Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

Yet there had been that slight flash of humor when she had been talking about Jock.

Jane opened her door and looked around her high-ceilinged chamber. It looked the same as the last time she had stayed here. Ancient tapestries, large-scaled, comfortable furniture. Lina was wrong. Rich, yes, but there was nothing cold about this room or any other room at MacDuff’s Run.

Cold was generated by the people who lived in a place. The MacDuffs who had lived and loved in this castle had never been cold. Lina would just have to learn that truth.

And Jane would have to stop fretting over Lina and take her shower before Mrs. Dalbrey got here with her meal. As she headed for the bathroom, she noticed the two boxes of books that Jock had mentioned against the far wall. She felt a surge of anticipation.

She had work to do.

CALEB KNOCKED ON EVE’S door a little over an hour later.

Her brows lifted when she opened the door. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Caleb? I thought you were busy sparring with MacDuff over security arrangements.”

“It didn’t take that long. MacDuff isn’t going to listen to anyone’s opinion or suggestions about his castle and his people. I knew that the minute I met him. But I had to know what the setup was, and it was a way we could take each other’s measure.” He shrugged. “But his security appears to be top-notch. You don’t have to be concerned. May I come in?”

She hesitated. “Why? I’m working.”

“I want to talk to you. I thought it was a good opportunity. Jane is busy on the Internet and Lina is barricaded in that Laird’s chamber, translating.” He smiled. “And it doesn’t surprise me that she doesn’t appreciate castle life.”

“It’s really not my cup of tea either.” Eve hesitated, then stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. “But MacDuff has been very gracious… in his way.”

“You bring that quality out in most people,” Caleb said as he came into the room. “Even I feel the stirrings when I’m with you. Amazing.”

“Bullshit. You’re a chameleon. You’re what you want to be. And I don’t mean that freakish gift of yours. You study the situation and adapt. Now sit down and tell me why you’re here.”

“Blunt and insightful.” He grinned as he dropped into a chair. “I’ve missed you, Eve.”

“You barely knew me. We were only together for the short time we were forced to work at finding that serial killer that we were both after. And it was Jane who drew you like a moth to a flame. It worried me.” She stared directly into his eyes. “It still does.”

“Do you want me to reassure you?” He thought about it. “No, I won’t lie. You should be worried. If it’s any comfort, I’m worried about it, too. I don’t like the thought of destroying her, even hurting her.”

“Go away, Caleb. You’ve done what you promised Jane you’d do. Now leave her alone.”

“I can’t,” he said simply. “The moth to the flame. You’re right, she draws me. I don’t know why. Or maybe I do, and I don’t want to admit it.”

“Hurt her, and I’ll kill you,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

“Why are you here, Caleb?”

“The dreams.”

“What?”

“She has dreams, not the usual dreams. She dreamed about the man in the Guilt painting. I need to know everything there is to know about those dreams.”

“Then go ask Jane.”

“She won’t talk to me about them.” He smiled sardonically. “You’d think that she didn’t have complete trust in me, wouldn’t you? I don’t see why. Do you suppose it’s because she can see more than I want anyone to see? No, she’s not going to tell me anything. She thinks I’m weird, and she doesn’t want to be grouped under the same umbrella. She’s fighting admitting that those dreams are a little on the fey side.”

“Yes, she would. Jane has problems accepting anything that’s not solid and completely no-nonsense.”

“But you have no such problem,” he said softly. “That’s why I came to you.”

“And why should I tell you something that Jane wouldn’t?”

“Because I believe the dreams are the key. I can’t help her until I can unlock the puzzle.”

Eve was silent, gazing at him. “Jane is right, you are weird, and I’m not sure that I should give you any keys. You find out entirely too much on your own.”

“But I haven’t broken the code and gone in and made Jane tell me. That should count for something.”

“Since I have an idea that your code is superflexible, I haven’t got much faith in it.”

“I didn’t yield to temptation. I was tempted, Eve.”

“And I should give you a reward?”

He smiled. “Please.”

She shook her head. “You’re a formidable man, Caleb.”

“But you’re going to help me. For Jane’s sake.”

“Is it for Jane’s sake?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “That I can promise you. It’s all for Jane, Eve.”

She believed him. He was complex, convoluted, and the chameleon she had called him; but he was telling the truth about wanting to help Jane.

And Lord knows she wanted Jane to have all the help that she could get, no matter where it came from.

She turned away and looked out the window. “I don’t know a lot about the dreams. You’re talking about those special dreams. Right? Jane didn’t confide much, and I didn’t push her. Some of it I found out later, and some I’m sure she’s never told me.”

“When did they start?”

Eve had no trouble remembering when she’d first become aware of them. “She was seventeen. She began to have dreams that were different from the usual run that most of us experience.”

“Like a story unfolding.”

She glanced at him. “It seems she did tell you a little about them. I’m surprised.”

“And suspicious. I did push a little, but I backed away. And I told her I’d done it.”

“How admirable,” she said ironically.

“I thought so. What were the dreams about?”

“Cira, an actress who lived in ancient Herculaneum. The dreams were so real that Jane started to investigate the possibility that Cira had actually existed. She thought that she might have run across something in a book or the Internet that could have triggered the dreams. She was a student, and that made the idea at least plausible.”

“That sounds like Jane. Explore every possibility based in reality before even considering anything psychic.”

“It’s what I would have done. Jane and I are a lot alike.”

“Yes, but there are differences that make both of you fascinating. Was there a Cira?”

“Oh, yes. She was quite famous in her day. There were even statues sculpted of her.” She paused. “And she looked remarkably like Jane.”

“Really? That must have shaken her.”

Eve smiled. “Not Jane. Or at least she wouldn’t admit it. She says everyone has a double somewhere.”

“But she was interested enough to search out everything she could find about this Cira?”

“She had no choice. She’d opened a can of worms when she started probing. Cira had possessed a chest of ancient gold coins that would have been worth millions, perhaps billions. When Jane started the search, it attracted the attention of a criminal, Thomas Reilly, who went on the attack. Jane had to dig in and find out everything she could just to survive.”

“Billions?” Caleb repeated thoughtfully. “Millions I can understand for ancient gold coins. But not billions. Why?”

“There were certain rumors.” She met his gaze. “That there were other coins in the chest. Coins brought by Cira’s slave when he came from Jerusalem.”

Caleb stiffened. “Jerusalem.”

She nodded. “The Judas coins.”