“Because I sense that you’re not being your usual meek self. I thought it was time you and I had a talk and reestablished my position in your life.”
“I know exactly what your position is. You’re the devil who needs to be sent straight back to hell.”
He laughed. “I don’t mind being compared to Satan. He has power, and he knows how to manipulate things to suit himself. I’m glad you’ve noticed how clever I am in that area. But you usually hold your tongue. Another sign that there may be a rebellion in the wings.”
“Why are you calling?” she repeated through set teeth.
“You know I always keep track of you. That was an amazing rescue of the Winters girl. I’ve been wondering if you managed to reap a reward from your friend Venable.”
“You know he won’t touch you.”
“I’ve made sure of any dire consequences. But you’re such a valuable tool for him. He might have given you a small gift in return.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Isn’t there a song about a rainy night in Georgia?”
She stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. You just had a cozy dinner with your newfound friends. Do you really think that Eve Duncan can help you, Catherine?”
Her gaze flew to the darkness beyond the porch. “You have someone here watching me?”
“Of course, I always keep my eye on you. And no, there’s no use trying to track him down. I pulled him out as soon as I had the information I wanted. Now tell me about Eve Duncan.”
She was silent a moment. “I hired her to do an age progression on Luke. I’m a mother. I want to know what my little boy looks like.”
“Touching. What a sentimental motive.”
“Every mother is sentimental about her child. You’ve played on that emotion for years. You shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Oh, I’m not surprised. I knew when I took your cub away from you that even a tigress loves her off spring. That’s why you’ve given me such joy. Strike at the child, and it makes you go through a living hell.”
“I wanted to see what he looks like,” she repeated.
“But perhaps not for sentimental reasons. Are you thinking of taking my toy away from me?”
“You’ve seen that I have no chance of doing that. After all this time, why would I even make the attempt?”
“Desperation?”
“I’d never risk Luke. You’ve told me enough times what you’d do to him if I tried anything.”
“Perhaps. Sometimes one can become calloused and numb to a constant threat.”
“I’m not numb.”
“No, I keep you raw and bleeding, don’t I? But I find it interesting you chose Duncan to do the age progression. Her fame lies in another direction.”
“She’s very good.”
“But she’s better with her skulls. I’ve decided that it must have been fate that led you to her.”
“Fate?”
He said softly, “You’ll have need of a reconstruction, not an age progression.”
Catherine inhaled sharply. “You’re lying.”
“No, I killed Luke when he was five years old. Venable was getting too persistent about releasing him, and I grew angry. No one can tell me what to do. I shot your son in the head and buried him in the woods. He was frightened and crying. He knew about guns and what they could do. I’d had him taught about them from the time I took him.”
Catherine closed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. You’ve told me you’ve killed him before, then said you were lying. You’re just trying to hurt me.”
“It’s a possibility.” He added maliciously, “But you can’t be sure. You haven’t talked to him. You have only me to rely on for any information about Luke. I control him. I control you.”
“He’s alive. I know it.”
“He’s buried in the woods. If it suits me, I may dig him up and send his skull to Eve Duncan. I’ll have to think about it.”
“You bastard,” Catherine whispered.
“Or send word to Venable where he can find him. Why shouldn’t he do the work? He and his cohorts in Washington have been irritating me lately.”
“You’re lying.”
“What if I’m not? I think you’ll have nightmares tonight envisioning Luke scared and crying right before I shot him.” He chuckled. “Go ahead. Work on that age progression. But don’t take it past five years. It would be totally futile.” He hung up.
Eve reached out. “Catherine, I know-”
“Don’t touch me. Not yet.” She huddled sidewise, leaning on the arm of the porch swing. “I’m…hurting.” Her voice was shaking. “I’m sorry. I don’t like you to-Give me time…”
Good Lord, she was hurting, Eve thought. Her back was arched, and Eve could almost feel the vibrations of the agony she was emitting.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No.”
“Screw it.” Joe was suddenly kneeling before Catherine, taking her in his arms. “I will touch you. Stop trying to handle it on your own. You need us.”
“I don’t-” She suddenly collapsed against him, her arms clinging desperately. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled against him. “You’d think I’d be able to handle it by this time. But he knows just where and how to-I’ve got to stop this. It’s what he wants, what he expects.” Her voice was shaking. “He was lying, you know. Every now and then, he’ll tell me he’s killed Luke. I think he saves it for when he’s feeling in the mood for a particularly savage turn of the knife. But he has to be lying, doesn’t he? But I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“No, you don’t know,” Eve said quietly. “But you have a chance of its not being true. He’s such a bastard that I can’t imagine that he’d give up the value of a live hostage with whom he can taunt you for the momentary pleasure of a kill.”
“That’s what I tell myself. Sometimes I believe it.” She drew a long, shaky breath and pushed Joe away. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I fell apart like that. Thank you.”
He leaned back on his heels. “You’re welcome.” He gazed searchingly at her face. “You’re pale, drained. I think you need to drink that coffee.”
“I agree.” She picked up her cup. “Or something stiffer.” She glanced at Eve. “He was particularly ugly tonight. He didn’t like me coming to you.”
“Tough. I don’t know how you kept from blowing up at him.”
“Think about it. He taught me well to hold my tongue. Every time I’d grow angry and say something he didn’t like he’d threaten Luke. That was one of the hardest things to bear.” She took a long drink of coffee. “And one he enjoys the most. He told me once that as long as he holds Luke, I’m his slave. He loves the control over me.”
“And he evidently embroiders his stories of Luke in detail,” Joe said. “A five-year-old familiar with guns. Unusual.”
“He meant that he’d threatened Luke with weapons.”
“Is that what he meant? Or was it something else?”
Catherine shook her head. “He lies. I can’t tell what’s true and what’s not.” Her grip tightened on the cup. “Except about Luke’s being dead. He’s not dead. Why would he worry if I found out what my son looked like? Why would he try to discourage me?” She added bitterly, “And, yes, I know there’s no telling why Rakovac would do anything. The son of a bitch is crazy.”
“According to the dossier I pulled on him, he may be a little unbalanced, but he’s clever,” Joe said. “And I think he had a purpose other than wanting to toy with you.”
“I do, too,” Eve said. “And I believe I’ll thumb my nose at him and finish that progression ASAP.” She finished her coffee and stood up. “I’ll start the dishwasher, then hit the computer.”
