Iris Johansen - Blood Game

“Holy shit.” Jane’s eyes widened. “What’s happening? You said that was a ritual killing.”

“We don’t know. We’re trying to trace Jelak’s past and find out what we have to deal with,” she said. “He was in Bloomburg at the same time we were. But not with Kistle. He was standing on the sidelines and watching. He even went to a gym while he was there.”

“Creepy. A health nut?”

“Maybe.” She suddenly remembered something Joe had told her about Nancy Jo’s description of her murderer. “But Nancy Jo’s killer had huge biceps, like a weight lifter’s.”

“How do you know? Was there a witness?”

“Sort of. But if Jelak was a fitness addict, it would explain how he felt compelled to work out at a gym.”

“What do you mean? ‘Sort of’?” Jane said. “You’re not telling me everything.”

Eve should have known that Jane would pick up on any discrepancy. “I’m telling you everything I can. Ask Joe.”

“I will.” Jane rose to her feet. “This time I’m not going to be left out in the cold.” She held up her hand as Eve started to speak. “I’m not blaming you. I trust you. You have to have your reasons. I’ll just find out what’s happening on my own.” She gave Eve a quick hug. “But right now I have a dinner date with Patty. We’re going to an Italian restaurant near her house. She doesn’t want to be gone too long.” She made a face. “Or she’ll catch hell later from her grandfather.”

“Charming.” Eve hesitated. “Go ahead. But I’m going to call Joe and have a police car over at Patty’s to follow you home.”

“I can take care of myself, Eve,” Jane said. “You know Joe taught me the fine art of self-defense when I was just a kid. I can do anything from karate to sharpshooting.”

“So I’m a worrywart,” she said. “You notice I’m not trying to make you stay home. I know better. But I just want to make sure that you have a little extra protection.”

“Whatever.” Jane smiled as she went out on the porch. “I’ll probably be home by ten. If my plans change, I’ll give you a call.” She waved and ran down the steps. “Bye. See you later.” She stopped as she looked up at the darkening sky. “It looks like a storm is coming, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Eve gazed out at the lake, which was already being whipped by the wind. “I think you’re right. It’s on its way.”

HUGE RAINDROPS WERE STRIKINGhis cheeks as Jelak sprinted deeper into the trees where he’d hidden his Lincoln. He didn’t mind. Storms made his heart beat harder and filled him with exhilaration. All the precious gift blood from Nancy Jo Norris was pounding through his veins.

He hadn’t expected his opportunity to come this quickly. Jane MacGuire was leaving alone, and the police car would remain to protect Eve and the cottage. He had crept close to the cottage and bugged both cars last night. Even if the woman had a slight head start, he’d be able to locate her.

But it was going to be hard to keep from taking her gift immediately. His hunger was growing, burning, and Jane MacGuire would be able to sate it. The blood that ran through her would be strong and full of life. He could always tell…

You weren’t enough, Nancy Jo. But the blood you gave me will give me the strength to reach out and grasp what I need.

That’s how the game is played.

Gift to Gift.

JOE DIDN’T GET HOME UNTILclose to seven that evening. It was still raining, and drops were running down his face after he got out of the car and ran up the porch steps.

Eve handed him a towel as he came in the door. “It’s a real gully washer, isn’t it? You can hardly see. I hope it quits by the time Jane leaves the restaurant.”

“You shouldn’t have let her go.” He dried his face and hair before tossing the towel on the counter. “The rain may be the least of her worries.”

“I can’t keep her penned up.” Eve turned back to the stove. “You know that, Joe. We just have to make her as safe as we can. I had the police officer who is following her call me from the restaurant. So far, so good.” She turned the slow cooker off. “I made a Mexican stew. It’s hot enough to chase the chill away.” She made a face. “Which is good in more ways than one.”

“Yes.” He glanced at the small skull set up on the pedestal across the room in her work area. It appeared very fragile surrounded by all the high-tech cameras and monitors that comprised her lab. “You’ve started to work? Who sent you the skull?”

“Your captain. It arrived about an hour ago. It’s one of the children on the island. A little boy. After all the publicity in the past few days, you’d think they would have been able to ID him.”

“Most of those kills were a long time ago. What are you calling him?”

“Matt.” She always named the skull she was currently working on. It seemed less impersonal, and she needed that connection. These murdered children who had just been tossed in the ground filled her with immense sadness. The skulls sent to her were those of children who were completely unknown to the local police departments. They had to have a starting place before they could begin DNA testing and matching. It was her job to take the skull and build a close enough resemblance so that it could be photographed, published in the media, and, hopefully, be recognized by friends or relatives. She took down two bowls from the cabinet. “Long time or not, I would have been calling nonstop if I knew there were unidentified bodies in those graves.”

“Not everyone is you, Eve. Some people have managed to move on.”

“I know. I’m happy for them.” She shrugged. “Maybe when I do finish Matt, they won’t thank me for stirring up the memories again.”

“They’ll thank you. Closure is a great gift.” He sat down at the table. “I wish I could give it to you.” He paused. “I called Montalvo today.”

“I know. He phoned and filled me in.”

“I thought maybe he would.”

She gazed at him a long moment. “You’re not angry.”

“I won’t let myself be angry. I can’t afford it, any more than I can afford jealousy. You and I have gone way past that point, haven’t we?”

“I suppose we have.” But his cool assessment and realization of the situation was not like that of the emotion-charged man she had known lately. It made her feel uneasy. “He said you’d agreed to let him in on anything you found out about Jelak.”

“I will.” He picked up his spoon. “I had the sheriff in Bloomburg go into Gold’s Gym and get a description of Jelak. About five-foot-nine, Roman nose, dark hair with white sideburns, very muscular.”

“Nancy Jo,” Eve whispered.

“Yes, he fits her description. We have a very observant ghost.” He lowered his gaze to the stew. “You said I was a rock. Well, the rock gets a deeper crack running across it every time something like this happens. I just have to hold on and keep it from shattering.” He lifted his eyes to her face. “But I will do it, Eve.”

“I know you will.” She sat down across from him. She could feel the strength and determination he was emitting as if it were a living force. Those qualities had never changed. From the time she had met him all those years ago, he had been a bastion of strength. She remembered breaking down and clinging to him in those weeks after Bonnie had been taken. Even at that time, she’d had moments of feeling safe and treasured in a barren world.

He should have seemed more vulnerable now. His brown hair was damp and a little mussed. His tea-colored eyes were older and a little weary. His face was thinner, the bones more pronounced. He didn’t look vulnerable. He reminded her of the portrait of a gladiator she had seen in a gallery she had visited with Jane in California. The man had been leaning against a sun-baked wall, relaxed and at rest, but the leashed strength had been clearly visible, only waiting to break free.