has to look perfect for Sylvie?” He smiled. “Not that you’re not a perfectionist anyway, but you’re being more than usually obsessive with this one.” His smile faded. “Not that I blame you. I wish that I could dig in and get my hands on answers like you’re doing. Three days, and we still haven’t been able to trace your Sylvie through dental records or DNA. We extracted DNA from one of the molars, but there’s no match on any database we can find. So we’d have to rely on finding a family match, which throws us back to finding who the hell she is.”

“No leads on where she was burned? It was very thorough and must have taken a long time. A crematorium?”

“We’re checking. No records from any local funeral homes that might have ordered it done. But records can be falsified, bribes can be made to crematorium employees to do the work.”

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