“Waiting. I’ve been waiting…”
Waiting for what? To be brought home to the people she loved? To get justice for the terrible crime perpetrated against her? The words struck Eve as terribly sad, and again she had the urge to reach out and hold her.
Back off. Jenny was coming too close to her. She forced herself to go back to working on the depth markers on the reconstruction. “Then wait a little longer, Jenny. We’re getting there. Just a little longer…”
*
The lights were burning bright in the cottage even though it was after midnight.
Walsh didn’t dare get closer to the cottage than these trees across the lake, and it was filling him with frustration. But Joe Quinn had been out in the woods twice tonight, and he couldn’t risk it. He’d read Quinn’s dossier, and an ex-SEAL wasn’t going to be taken by surprise like that deputy. He’d have to wait for an opportunity.
As he’d have to wait for the opportunity to go after Eve Duncan. But time was running out. She might be getting close.
Walsh could imagine that Duncan bitch sitting working on that damn skull and making that kid’s face come alive again. Damn Nalchek. Any other small-town sheriff would have just let that skeleton be reburied somewhere and eventually filed the paperwork and let the little girl be forgotten.
But Eve Duncan wasn’t going to let her be forgotten.
So Eve Duncan would have to be removed.
*
“Okay, here we go.” Eve could feel the tension grip her muscles as she stared at the reconstruction. “I’ve done all the prep work I can. It’s time we started working together on this.”
No answer.
“Listen, Jenny, this isn’t the time for you to opt out. Help me.”
No answer.
Ignore the rejection and hope she would come in later.
Smooth the clay.
Such a small skull.
So delicate …
She had to be sensitive, gentle.
No mistakes.
She let the tips of her fingers move of their own volition.
Help me, Jenny.
The clay was cool … no, it was warmer now. As warm as her own fingers moving, molding.
Nose?
It had to be generic.
Instinct. Just use instinct.
Mouth.
Generic again. She’d measured the width but had to guess at the shape. A child’s mouth, sensitive, because Jenny was so sensitive.
Eyes. So very difficult. No measurements, very few scientific indicators. Okay, study the shape and the angle of the orbits. That angle and the bony ridge above it would help her decide the shape. Keep them in mind but don’t do the eyes yet. It always made her excited to see the eyes staring at her, and she might hurry the rest of the process.
Do the cheeks.
Fill in.
Smooth.
The other cheek.
Smooth.
She was going too fast. Slow down. Measurements were still important. Check them.
Nose width. Okay.
Lip height. Okay. No, bring the top lip down. It’s usually thinner than the bottom.
There’s a major muscle around the mouth, build it up.
But Jenny was a child and would have a child’s fullness.
No, thin face.
Where had that come from? It didn’t matter if it was instinct or Jenny.
Just go with it.
Mold.
Smooth.
Fill in.
Her hands were flying over that small face now.
Deepen.
Mold.
Smooth.
Fill in.
The chin.
More pointed.
Smooth.
Brows.
Winged.
Odd. Why?
Just do it.
Slow down. Her hands were too feverish.
No, they aren’t.
Go ahead.
Smooth.
Mold.
Fill in.
But there was only a little more to fill in.
Smooth it.
Mold?
No, just the smoothing.
Fast.
Sure.
Let it come.
Let her come.
Blinding speed. Her heart was beating hard.
The reconstruction was only a blur.
Finished.
She leaned back, and her hands dropped away from the skull.
Only it wasn’t a skull any longer.
It was Jenny.
No, not yet.
She reached into the drawer and drew out her eye case.
Eyes.
Jenny had to have eyes.
Eve looked down at the glass eyeballs. She usually chose brown, they were the most common.
She started to reach for them.