on the job he did for us.'
'Then how long?'
'Four weeks minimum.'
'No. I’d go crazy. I have to know.' She drew a deep breath. 'Will they let me reconstruct her face?'
'Are you sure you want to?'
'Of course I want to.' Seeing Bonnie’s face come to life beneath her hands… 'It’s going to be traumatic for you.'
'I don’t care.'
'I do,' he said roughly. 'I don’t like to see you bleed.”
“I won’t bleed.'
'The hell you won’t. You’re bleeding now.”
“I have to do it, Joe.'
'I know.' He looked out at the sea. 'That’s why I came.'
'Can you get them to let me do it?'
“I’ve already set it up.”
“Thank God.'
'It could be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
“No, it’s the right thing, the kind thing.'
'Bullshit.' He started back for the house. 'It’s probably the single most selfish thing I’ve done in my life.'
'What do you know about the killings?'
'I’ll fill you in on the details on the plane. I have tickets for both of us on a flight tomorrow afternoon from Tahiti. Is that too soon?'
'No.' Logan. She had to tell Logan. 'I’ll pack tonight.”
“After you tell Logan.'
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'Yes.'
'I could tell him.'
'Don’t be stupid. Logan deserves to hear it from me.”
“Sorry. You’re a little overwrought. I only meant to—
'What a puny word. Southern belles are overwrought. Scarlett O’Hara might be overwrought.
I’m not overwrought.'
He smiled. 'Well, you’re better than you were a few minutes ago.' Was she? The dread of facing Logan and telling him she was leaving had superseded other emotions, but as soon as the job was done and she was alone, the pain would come flooding back.
Then face it. Let the pain come. She had faced it for years. She could face it again. She could face anything now.
She had a chance to bring Bonnie home.
PHOENIX, ARIZONA Don placed the candle in Debby Jordan’s hand and rolled her into the grave he’d dug for her.
He had hurt her. He’d thought he’d evolved beyond the primitive need for the victim’s pain. But in the middle of the kill he’d suddenly realized he wasn’t feeling enough and he’d panicked.
He’d pierced and torn in a frenzy of frustration. If the pleasure of the kill disappeared, what was left for him? How could he go on living?
Smother the panic. It would be all right. He had always known this day would come, and the problem was not unsolvable. He just had to find a way to bring freshness and challenge back to the kill.
Debby Jordan was not a portent of the ultimate boredom and deadness he feared most. It didn’t matter that he had hurt her.
Dammit, she had hurt him.
Eve gazed out at the surf gently rushing against the shore. She’d run out to the beach after she’d spoken to Logan hours ago, and she’d been sitting there ever since, trying to regain her composure.
There was already so much pain inflicted by strangers in this world; why did she have to hurt someone she cared about?
'You told him?'
She turned her head to see Joe standing a few yards away. 'Yes.” The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
