Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(5)
“Maybe some kid’s idea of a practical joke?” She was coming down the porch steps now. “I feel a little foolish cowering inside.”
“I don’t,” he said. “Whoever was out there in the woods was there for a while, and he wasn’t a kid. That’s called stalking. And there are other people besides that kid, Gary, who think what you do is kind of scary.” He was examining the interior. “Or, what’s worse, that they don’t think it’s scary at all.” His fingers were carefully exploring something. “There’s a flat surface on the top that’s glittering in the light…” He leaned closer and muttered a curse. “It’s a mirror.”
“What?” She came down the rest of the stairs and looked inside the box. It was a mirror that occupied the entire upper diameter of the interior of the box. It was glittering, framed in gold and perfectly reflected her face.
And that reflection mirrored both her bewilderment and fear. Fear. It was only because this entire episode was so unexpected and bizarre that she was feeling this shaken, she told herself. It would probably turn out to be the practical joke that had been her first thought.
“That’s only the top layer, Joe.” She moistened her lips. “What else is in the box?”
“I’m working on it.” He was gently prying the frame of the mirror away from the sides of the box. “I’ll have it in a minute…” Then it came free and he lifted it out.
Glittering mirrored shards fell down into the box.
“Double mirror,” Joe said. “This side seems to be broken. It must have been cracked and, when I lifted, it broke entirely.” He reached down to pick up one of the broken shards. “It fell on this black—” He inhaled sharply. “Holy shit.”
Eve saw it too. The black velvet cloth had shifted to one side, uncovering something else equally black and very familiar to Eve. “It’s a skull.” She pulled the cloth completely away. Blackened. All flesh gone. “Burned. Someone burned this skull.”
“It’s the real thing?” Joe asked quietly. “Not just a good replica from a party store?”
“It’s the real thing.” She turned away as she saw the bullet hole in the temple. “And there’s nothing that even hints at a party. Bring it inside. I need to look at it.”
Joe didn’t move. “I could take it down to the precinct. It’s not really your problem. You don’t have to be involved. Forensics will have to go over it anyway.”
“I am involved.” She looked back at him, and added fiercely, “How could I not be? He delivered this skull to me. He went to a great deal of trouble on this presentation. He brought it to my home.” She gestured to the woods. “He stood there where my son could see him. Do you think that doesn’t make it my problem?”
“It makes it my problem,” Joe said. “I was hoping that I could keep you out of it.” He picked up the box and carried it up the porch steps. “Not going to happen.”
She nodded and held the door for him. “Put the box on my worktable and call Forensics and get them out here for testing right away.”
“I’ll do it while I take a look around the property.” He placed the gold-wrapped box on her worktable in the studio area. “Lock the door behind me.” He headed back toward the door. “I don’t have to tell you not to touch anything until Forensics gets through with the initial investigation.”
“Just get them here soon.” She followed him to the door. “Be careful.” She kissed him quickly. “And I’m not about to do anything with that skull until I make sure Michael is okay and safely in bed. I don’t like the fact that he was the one who sent you out there.”
“A bear,” he reminded her.
“Maybe.” She closed the door and locked it. Then she headed across the living room toward the bedrooms. She carefully averted her eyes from the gold box on her worktable as she passed by her studio. Beautiful gold paper covering a horror of blackened skull.
But skulls were never a horror to her, the horror was when monsters reached out to make them that way.
Michael’s nightstand lamp was on, and she paused a moment in his doorway gazing at him. His eyes were shut, but she knew he was not asleep. Clean and shining and beautiful, wonderful and yet also full of wonder.
She saw Cara’s latest CD on top of the CD player on his nightstand. His photo of Cara was beside it. It was a picture he had snapped of her with his phone camera down at the lake. Cara was dressed in shorts and a white shirt and sitting cross-legged with her violin in her hands. She was smiling, her long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and her brown eyes were shining with affection and humor. Eve had always loved that photo and searched out a frame for Michael when he had brought the picture to her. It showed more than the Cara who had a certain dark exotic beauty inherited from her Mexican father and Russian mother. It showed the depth, the spirit, the clean intensity of the young girl. And the heart, she thought, definitely the heart …
“Mama?” Michael opened his eyes that were so like the rich, tea color of his father’s. “You came to say good night?”
“Among other things.” She crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside him. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to lecture you anymore. That’s over.” She took his hand. “Bear, Michael? Why didn’t you tell me?”