The Killing Game (29 page)

Grunard was right, something was bothering Charlie. But maybe he was just feeling the pressure. “If you can't, you can't. Then I guess if we can't bribe you, you'll just have to buy the drinks.” He headed for the bar. “How's your wife?”

EVE WAS SLEEPING
when Dom called her very early in the morning. The sound of his voice was hideously jarring, piercing the serenity she usually felt after dreams of Bonnie.

“You've been busy. How did you like the scenes of my childhood?”

“How do you know I was there?”

“I listen. I watch. Don't you feel me watching you, Eve?”

“No, I ignore you . . . Kevin.”

He chuckled. “I prefer Dom. Kevin doesn't exist anymore. I've gone through so many transformations since then. And I've noticed you've been trying to close me out. It made me angry at the time. But I got over it. It only whetted my appetite.”

“Kevin must have been a nasty little bastard. What happened to your parents?”

“What you think happened.”

“You killed them.”

“It was inevitable. My father saw Satan in me from the time I was a small child. He'd make me stand and hold a black candle in each hand and then he'd beat me until I fell to my knees. When the beating was over, he'd rub salt into the wounds. Maybe he was right about seeing evil in me. Do you think we're born with the seeds of evil?”

“I think you were.”

“But you also think I'm insane. My father was insane and they called him a saint. The line is so thin, isn't it?”

“Did Ezekiel and Jacob think he was insane?”

“No, they were as frightened and fooled by him as all the rest. But I tried to make them see. I took them with me when I ran away. I was lonely then and needed people.”

“And you brought them here to Phoenix.”

“We were going to California. I'd talked the Harding kids into going with us. But then Ezekiel and Jacob got scared. They packed up one night and ran back to my father. I went into a rage.”

“And killed the Hardings.”

“It was beyond anything. The ultimate experience of my life. And at last I knew what I was and what I was meant to do. I went back to that tent on the hill and I butchered all of them.”

“Your mother too?”

“She stood by and watched him punish me. Is cruelty less painful because it's passive?”

“And your brothers?”

“They made their choice when they went back to him. I had to start over.”

“Where are the bodies?”

“You won't find them. I scattered their parts over half of Arizona and New Mexico and enjoyed every moment of it.”

“And sowed that campground with salt.”

“A melodramatic piece of symbolism, but I was only a boy at the time.”

“Like leaving a candle with your victims? You're not a boy now.”

“It's difficult to erase the teachings of childhood. Or perhaps part of my satisfaction is showing my father that I use his precious candles in my own way.”

“Your father is dead.”

“He was sure he was going to heaven, so he must be looking down on me. Or do you think his soul was chopped up with his body? I've often wondered.” He paused. “Do you believe Bonnie's soul was destroyed?”

She bit hard on her lower lip. “No.”

“Well, you'll know soon. I haven't decided what candle I'll use for you. It's a terrible decision. White for Jane, of course, but your color must reflect—”

She hung up. He was in a mood for confidences, and perhaps she should have held on, but she couldn't take any more. He was dragging her down into the darkness that surrounded him. It was worse because it followed the wonderful dream of Bonnie. At this moment the evil seemed to be overpowering and she was helpless to fight it. It kept coming and coming . . .

You should learn something from that. Live every moment. Don't put off anything until tomorrow.

Bonnie's words.

Live every moment . . .

EVE HEARD JOE
come into the house two hours later. She left her bedroom and waited for him at the top of the stairs.

He paused when he saw her. “Okay?”

“No, Dom called. Nothing is ever okay when he talks to me.”

“What did he say?”

“Poison. Ugliness. I'll tell you later.” She held out a hand. “Come to bed.”

He slowly climbed the steps until he stood before her. “I'm being forgiven for not being sorry Logan bowed out?”

“It was never a question of forgiveness.”

He took her hand. “You've discovered you can't live without me in your bed?”

“Will you stop joking?”

“Who's joking?” He reached out and touched her cheek. “I'm probing. I have an idea something very important is happening here. Why, Eve?”

She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. “I never gave Bonnie a puppy. She wanted it and I put it off. And then it was too late.”

His brows lifted. “And what's the connection? Is taking me into your bed the equivalent of giving me a puppy?”

She shook her head. “The puppy's not for you, Joe. It's for me. I'm being entirely selfish. I want to be near you. I want you to talk to me. I want you to make love to me.” She smiled shakily. “And I won't put it off. I won't wait until it's too late. Will you come to bed and be with me, Joe Quinn?”

“Oh, yes.” He slid his arm around her waist. His voice was as uneven as hers had been. “You're damn right I will.”

C                  H                  A                  P                  T                  E                  R

SIXTEEN

When Spiro called Eve that afternoon, she told him what Dom had told her of his childhood. “Did the technician monitoring the phone trace the call?”

“No, that's been a washout, dammit. But what Dom told you computes with the little we've learned,” Spiro said. “We've contacted the schools in Jamison. No school records for the Baldridge boys. But I managed to track down a couple of reports about an official going out to see Reverend Baldridge and inquiring why the boys weren't in school. The reverend claimed his sons were being home-schooled. He didn't think the boys would get a godly education in public schools.”

“Anything else?”

“One more thing. The reports were on Ezekiel and Jacob. No mention of Kevin.”

“If he never attended the services, maybe they didn't know he existed.”

“Judging by the destruction of that hilltop, I'd say he wanted to make his presence known.”

“Not necessarily. He went for years and never seemed to need public recognition of his acts. It's only recently that he's changed.”

“He was just starting out then. He hadn't learned. He hadn't evolved.” Spiro paused. “But even though he's different now, he would still have traits that fit the usual pattern of the organized offender.”

“Above average intelligence, for one,” Eve said. “But all this talk isn't getting us anywhere. We need to know what he looks like. Where is that photograph?”

“Don't get your hopes up. The photo may not be the answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.”

“We're supposed to be working together. Stop being evasive. Tell me.”

Spiro was silent.

Dammit, he was stubborn and FBI through and through. She was getting tired of prying information out of him. He had made a deal, but it was clear he wasn't going to budge on this point. Okay, pin him down at least on the time. “When?”

“Soon.”

“When?”

“God, you're persistent. Tomorrow, maybe.” He hung up.

THEY DIDN
'
T GET
a duplicate of the photograph until two days later. Spiro came to the house and handed Eve a five-by-seven envelope. “Here it is. You're going to be disappointed.”

“Why?”

“Look at it.”

Joe moved to stand beside her as she opened the envelope and took out the photograph.

It had obviously been taken in a huge backyard. Two teenage boys sat in the foreground at a picnic table; a third was far in the background, coming down porch steps.

“According to Mrs. Harding, the kid on the steps is Kevin Baldridge,” Spiro said. “The two at the picnic table are Ezekiel and Jacob.”

Dammit, Kevin Baldridge was not only far away but the photo had been slightly overexposed, and because he was in motion, his figure was blurred and completely unrecognizable.

“No wonder the police didn't take this from the Hardings at the time,” Eve said. “He's just a blur. He could be anyone. Joe told me that Charlie was troubled about this photograph. I can see why.” She looked at Spiro. “Photo technology has improved enormously in the last twenty-five years. They might not have been able to clarify this photograph then, but you can do it now, can't you?”

“Probably. I've sent another duplicate to Quantico.” He paused. “But I wondered if you'd like to take a shot at it yourself. You work with photographs too.”

“My specialty is age progression, and that's completely different from what you need here.”

“Oh.” Spiro was disappointed. “Too bad.”

Yes, it was, she thought with frustration.

“Nothing you can do?” Spiro asked.

She thought about it. “Maybe.” She stood up and got a phone book. “If there's a film developer in town who does global corrections.”

“Global corrections?”

“Air brushing and other kinds of—Here it is.” She had found an advertisement in the yellow pages. “Pixmore. Now we'll have to see if they have the equipment and the experts to do the job.”

“Glamour shots?” Joe was looking over her shoulder at the ad, which showed a close-up of a beautiful woman. “Not exactly scientific.”

“How do you think companies like this make their money? They remove everything from zits and facial wrinkles to dark hair roots on photographs.” She looked at the photograph again. “They
might
be able to do it. Correctors prefer to work with slides, but I'll take this to them, see if they have someone qualified.” She put the picture back in the envelope. “These places are usually backed up for weeks. Can you put a little FBI muscle behind me?”

“I'll have Charlie meet you at Pixmore,” Spiro said. “How long should it take?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe twenty-four hours. It depends on how good the technician is and what kind of overtime he's willing to put in.”

“I'll ask Charlie to stay with him until it's finished.”

“Good.” She moved toward the door. “That will probably help.”

“I'll drive you,” Joe said.

“That's not necessary.”

He made a face. “At the moment I don't seem able to make any other contribution. I'm feeling the need to be needed.”

PIXMORE WAS THIRTY
minutes from north Phoenix and perched on the summit of a curving mountain road. The one-story building was all glass and stone and gleamed in the sunlight. Charlie Cather pulled into the parking lot right after Joe and Eve.

“I'm glad you think we can get something done with that photo.” He shook his head. “I was disappointed. I thought I'd really zeroed in on something.”

“You did,” Eve said. “It still may be salvageable.”

“That's what Spiro said.” He nodded at the Toyota driving into the parking lot. “There's Grunard.”

“What's he doing here?” Eve asked.

“He was with me at the hotel when Spiro called. He's been bugging the hell out of me.” Joe made a face. “But he's not a bad guy.”

“Spiro won't like it.”

“I cleared it with him. He said give him an appetizer but not the main course. He leaves before they start working on the photo.”

Mark was coming toward them, smiling.

“Don't look now, but he appears ready for dessert,” Joe said dryly.

“
CAN
'
T YOU GET
me a negative?” The technician's name was Billy Sung. He was under twenty-five and definitely not optimistic. “I'm not a miracle worker, you know.”

“No negative,” Eve said. “Your boss says you're the best technician he has. I'm sure you won't have a problem.”

“Don't give me a snow job. I'll have a hell of a problem. This print has multiple errors. One would be easy to correct, but not all of them. You need one of those digital imaging companies in L.A. or a university think tank to enhance those pixels. Pixmore doesn't have the equipment.”

“No chance?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I have a college professor who has a government research grant, and his equipment is way beyond state of the art. He usually lets me use it.”

“You're a student?”

“Yeah, I need a degree to get a job with one of those companies on the West Coast. I have to compete with all those whiz kids from UCLA and USC. Those companies are cutting edge. It's incredible what they do with digital computer and software equipment.” He looked back at the photograph. “But I do damn well considering what I work with.”

“I'm sure you do,” Eve said. “Who is this professor and where's his lab?”

“Professor Dunkeil. Ralph Dunkeil. His lab's about five minutes from here on Blue Mountain Drive.”

“Could I have it by tomorrow?”

He shook his head.

“Please, it's very important to me.”

He looked at her face for a couple of seconds and then slowly nodded. “If you can clear it with Grisby. He's not going to like me putting everything on hold.”

“Your boss has already okayed it,” Charlie said. “He said that you're ours for the next thirty-six hours.”

“That sounds like slave labor.” He grimaced. “Though Grisby's pretty much of a slave driver himself. I had to threaten to quit last quarter to make him give me time off to take my finals.”

“I'd be grateful if you'll try to hurry it,” Eve said. “You'll call me?”

“I'll call you, Eve,” Charlie said. “I'll go with Mr. Sung and help.”

“I don't need your help.” Sung gave Charlie a cool glance. “The government is too much into our business as it is. FBI, CIA, IRS. Now you come in here and try to pressure me.”

“Hey, man, I'm only doing my job.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sung said as he sat down at the bench. “I've heard that before. It's always followed by the crack of the whip.”

“Perhaps I could go with you instead.” Mark Grunard smiled at Sung. “Do you have any objections to a little publicity? It might help you get that job in California.”

Sung looked interested.

“No way,” Charlie said firmly. “I told you that you couldn't stay, Grunard.”

“But our friend doesn't like you as much as he does me.”

Charlie jerked his thumb. “Out.”

Grunard sighed. “Maybe I could come back after you've finished your work, Mr. Sung.” He handed him a card. “Call me.” He left the lab.

“The results are confidential, Mr. Sung,” Charlie said.

“Yeah.” Sung looked thoughtfully at the card before stuffing it in his pocket. “So were the atomic tests in Nevada that gave everybody cancer.”

“Please call me as soon as possible, Mr. Sung,” Eve said. “It means a great deal to me.”

“I'll let you know.”

“
WHAT DO YOU
think? Can he do it?” Joe asked as he and Eve got into the car.

“Maybe. He seems sharp.” She leaned back in the seat. “And I think he likes a challenge. Though Charlie may have a tough time. Sung evidently hates government bureaucrats.”

“Maybe you should introduce him to Sarah. So what do we do now?”

“Go home. Wait.”

“That won't be easy.”

“No.” It seemed as if they'd done nothing but sit around and wait lately. “But at least Spiro gave us a chance to hurry the process along.”

“He's taking a big risk dealing with us. He's impatient to have it over.”

“So am I, Joe.” She closed her eyes and tried to relax. “So am I.”

IT WAS NEARLY
three o'clock in the morning and the lights were still burning in the professor's lab on Blue Mountain Drive.

Eve must be happy she'd found someone passionate enough to work so hard on the photo, Dom thought. Passion could be dangerous.

But it could also be exciting. Every move Eve made was raising the stakes.

He probably should have gotten rid of that photo years ago, but he had moved on and he had not thought it important enough. But what was happening in that lab was important.

Time changed everything. Technology, morals, good, evil. Who would have known how much his needs would change? His priorities were so different now or he would not be sitting outside the lab.

What was happening in there? Were they getting close?

He felt excitement tighten his muscles. Go ahead, Eve. Come closer. Try to find me. . . .

“
MORE COFFEE?
” C
HARLIE
asked.

Billy Sung adjusted the computer. “Not right now.”

“You didn't eat dinner. I could go out and pick up some fast food.”

“No.” He was coming close. Screw those L.A. bozos with all their fancy equipment. He was as good as them any day of the week. Just a few more adjustments and he might—

“Are you getting it?”

“You bet I am.” He rubbed his eyes and bent forward again over the picture. “I wasn't sure I had a chance, but I'll be able to—” He stiffened. “My God.”

“You've got it?”

“Shut up. I have to check the shift.” He brought the picture in closer.

The shift was coming in clearer and then clearer still.

There could be no mistake.

THE PHONE RANG
on Eve's nightstand.

“We're on our way to see you,” Charlie said.

“What?”

“Sung wants to see you. He's all excited.”

She sat up in bed. “He did it?”

“Not yet. He says he'll be done any minute. He was muttering about shifts and spectrums and he's bringing you the photo. He won't let me see it while he's working on it, but I'll take possession the minute it's completely finished.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Search me,” Charlie said sourly. “He evidently thinks I'm the right arm of Big Brother. He made a phone call and then he said he had to see you right away. He seems to think this is only between you and him, but this is FBI business and he can't fool around with—Where the hell are you going?” He came back on the phone. “I've got to go. Sung must have finished. He just bolted for the front door. We should be there in thirty minutes.” He hung up.

“Sung was able to do it?” Joe asked.

“That's what Charlie said, but Sung wants to talk to me.” She put down the receiver and swung her feet to the floor. “He'll be here in thirty minutes with the photo. I'm going to get dressed.”

Joe sat up in bed. “Why should he want to talk to you?”

“I told you, he doesn't like the government.”

“Bad enough to wake you in the middle of the night?”

She headed for the bathroom. “I don't care if Sung comes up here and crawls in bed with us as long as he brings me that photo.”

“I'd have a few objections,” Joe said. “By all means, let's wait for him downstairs.”

“
WHERE IS HE?
” Eve glanced at her watch again. “It's been forty minutes.”

“Maybe they had to go back to the lab for something.”

“Wouldn't Charlie have called us?”

“Car trouble?”

“Stop being comforting. Do you have Charlie's digital number?”

Joe nodded and reached for his phone. “No answer.” He hung up. “It's time to go looking.”

“I'll go with you.”

“Stay here. What if all that comforting bullshit is really true and they drive up right after I've left? If they come, give me a call and I'll hotfoot it back.”