Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(8)



“None of them are the same.” He was reaching out to gently touch that blackened cheekbone. “She never wanted to be the same…” His finger went to the gaping hole in the back of the skull. “It’s gone, Mama. Why?”

How to delicately explain that her brain had exploded and blown away the skull? No delicate way. Don’t explain. Generalize.

“It was the fire, Michael. This kind of thing happens very often when there’s a fire.”

“But you’ll fix it?”

“Yes, I’ll fix it.”

“You’ll fix everything.” His gaze shifted from the skull to Eve’s face. “I think she’ll be beautiful, Mama.”

“So do I.” She gave him a swat. “Now go brush your teeth. You have to be out of here in five minutes.”

“Okay.” He was hurrying across the room, but he stopped as he started down the hall. “Sylvie.”

She halted in the act of replacing the cloth. “What?”

“You should call her Sylvie.”

He disappeared into the bathroom.

*

Eve’s phone rang when she had barely started the initial measuring on the reconstruction.

Cara.

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to have to delay coming,” she said when she answered. “Michael was over the moon when I told him.”

“No, I still haven’t got the exact date, but I think it will be next week, if that’s okay,” Cara said. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” She hesitated, then burst out, “Have you heard from Jock?”

Jock Gavin. Cara hadn’t spoken about him the last few times she’d called, but Eve had known he was always on her mind. Cara’s bond with Jock had started when she was only eleven, and he had saved her life. They had both led tortured lives filled with fear and loneliness and somehow when they’d come together, the child and the young man had become best friends, almost soul mates. But that did not mean that the relationship had been without friction. “No, not since last Christmas when he came here for that one day. Why? Haven’t you heard from him?”

“No.” Then she said in a rush, “Three months. Not for three months. He doesn’t answer my calls or my emails. What does he think he’s doing? Doesn’t he know I worry about him?”

“I can see how you’d be concerned. But you know that no one can take care of himself better than Jock.”

“How am I supposed to know that? Whenever MacDuff doesn’t need him, he’s climbing mountains or going off on round-the-world cruises or trekking off with one of his CIA buddies and trying to get himself shot.”

“He’s restless,” Eve said soothingly. “MacDuff may be his best friend, but they have separate lives. MacDuff is Laird of MacDuff’s Run and is becoming occupied with all that goes with it. Jock will always be there for him, but he’s exploring other avenues.”

“Away from me,” Cara said jerkily. “He won’t talk to me.”

Eve could sense the hurt, but she felt helpless to heal it. “That’s not like Jock, and you know it.” She paused, then probed. “Something’s behind it?”

Cara was silent. “He’s angry with me.”

There it was. “Why?”

“I told him that I’d cleared all of July to spend the month with my grandfather in New Orleans.”

No wonder he’d gone ballistic. Eve was upset herself. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to do it next week. I knew you wouldn’t like it, and I wanted to tell you face-to-face.”

“No, I don’t like it. Imagine that. Sergai Kaskov is head of one of the most powerful Mafia families in Moscow. I don’t want you anywhere near him whether or not he’s your grandfather. Just being around him is dangerous for you.”

“I made him a promise, Eve,” she said quietly. “He didn’t ask much considering what he gave me in return. He didn’t have to save you when you were carrying Michael and fighting that poison. But he did it, and you both lived. I barely knew him, but when I asked, he gave that to me.”

It was hard to argue with her when she brought up that terrifying period in both their lives. Eve had been given a deadly poison by Kaskov’s daughter, and he’d given her the antidote that had saved both her life and Michael’s. “In exchange for one month with you every single year. That’s not all that generous.”

“Yes, it is,” she said softly. “We have Michael. I have you, Eve. What’s one month?”

“Ask Jock,” Eve said grimly. “He thinks you could be the target of rival Mafia families, or that Kaskov might hurt you himself. When you started these damn visits four years ago, he asked me to stop you. Jock never asks anything of anyone. Do you think it didn’t mean something to him?”

“He shouldn’t have done that.”

“It didn’t do any good anyway. You wouldn’t listen to me. You’ve visited with Kaskov for the last three years. And now you have another one coming up? How long is this supposed to go on?”

“I don’t know. I thought he’d get bored with me. It’s not as if we interact very much. He conducts his business, and we eat meals together. I play for him in the evening. That’s all that goes on.”

Iris Johansen's Books