Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

EVE WAS WAITING AT THE HELIPAD at MacDuff’s Run when their helicopter landed at sunset. The wind was blowing her red-brown hair back from her face and her fine white shirt against her body. Her feet were spread slightly apart, bracing against the tornado caused by the rotors.

She looked fragile and strong at the same time, Jane thought as she opened the door. And totally indomitable, like a tree that could bend but never break. A rock in the middle of chaos.

“Eve!” She jumped out of the aircraft and ran toward her.

“It’s about time.” Eve hugged her close, then pushed her back to look at her. “You’re tired.”

“It’s been a rough few days. Is everything okay with you?”

“As well as could be expected.”

“Is Joe still here?”

She shook her head. “In Rome with Venable. Discovering all kinds of nasty things about Millet. The more I heard, the happier I was to hear that you were coming here.” She looked beyond Jane. “Hello, Caleb. Should I thank you for taking care of Jane? Or do you have an agenda?”

“Maybe my agenda is taking care of Jane.” He smiled and took Eve’s hand. “How suspicious you are. But always interesting and a delight.” His gaze went over the massive castle perched above the stormy sea. “It’s quite a place. A fortress.”

“Yes, MacDuff’s family has a history of needing fortresses.” She gazed at MacDuff, who was striding toward them. “But he couldn’t have been kinder or more protective of me.”

“It was my pleasure.” MacDuff was scowling at Jane. “You’re not forgiven, you know.”

“I don’t ask for your forgiveness, MacDuff. I did what I thought best.” She looked at Eve. “But I thank you for keeping Eve and Joe safe.”

“There was no question about that.” His gaze was focused on Caleb. “You’re Seth Caleb? Jock told me some rather bizarre things about you. But I have an idea he still skated over a good many details. Jane thought you would prove valuable to her. Have you?”

“Yes and no.” He smiled. “But at any rate, I account only to her. Ask Jane.”

“I prefer to find out on my own.”

“There are a few things I’d like to find out myself. I’ve been told how secure you are here. Have you seen any signs of Millet?”

“Possible surveillance in the hills.” His gaze went to the rolling hills in the distance. “More than possible. We’re keeping our eyes open.”

“You haven’t sent anyone up there to scout?”

“Of course I have. Signs but no sightings.”

“Who have you got to check it out? What kind of experience?”

“Tim Mactaggert. Royal Marines veteran. Special Forces.” His gaze narrowed. “And I’m the one who is supposed to be questioning you. I believe that we should have a chat.” He gestured for Caleb to precede him. He glanced at Jane. “Will I see you at dinner?”

“Probably not. If Jock managed to get the reference books I needed.”

“You’ll have to ask him. He’s been running around getting Lina Alsouk settled. You’d think I didn’t have a housekeeper.”

“How is Mrs. Dalbrey?”

“The same. A little older, like the rest of us. But that young scamp of a son keeps her bustling. I’ll tell her to serve you in your room.” He turned away. “Coming?”

“Not yet,” Eve said. “We’re going to walk down to the Run. It’s become one of my favorite places since I came here. I want some time with Jane.”

“Is it safe?” Jane asked MacDuff.

“Would I have let her go, if it wasn’t? You’ll be watched from the gates. I’ll see you when you get back to the castle.”

“You’re very careful about my safety,” Eve said dryly, as they started for the path that led around the castle. “But going to see Roland today wasn’t very safe.”

“It was a calculated risk, but meeting with him wasn’t all that dangerous considering that he’s so careful of his image.” She made a face. “It’s not as if he’d rig a trapdoor in his office to spring when an enemy walked through the door. I guarantee that he’s no comic-book-type character.”

“Ugly?”

“In his way as ugly as Millet. But it’s all inside. Neither one of them looks like what he is. I meant to send you a photo of Millet.”

“Joe sent me one when he got Rome, along with photos of a few of Millet’s men in the Sang Noir.”

“You said Joe has been finding out unsavory details about Millet. Anything that I should know about?”

Eve shook her head. “Nothing that has a connection with you.”

“What about Alan Roland? We’ve heard about his public image. We don’t know anything about his personal life.”

Eve frowned, trying to remember. “He’s in his forties. He owns two racehorses. He likes women. He’s been divorced three times. None of his wives appears to have been heavy in the IQ department. No children. He wields a lot of influence. He dabbles in politics, but he’s never run for any office. It’s all behind the scenes.” She shrugged. “But he doesn’t seem as much of a threat as Millet.”

“You’re discounting him. You’re saying he doesn’t give the impression of being a force to reckon with. That’s an asset in itself.”

Eve nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess it is.” She looked at Jane. “This is the bastard who sent your photo to Millet? He just threw you to that maniac like a fish to a shark?”

“You could choose a kinder comparison,” Jane said. “Millet may be a shark, but I’m no helpless, flopping fish. But, yes, Roland sent my photo to Millet.”

Eve’s lips tightened. “Then the bastard is totally without a conscience.” They had reached the edge of the steep cliff that bordered the back of the castle, and she was gazing thoughtfully down at the waves crashing against the limestone over a hundred feet below them. “It always surprises me when I run into people like Roland. It shouldn’t, I suppose. It’s not that I haven’t dealt with my share of monsters.”

“I know.” Jane had watched her battle against those monsters while searching for the killer of her child, Bonnie. She’d had to stand by, wanting desperately to help and not being able to do anything. “But you’ve always had hope. You want people to be good, to do the right thing.”

“Yes, I do. And I have to believe that most people are good. Life wouldn’t be worth living if I didn’t.” She changed the subject. “I do like this place. I never realized why they called this place the Run.” Her gaze wandered around the rough rocks that formed a theaterlike circle around a stretch of green grass. “MacDuff told me that once a year his ancestors hosted games here and invited all the warriors in Scotland to participate. I can almost see those strong, bare-chested lads in kilts running across the green.”

“So can I.” Jane sat down on one of the rocks. “It was my first thought when I saw it a few years ago.” She smiled. “I should have known you’d feel the same way.”

“Yes, we generally have the same response.” Eve sat down beside her and linked her hand with Jane’s. “From the time you were a kid fighting everyone on your block. But I’m surprised that the MacDuffs built this castle on the edge of the cliff. It’s a beautiful view, but you’d think that they’d want an escape route since they were a warrior clan.”

“You’re right, the MacDuffs always thought about the safety of the clan first. But they managed to get around the problem of this cliff. They wouldn’t have built the castle here if they hadn’t worked out an escape route. But I’m sure they were relieved they could have their fortress here and enjoy having this to look at every evening.”

The rays of the setting sun were burnishing the waves far below them, and Jane could feel the cool breeze touch her cheeks. Peace was flowing over her, and she was aware that all the tension and desperation of the last days was beginning to ebb away. How many times had she sat on the porch at the lake with Eve, enveloped in this same sense of peace and contentment?