"Good night, Eve." He stopped at the pedestal and looked
at the skull. "You know, he's beginning to grow on me."
"She's a girl."
His smile faded. "Sorry. It wasn't funny. I guess we all
have our own way of dealing with what we become after
death."
"Yes, we do. But sometimes we have to face it before we
should. Mandy wasn't over twelve years old."
"Mandy? You know who she was?"
She hadn't meant to let that slip. What the hell, it
didn't matter. "No, but I usually give them names. Aren't
you glad now that I turned you down? You wouldn't want an
eccentric like me working on your skull."
"Oh, yes, I appreciate eccentrics. Half the men in my
think tanks in San Jose are a little off center." He moved
toward the door. "By the way, that computer you're using
is three years old. We have a newer version that's twice
as fast. I'll send you one."
"No, thank you. This one works fine."
"Never refuse a bribe if you don't have to sign on the
dotted line for return favors." He opened the door. "And
never leave your doors unlocked, as you did tonight.
There's no telling who could have been waiting in here for
you."
"I lock the lab up at night, but it would be inconvenient
to keep it locked all the time. Everything in here has
been insured, and I know how to protect myself."
He smiled. "I bet you do. I'll call you."
"I told you that I'm--"
She was talking to air; he'd already closed the door
behind him.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Not that she had the
slightest doubt she would hear from him again. She had
never met a man more determined to get his own way. Even
when his approach hadbeen velvet soft, the steel had shown
through. Well, she had dealt with powerhouse types before.
All she had to do was stick to her guns and John Logan
would eventually get discouraged and leave her alone.
She stood up and went over to the pedestal. "He can't be
so smart, Mandy. He didn't even know you were a girl." Not
that many people would have.
The desk phone rang.
Mom? She had been having trouble with the ignition on her
car lately.
Not her mother.
"I remembered something just as I reached the car," Logan
said. "I thought I'd throw it into the pot for you to
consider with the original deal."
"I'm not considering the original deal."
"Five hundred thousand for you. Five hundred thousand to
go to the Adam Fund for Missing and Runaway Children. I
understand you contribute a portion of your fees to that
fund." His voice lowered persuasively. "Do you realize how
many children could be brought home to their parents with
that amount of money?"
She knew better than he did. He couldn't have offered a
more tempting lure. My God, Machiavelli could have taken
lessons from him.
"All those children. Aren't they worth two weeks of your
time?"
They were worth a decade of her time. "Not if it means
doing something criminal."
"Criminal acts are often in the eyes of the beholder."
"Bullshit."
"Suppose I promise you that I had nothing to do with any
foul play connected with the skull."
"Why should I believe any promise you make?"
"Check me out. I don't have a reputation for lying."
"Reputation doesn't mean anything. People lie when it
means enough to them. I've worked hard to establish my
career. I won't see it go down the drain."
There was silence. "I can't promise you that you won't
come out of this without a few scars, but I'll try to
protect you as much as I can."
"I can protect myself. All I have to do is tell you no."
"But you're tempted, aren't you?"
Christ, she was tempted.
"Seven hundred thousand to the fund."
"No."
"I'll call you tomorrow." He hung up the phone.
Damn him.
She replaced the receiver. The bastard knew how to push
the right buttons. All that money channeled to find the
other lost ones, the ones who might still be alive . . .
Wouldn't it be worth a risk to see even some of them
brought home? Her gaze went to the pedestal. Mandy might
have been a runaway. Maybe if she'd had a chance to come
home she wouldn't . . .
"I shouldn't do it, Mandy," she whispered. "It could be
pretty bad. People don't fork out over a million dollars
for something like this if they're even slightly on the up-
and-up. I have to tell him no."
But Mandy couldn't answer. None of the dead could answer.
But the living could, and Logan had counted on her
listening to the call.
Damn him.
Logan leaned back in the driver's seat, his gaze on Eve
Duncan's small clapboard house.
Was it enough?
Possibly. She had definitely been tempted. She had a
passionate commitment to finding lost children and he had
played on it as skillfully as he could.
What kind of man did that make him? he thought wearily.
A man who needed to get the job done. If she didn't
succumb to his offer, he'd go higher tomorrow.
She was tougher than he'd thought she'd be. Tough and
smart and perceptive. But she had an Achilles' heel.
And there was no doubt on earth that he would exploit it.
"He just drove off," Fiske said into his digital
phone. "Should I follow him?"
"No, we know where he's staying. He saw Eve Duncan?"
"She was home all evening and he stayed over four hours."
Timwick cursed. "She's going to go for it."
"I could stop her," Fiske said.
"Not yet. She has friends in the police department. We
don't want to make waves."
"The mother?"
"Maybe. It would certainly cause a delay at least. Let me
think about it. Stay there. I'll call you back."
Scared rabbit, Fiske thought contemptuously. He could hear
the nervousness in Timwick's voice. Timwick was always
thinking, hesitating instead of taking the clean, simple
way. You had to decide what result you needed and then
just take the step that would bring that result. If he had
Timwick's power and resources, there would be no limit to
what he could do. Not that he wanted Timwick's job. He
liked what he did. Not many people found their niche in
life as he had.
He rested his head on the back of the seat, staring at the
house.
It was after midnight. The mother should be returning
soon. He'd already unscrewed the porch light. If Timwick
called him right away, he might not have to go into the
house.
If the prick could make up his mind to do the smart,
simple thing and let Fiske kill her.