“Green.”
Eve stopped. “Now you appear. I could have used a little more help, Jenny.”
“I tried to help. It was hard to remember … It’s not important here where I am now.”
“Well, it’s still important to me.” She took the green eyes from the case. “And it’s important to Sheriff Nalchek.” She paused. “And it may be important to the person who put you in that grave.”
“But you did pretty well without me, didn’t you? You must be very smart, Eve.”
“Flattery? You must be fairly smart yourself, Jenny.” She was inserting the right eye carefully in the right cavity. “Green eyes are very noticeable. That might help. Who did you take after? Your mother or your father?”
“I don’t know. They’re not … I don’t remember.”
Distress. Veer away from the pain she sensed. “It doesn’t matter.” She inserted the other eyeball and smoothed the clay around the orbital cavity. “What’s important is that the eyes might trigger a memory that—”
She broke off and inhaled sharply.
Finished. The reconstruction was completely finished.
And the full impact of the work that she’d just done hit home to her.
“Jenny?”
She reached out and gently touched the cheek of the sculpture. She almost expected it to be warm with life. The little girl’s expression seemed to radiate vitality and enthusiasm. Even those wide-set green eyes seemed to glow with a kind of wonder in that small, triangular face. Pointed chin, high cheekbones, and winged brows gave the child an elfin quality. But it was the vitality, the wonder, that held Eve spellbound.
And some monster had killed this?
She cleared her throat to ease its tightness. “Perhaps you helped me more than either one of us thought, Jenny. I believe you must have been a very special little girl. I’d bet you enjoyed every minute of your life. I’m sorry you don’t remember more of it.”
“I don’t have to remember. The joy has been with me while I was waiting. The most important thing I got to take with me.”
“What thing?”
“Why, the music, Eve. It’s still part of me. It’s still here.”
“Music? What do you mean, Jenny?”
No answer.
“Okay, I guess I shouldn’t expect more than one breakthrough at a time.” She wearily rubbed the back of her neck. “And tonight I got a big one. I have a face. Tomorrow, I’ll take photos and run it through my computer program for any matches. The program isn’t as extensive as FBI and police databases, but I might get lucky.”
“You’re happy. I like to see you like this.”
“I did my job, and I came up with one great product. It gives me a sense of satisfaction to know what you look like. It’s like solving a mystery. Now I know to whom I’m talking.”
“It’s not only because of what happened to me?”
“No, a whisper from the great beyond is better than nothing, but I’m a visual person.” She looked back at the reconstruction. “You know, sometimes I don’t even do brows but you must have been insistent.” She got to her feet and arched her back. “And now I’m going to shower and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” She had a sudden thought. “Or not. Maybe you’ll disappear now that I’ve finished your reconstruction.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Oh.” Why did she feel this relief? “You and the music?”
“You’re smiling. I’m sorry I can’t explain about the music. It’s just that—”
“You don’t have to explain anything unless you want to. We’re just ships that pass in the night. I don’t have to know. You’ve been hurt, and you’re in a place I can’t possibly understand.”
“Ships that pass … I don’t think so, Eve.”
“Time will tell.”
“You’re going to bed with your Joe again?”
“Absolutely.”