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"Thank God." She drew up her knees and linked her arms around them. "I hurt him, Joe."
"Logan's tough. He'll get over it. He knew you weren't going to be a sure thing when he lured you here."
"He didn't lure me here. He was trying to help."
Joe shrugged. "Maybe." He stood up and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the house. You've been out here long enough."
"How do you know?"
"I saw you run out. I've been waiting on the terrace."
"All this time?"
He smiled. "I didn't have any other pressing engagements. I figured you needed the time alone, but now you should go to bed."
He had stood there in the darkness, silent, strong, waiting patiently until he could help her. She suddenly felt stronger herself, more optimistic. "I'm not going back to the house but you can walk me back to the lab. I have some work to do and then I have to pack."
"Do you need help?"
She shook her head. "I can manage." She headed toward the small house a hundred yards away. "I've just been putting it off."
"Second thoughts?"
"You know better." She opened the door of the lab and turned on the light. "But sad thoughts. Regretful thoughts." She moved toward the computer on the desk. "Go away. I have to finish this age progression. It's been a long time for Libby's mother. She's almost given up hope."
"Nice place." Joe's gaze was wandering around the room, from the beige couch heaped with orange and gold pillows to the framed pictures on the bookcase. "You've made it yours. Where's the sculpture you've been working on?"
She nodded at the pedestal beside the large picture window. "Your bust is a work in progress. But there's a finished one of Mom in the armoire beside the door."
"My bust?" He stared at it. "Good God, it is me."
"Don't be flattered. I didn't have any models, and I know your face almost as well as I do my own."
"Jesus, I can see you do." He touched the bridge of the nose. "I never realized anyone noticed that little bump. I broke it playing football."
"You should have had it taken care of at the time."
He gri
"I tried. I couldn't do it. I just found myself staring at the clay." She adjusted her glasses and brought up the picture of Libby on the monitor. "Maybe later."
"But you think you can reconstruct the little girl's skull?"
He was being very careful not to refer to it as Bo
He strolled toward the door. "Try to get some sleep."
"After I finish the progression." She pulled up the photographs of Libby's mother and maternal grandmother. Study them. Don't think about Bo
Don't think about Bo
"TOO BAD YOUdon't have time to finish Joe," Bo
Eve turned over on the couch and saw Bo
"I have more important work to do now."
Bo
"Yeah, you think you've found me. I keep telling you I'm not there anymore. It's just a bunch of bones."
"Your bones?"
"How do I know? I don't remember any of that anymore. You wouldn't want me to remember."
"God, no." She paused. "But I think you know where he buried you. Why won't you tell me? I just want to bring you home."
"Because I want you to forget the way I died." Bo
"A dream."
"A ghost," Bo
"And then they'll lock me up in the nuthouse."
Bo
Eve smiled and nodded. "He'd cause a ruckus. I'd rather avoid the entire scenario if you don't mind."
"I don't mind. It's probably better that you don't tell anyone about me." She tilted her head. "It's kinda nice having these times all to ourselves. Like a very special secret. Remember the secrets we used to have? The time we surprised Grandma on her birthday with that trip to Callaway Gardens. We made her get in the car and then we took off. The flowers were so pretty that spring. Have you gone there since?"
Bo
"Stop that." Bo
"Yes, ma'am."
"You say it, but you don't mean it." She gazed back out at the sea. "You're glad to be leaving the island, aren't you?"