But she had been stronger than he had ever seen her last night before he had left her.
Yet she had pushed him away, and he hadn’t been able to persuade her otherwise. She would know that he wouldn’t let her harm herself.
He didn’t wait for the elevator, but ran down the stairs. The newsboy was cutting the cord on the pile of newspapers that had just been delivered. Joe snatched up the top newspaper.
“What the hell is she doing?” Slindak had come up behind him. His expression was tense as he grabbed another newspaper. “The captain just called me from a meeting at the mayor’s office. He wants to know if we had anything to do with this. Did we?”
“Hell, no.”
There was a photo of Eve on the front page. She looked sober, but her chin was lifted defiantly. That gesture was the theme for the entire story below the photo.
The story was written by Brian McVey.
“I’m going to murder him,” Joe muttered as his gaze scanned the interview.
It led off with an emotional introduction to Eve Duncan, who had lost her child. Then it went to the Q &A directly following.
Q. “You’ve heard about the death of Janey Bristol. Do you believe that your daughter was taken by the same killer?”
A. “It’s possible. The man who killed Janey Bristol was obviously a coward who only has the nerve to prey on children. Adult interaction obviously terrifies him. He was so stupid he didn’t even hide the child’s body but left it in that cave to be discovered.”
Q. “Stupid? He’s allegedly killed at least nine children without being apprehended.”
A. “Children. He’s a moron who is only capable of attacking and overcoming little children like Janey. That’s why he concentrates only on them. It takes logic and intelligence to attack adults. Someone told me that killers like him are into power. Since he’d be defeated by anyone other than a five-year-old, he’ll probably continue to kill helpless children. He won’t attempt to attack anyone who might challenge him.”
The article continued for another two columns, but it was all in the same insulting vein.
Slindak gave a low whistle. “Ugly. She couldn’t be more insulting. Is she trying to get herself killed?”
“Don’t ask me,” he said through his teeth. “She didn’t consult me about this insanity.”
“And I thought you were so close,” Slindak murmured.
“Not now,” Joe said curtly. “I’m very near to blowing, Slindak.”
“I can see that.” He added, “But I told you that there was the danger of not being able to control her. Now she’s going to cause us a hell of-”
“I know what she’s doing.” He strode over to the lobby telephone booth. “And she would have done this if I’d never shown up here in Atlanta. She’d have found a way to reach out to the bastard.”
“Reach out? She bludgeoned him. Are you calling her?”
He was trying. But she wasn’t picking up on her home phone. She could be there, but not answering. He hung up. “I’m going to her place and talk to her.”
“You may have to stand in line. She could have made Zeus mad enough to want to have his own discussion with her.” Slindak added, “The captain isn’t going to be happy if Eve Duncan ends up in a cave with her skull on a shelf. We’re getting enough heat without that maniac expanding his chosen field.”
“Dammit, it won’t happen. She
Thirty minutes later, he was at the house on Morningside. No answer when he rang. The front door was locked. He went around to the back porch. No answer there.
What the hell? He jimmied the window and climbed into the kitchen.
Five minutes later, he’d searched every room in the house, and Eve was not to be found.
But there was an envelope on the kitchen table.
He tore it open.
His hand clenched on the paper.
Lucky.
Yeah, lucky enough to have that bastard zero in on her and slice her to pieces.
Cool down. Panic wouldn’t get him anywhere. He had to find her, talk to her, persuade her to step back and away from acting as bait for McVey.
Find her.
She wasn’t in the house. Her mother didn’t know where she’d gone. But she was working with Brian McVey. He might have thought he was using her, but he’d soon find out differently. Eve would be in control.
He called the
Brian McVey had taken an indefinite leave of absence and could not be contacted.
Strike one.
The hell he couldn’t be contacted. He called the ATLPD and had a clerk pull out all the profile information they could gather on McVey.
“What are you doing?” Slindak came on the line. “What does Duncan say?”
“I’d know if I could get hold of her,” Joe said. “She’s not home. I think that McVey has her stashed somewhere while he runs these stories. Get off the line and let me get the info I need.”
“I’ve got it here. McVey has an apartment in Dunwoody-1321 Ashford.”
“That would be too easy. Anything else?”
“Let me see… He inherited a house from his mother two years ago. It doesn’t say whether he sold it or still has possession.”
“Address.”
“It’s 4961 Rosecreek Drive. It’s near Lake Allatoona.” He paused. “McVey’s story has caused a buzz with the rest of the media. There was lot of talk on the local TV news this evening. Including Eve Duncan’s quotes.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. McVey might have even given them a call.”
“And shared his story? Not likely.”
“To stir the pot. To add the final irritant that would make an explosion certain. Anything else you can tell me about McVey?”
“I can tell you he’s a member of the press, and you should be careful what you do to him. I know you’re pissed at the hot spot he’s put Eve Duncan on, but he can cause us big-time trouble.”
“Ask me if I care.” He hung up.
The apartment in Dunwoody or the house near Lake Allatoona?
The Dunwoody apartment was closer, and he didn’t know whether McVey still owned the house he’d inherited.
But his instincts were leaning toward Lake Allatoona. He called the telephone company, identified himself, and
