She gave him a blank stare. 'I don’t know what you mean.' He chuckled. 'He also said you’d deny it.'
'Logan has nothing to do with this. Leave him out—'
'I brought you a glass of milk, Eve.' Jane was standing in the doorway. 'Mrs. Carboni used to say that milk settled her stomach after she ate spicy food.'
'I don’t like being compared to Mrs. Carboni.' She smiled as she took the milk. 'But thanks anyway.'
'No offense.' Jane smiled back at her. 'I used to sneak jalapeno juice in everything she ate. It’s The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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pretty hard to tell in spaghetti sauce. Sometimes the milk didn’t help and she’d be up all night throwing up.'
Eve laughed. 'Good.'
'This milk’s safe. I wouldn’t do that to you.'
'My, my,' Mark murmured. 'I believe our little chickadee has mellowed.'
Jane gave him a cool glance.
'Or maybe not.' Mark smiled. 'How are you, Jane?”
“I’m no chickadee.' She left the room.
'Ouch.' Mark wrinkled his nose. 'It seems you’re the only one she’s tolerating these days.'
'I’d have snubbed you too if you’d been that patronizing toward me. She’s been holding up better than anyone could expect. She’s been wonderful.'
'Okay, okay.' He held up his hands in surrender. 'I see the two of you are presenting a united front. I think I’d better go find Quinn, get him to fill me in on what’s been going on. It’s safer.
Where’s the office?'
'Second door on your left,' she said curtly.
He glanced back at her from the door. 'Dom’s done it, hasn’t he? The kid’s gotten to you.'
'Don’t be stupid. We’re just used to each other, that’s all. We live together.' He shook his head.
'Then Dom had better never see you with her. He might make the same mistake I did.'
Chill iced through her. Had the growing bond been that obvious? 'He won’t see her with me.'
'Then that’s okay.' Mark left the room.
It wasn’t okay. If Mark had made the connection so easily, maybe anyone would be able to see it also. She wouldn’t let it happen. She would never take Jane from the house. Still she felt shaken and scared and a little sick. She needed warmth and life and—
Joe.
No, she couldn’t go running to Joe.
Jane and Sarah were in the kitchen. She’d go there and sit down at the table and listen to them talk and laugh. She’d pet Monty and then maybe she’d call her mother. She’d keep busy and try not to think of the photograph or Dom or anything but the precious things in life.
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And soon the chill would go away.
The red-haired doll stared up at Eve with glassy brown eyes. Its porcelain throat was cut from ear to ear.
'It was in the driveway. Someone must have tossed it through the gate,' Herb Booker said quietly. 'The video camera at the gate went out and Juan found the doll when he went to check it. The camera lens had been shattered. Probably a shot from a long-range weapon, since the camera didn’t pick up anything. I was going to call Mr. Logan, but I thought you should see this first.'
'Yes,' she said numbly.
'It wasn’t there when Mr. Quinn or Mr. Grunard left earlier. I checked the gate myself.' He hesitated. 'It’s a little girl doll.'
'I can see that.'
Bonnie.
Jane.
'It’s nasty. I think we should call someone.”
“I’ll take care of it.'
'No offense, ma’am, but it could mean the little girl is—'
'I’ll take care of it, Herb.' Her hand tightened on the doll. 'Thank you for your concern.'
'I think you should reconsider—'
'Go away' She stopped and tempered the sharpness of her tone. 'I’m sorry. I’m upset. I need to be alone to think about this. I don’t want you to call anyone, not even Mr. Logan. Do you understand?'
