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She stared after him for a moment before she ruefully shook her head. She was tempted to go after him, but he could just wait until she got the call from Jane. Anticipation worked both ways.
She looked back down at the box and completed opening it. Then she carefully removed the plastic ties that held the skull in place and the protective plastic wrap around the skull itself. “Let’s see you,” she murmured as she took the skull in her hands. She always talked to these lost children when she first started the reconstructions. It seemed to aid her in making a co
If you discounted the crushed side of her right temple where her killer had struck the fatal blow.
She’d have to repair that immediately, so that she could concentrate on the actual reconstruction. Her fingers gently touched the crushed bones. “Bastard.” She felt a sudden surge of rage that was as intense as it was unusual. She always felt sad, but it was difficult to focus rage on a faceless predator. She was having no trouble focusing now. This child’s killer might only have been a shadow-figure, but it was malignant and evil and Eve felt as if she could reach out and touch him. “But I don’t think it could have hurt you for more than a few seconds. That’s a mercy. Though I’m sure he didn’t mean it to be.” She tossed the box in the trash and spent a few minutes setting up the skull on her worktable. “There you are. Now I’ll clean you up and start the measuring. I have to do a lot of measuring before I can start bringing you back the way you were. Were you a pretty little girl? Not that it matters. I’ve always liked interesting more than pretty anyway. I’ve had two children of my own in my life. My Bo
Je
Eve went still. Out of the blue, out of the darkness, those words had come to her. Weird. Imagination? Or had she been concentrating so hard on this little girl that the name had just popped into her head, and she’d mentally couched it in terms that the child might use. It didn’t matter. The name was there, and she might as well use it. “Je
* * *
Ringing.
Her cell phone was ringing, Eve realized vaguely with a
Shit! Jane! Three and a half hours had passed, and she hadn’t even realized it.
She grabbed her phone from her pocket and punched the access. “Jane! Hello. Has your flight landed?”
“Yes, I’m in a taxi on the way to my apartment. It took you long enough to answer. I was begi
“I was working. I just received a new reconstruction, and I was doing the preliminary measuring.”
“I should have known. You cut down your schedule while I was there recuperating, and you probably had to make up for lost time.” She paused. “I was a bother. I’m really sorry, Eve.”
“I’m not.” She got up from her worktable and moved across the room to the couch. “I loved every minute of having you with us. I wish you’d stayed twice as long. No, I wish you’d never go away.” She added quickly, “But I know that’s not practical. You have a career. So do I. We’ll work it out.” She changed the subject. “Good flight?”
“Smooth as glass. So is your new reconstruction a little boy or girl?”
“A little girl. Nine. Found in the vineyard country in California.”
“And what did you name her?”
“Je
“Pretty name. I’ve always liked it.”
“So have I. I guess. It just sort of fits her.”
Jane chuckled. “How can you tell? It’s a skull, for heaven’s sake.”
“I can tell.” She added, “She definitely wasn’t a Samantha.”
“Samantha? Where did that come from?”
“You’d have had to have been here.”
“And I’d just as soon not.” Jane paused. “I don’t know how you do it. So sad … Never being sure what you’re doing is going to help those children’s identities to be discovered.”
“I’ve had a good percentage over the years.”
“I know, and I admire you more than I can say. I call myself an artist, but it’s you who are the true artist, Eve. You create life from death.”
“Only the semblance. But sometimes that semblance can cause the bad guys to be caught and revenge exacted.” Her lips tightened as she looked at the reconstruction. “This little girl is so fragile-appearing. It makes you wonder how anyone could bear to hurt her. Yet that bastard crushed her head and—” She broke off. “For some reason, I couldn’t do the measuring until I’d done a temporary cosmetic fix on that wound. I was going to wait but it … bothered me.”
“Because you have a gentle heart. Why else would you have taken a street kid like me into your home?”
“Because that street kid was remarkable, and I knew that she’d light up our lives.” She added, “And you’re a very good artist, Jane. You have great vision. And it’s not of skulls or death.” She chuckled. “Far more socially acceptable. You must be close to your apartment. I’ll let you go. Thanks for calling.”
“My pleasure,” Jane said. “Truly. Good luck with your Je
“I think I will.” She added dryly, “She seems to have a young sheriff in California rooting for her. He says she wants to be found.”
“A psychic?”
“No, he just has a feeling. Good night, Jane.”
“It’s morning here. Have a good day.” She hung up.
Night here. Morning where Jane was living. It only pointed out how far apart they were.
Don’t think about it. They were together in their hearts.
Time to go to bed. She wanted to get up with Joe and have a cup of coffee with him before he left to go to the precinct.
She washed her hands and dried them on the towel she kept at her worktable. She turned off the work light. “We made a decent start, Je
No answer naturally.
The fragile bones of the skull shone in the glow of the overhead light. Eve moved toward the hall leading to their bedroom, then impulsively stopped and looked back at the reconstruction.
She looked … lonely.
Imagination.
It was a skull, for Pete’s sake. Eve had worked on hundreds of reconstructions, and she had never had that feeling with one before. Was she transferring her own sadness about Jane’s departure to the death of this little girl? It was possible, but she wasn’t going to look for psychological excuses for the strange feeling she’d had since she’d seen Je