Iris Johansen - Blind Alley

“Then it should be easier to trace. Take it off.”

“No.”

“Jane.”

“No.” She pulled her hand away. “I'm wearing it. He's not going to think he's scared me. I'll wear it and I'll flaunt it as if it were only a pretty bauble a lover had given me.”

“Lover?”

“That's what Cira would do.” She smiled recklessly. “He thinks I'm Cira? Well, I'll act like Cira. She'd never let a murdering bastard make her cringe. She'd face him and taunt him and find a way to bring him down.”

“Would she?” Eve's gaze was narrowed on her face. “And how do you know that, Jane?”

“That's how Trevor describes her.” Jane shook her head. “No, I won't lie to you. I feel it.”

Eve was silent a moment. “Or did you dream it? You never told me the name of the woman in your dream. Was it Cira?”

Smart, savvy Eve. She should have known that the empathy between them was so intense that she'd sense what was going on in Jane's mind. “Yes.” She rushed on, “But that isn't— For all I know, I'm picking up Aldo's view of her or maybe Trevor's. It could be I read something sometime and I just don't remember doing it. Or maybe I am having psychic flashes. It's not likely, but I'd rather think that than that I'm nutty enough to believe I know Cira because of a dream.”

“I think you're protesting too much,” Eve said. “You don't have to make explanations to me. I thought we'd settled that issue.” She glanced down at the ring again. “Take it off.”

“I told you that—”

“I know what you told me,” Eve said curtly. “And I know it's waving a red cape at a bull. Take it off.”

“He'll think I'm afraid.”

“I don't care.”

“I care.” She could feel her throat tighten as she looked at Eve. Lord, this was hard. “I love you, Eve. I never want to do anything that will make you unhappy.”

“Then take it off.”

She shook her head. “You're wrong. We can't give in to him. I might even be able to draw him out and into making a mistake if I annoy him enough. Otherwise, if I take one step back, he'll take one step forward. And I won't be backed into a corner where he can hack my face off.” She saw Eve flinch and she hurried on, “I'm sorry. But that's what he wants. He wants me scared and on my knees. We can't give him that.”

“I'm not going to give him you either. Why don't—” Eve closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I'm wasting my time.” She opened her eyes and added wearily, “And maybe you're right. I don't know. But I do know if you're going to wave that ring under Aldo's nose we're going to make sure that you're as safe as you can be.” She headed for the phone. “I'm calling Joe. Take that ring off, get the digital camera, and take pictures of it so that he can try to locate who sold it to Aldo.”

“Eve—”

“I'm not angry with you.” Eve picked up the phone. “I'm just tired and frustrated and I want this maniac caught before he drives all of us crazy.” She smiled. “And, no, I'm not saying you're crazy. Obstinate, opinionated, yes. Now go take those photos.”

TWELVE

You're wrong, Jane,” Joe said curtly. “You're playing his game.”

“No, I'd be playing his game if I hid the ring away.” She met his gaze. “And you know it. You just don't want me to take chances. There's an opportunity here. If I was anyone else, you'd admit it.” She held out her hand. “Do you think I want to wear it? It makes me sick to my stomach. But it's the right thing to do.” She tossed the packet of photos down on the coffee table in front of him. “There are enough photos to start a search for the seller. Trevor said that he may have gotten the ring in Italy years ago.”

“We'll see.” His lips twisted. “As far as we know he didn't give any of the other victims jewelry. If he's been carrying it around that long evidently you're considered special.”

She made a face. “If I'm special, it's because I'm not a victim. And I won't be.”

“We hope,” Eve said.

“Think positive.” Jane moved toward her bedroom. “I'm going to bed now. If I stay here, you'll try to argue me out of it and that's not going to happen. It will only be hurtful. Good night, Joe.”

“Running away isn't going to stop me from—” He muttered a curse as her bedroom door closed gently but firmly behind her. “You talk her out of it, Eve. She listens to you.”

“I tried,” Eve said quietly. “She's not listening to anyone now. She thinks she's right and she's sticking to it.”

“She's only a kid, dammit.”

“Really? I believe we had this discussion weeks ago and you were telling me that she's never really been a kid and that was okay.”

“That was before we knew Aldo was on the scene. It's not okay now.”

“Too late.” Eve's faint smile was sad. “We might have had a chance of bringing a little springtime into her life before this happened, but not now. She's changed.”

“She's just gotten more obstinate.”

Eve shook her head. “She's formed. I've been watching it happen. She reminds me of one of my reconstructions. I work and I work and I know somewhere beneath my fingers everything is there but it's not ready to come out. Then all of a sudden, it all comes together.”

Joe was looking at her with a frown and she tried again. “It's like placing a fine piece of pottery in a kiln. When it goes in, it's soft and still malleable. When it comes out, everything has been burned away but what it is and is going to be forever. Aldo did that to her.” Her lips tightened. “May he burn in hell.”

“I'll second that.” Joe looked down at the photos. “He may not be close enough to her to know she's flaunting that thing.”

Eve raised her brows.

“Okay, wishful thinking.” He picked up the photos. “I'll fax these to the department and get busy on trying to backtrack that package from that Mail Boxes Unlimited in Carmel.”

“She's right, isn't she? Much as we hate it, it's an opportunity.”

He nodded as he headed for the fax machine. “Yes, dammit, she's right.”

The lamplight made the pale green vesuvianite flash and sparkle like the cold edge of a knife. Aldo liked knives, Jane thought.

Don't look at it. Don't think about what he did with those knives.

She turned out the light and tucked her hand beneath the covers. It didn't help. She could still see it burning, glittering in her mind's eye.

Then accept it. She'd made the decision and she had to live with it. She took her hand from beneath the covers and let it lie on top of the counterpane. Aldo had handled this ring. He'd touched it and looked at the glowing stone and thought about how it would disturb her. She could almost see him smiling and fondling it.

Well, it's mine now. And I won't let it be anything to me that I don't want it to be. So screw you, Aldo.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. She would not dream of Cira and she would not dream of Aldo. Close them out, rest, and gain strength and determination.

No, don't sleep. Think. Go over everything she knew about Aldo and find a way to bring him down. She was tired of hiding and letting him think he could terrorize her. The situation had to change. She had to make a move.

Sorry, Eve. . . .

The next morning Bartlett, as usual, was standing in front of the cottage. He smiled gently as Jane walked toward him. “Good morning. I hear there was a little disturbance with the mail last night.”

“A little. Where's Trevor?”

“With Matt Singer double-checking security. He should be here soon. You can reach him by cell phone if it's important.”

She shook her head. “I want to talk to him face-to-face.”