Iris Johansen: Chasing the Night

“Do that.” It must have been something urgent for them to call Joe from his bed. Urgent sometimes meant dangerous. “As soon as you know. Bye…”

A few minutes later, she heard his car start outside and tried to settle down and go back to sleep. She didn’t think it was going to happen. She usually worked late, but her eyes were strained and stinging from trying to put together the shattered puzzle that was Cindy. She should rest her eyes even if she couldn’t doze off again.

Fifteen minutes later she gave it up and sat up in bed. The longer she stayed in bed, the more tense she became. She’d get up, grab a cup of coffee, and go back to work on Cindy. She slipped on her robe and left the bedroom.

Joe had evidently grabbed a cup of coffee to go because there was a light burning in the kitchen. She chose a coffee pod and punched the button on the Keurig.

“That’s interesting. I’ve never seen a coffeemaker like that. But then I haven’t been in a civilized part of the world for a long time. Does it make good coffee?”

A woman’s voice.

Eve whirled toward the shadows of her lab across the room. “What the hell-”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.” The woman who spoke was sitting on Eve’s stool in front of the reconstruction of Cindy. “I just have to talk to you.”

“The hell you do.” Her gaze raked the woman from head to toe. Thin, dressed in dark jeans and sweater. No apparent weapons. That was good. Joe had taught Eve how to defend herself in any hand-to-hand battle. “Get out and call me on the phone. How did you get in here anyway? Joe always sets the alarm.”

“He did this time, too. It’s a good alarm. It took me a little while to get past it after he left.” She was gazing wonderingly down at the shards of bone on the tarp. “Are you really going to be able to put this face back together?”

“Yes. Get out.”

“I’m not handling this right.” She looked away from the bones to Eve’s face. “It’s just that when I saw those bones, it blew me away. My name is Catherine Ling. Venable might have mentioned me. I work with him.”

“Venable?” Eve relaxed a little. The invasion was still totally unacceptable, but if she was associated with Venable, there was no physical threat. “No, he didn’t mention you.”

Catherine Ling grimaced. “He didn’t even get that far? The age progression. He did call you about it?”

“Yes, I told him to get someone else. I’m too busy.”

“I want you. I need you.”

“Too bad.” She picked up her cup of coffee. “You and your CIA can go take a flying leap. I don’t work on Venable’s orders.” She went to the front door and opened it. “Now get out.”

Catherine didn’t move. “I don’t want you to work for Venable. I don’t want you to work for the CIA. This has nothing to do with them. It’s my job. I knew you had a relationship with Venable, and I thought if I could get him to offer it to you, that it would be easier to get you to do it.”

“Wrong.” She jerked her head at the open door. “Don’t come back. Next time, I’ll call the police.”

Catherine slowly rose to her feet. “Will you listen to me?”

“I might have listened to you if you hadn’t invaded my home like a cat burglar. Now you don’t have a chance in hell.”

“I was in a hurry. I didn’t want to have to argue with you. I thought if I hit the ground running, the shock would get us down to basics early.”

“Don’t come back.”

Catherine moved toward the door. “I will come back. It’s something I have to do. I’ll come back time and time again until you listen to me.” She passed Eve and went out onto the porch. “And until you do, I’ll sit out here and wait.”

“Not in my house, not on my porch, not on my property.”

“Here. You’ll have to stumble over me.” Catherine sank gracefully down on the floor and crossed her legs tailor fashion. “Until you listen.”

Eve gazed at her in frustration. Early dawn light was now filtering onto the porch and dimly illuminating the woman. Catherine Ling looked to be in her late twenties. She was tall, thin, with small breasts and long legs. Straight, shoulder-length dark hair framed a face that was an interesting mixture of Western and Asian characteristics. High cheekbones and faintly tilted dark eyes contrasted with full lips and a square chin. Her brows were as dark as her hair and slightly winged over those large, intense eyes.

Everything about Catherine spoke of intensity, Eve thought. She was surrounded by it, burning with it. “I’m not about to stumble over you. I’ll either throw you out myself or call the police.”

“Then I’d have to fight. I’m very good at fighting. Someone would get hurt. Wouldn’t it be better just to listen to me?”

Eve slammed the door shut and locked it.

She hadn’t handled the situation well, Catherine thought.

She had been caught off guard. When Eve had come into the room, everything else had flown from her mind. She had waited so long…

Then Eve had been there before her, angry, wary. Her shoulder-length red-brown hair slightly mussed from sleep, her hazel eyes glaring at her in the lamplight. Catherine had seen photos of Eve in magazines, but she was more than she’d expected. Her thin face wasn’t pretty, but it was fascinating and full of character. Everything about her spoke of alertness, vitality, and intelligence.

And there had been no fear. Eve should have been at least a little afraid.

Was it because she dealt with the results of death every day?

Oh, for heaven’s sake, this was no time to try to analyze Eve Duncan’s reactions.

She would just sit here and wait. No matter how long it took.

She would wait until Eve came back to her.

She’d just ignore the woman, Eve thought, after she’d locked the door. Maybe she’d go away.

No, she wouldn’t. Catherine Ling would stay out there until hell froze over. Eve had seen that passionate intensity before.

In her own mirror.

She took a swallow of her coffee and turned and walked toward her worktable, where Catherine had been sitting when Eve had walked into the room. If the woman had disturbed any of her carefully placed bone fragments, she’d murder her.

Somehow, she didn’t believe she would be that slipshod. Catherine Ling didn’t impress her as someone who would be careless about anything.

No, everything was exactly as Eve had left it.

She reached out and gently touched a splinter of bone. “Sorry, Cindy, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I have to take care of this idiotic problem now.”

And how to do that?

Call the police as she’d threatened?

No, she believed Catherine Ling when she’d told her that she’d fight. This was Eve’s home, and she didn’t want violence to enter it. The outside world was too violent, and this was her haven.

But she would get rid of the woman.

She took out her cell phone, checked the number, then dialed.

“Venable, what the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m out of it. I take it that Catherine has paid you a visit?”

“Right now she’s sitting on my porch looking like a patient Buddha. She won’t go away.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No, I threw her out. For heaven’s sake, she invaded my house like a thief in the night.”

“She can be impatient. It might be better if you let her talk to you. She won’t go away. You can starve her, you can beat her, and she’ll still be there.”

Her hand clenched on the phone. “Then you tell her to get out. You’re CIA, she’s CIA, there has to be something you can do.”

“She’s obsessed. You can’t deal with obsession in any normal manner.”