His voice was so passionate that Eve asked, “Really? And how do you know it?”
“Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you—” He stopped. “Or maybe I just want it so bad. I looked down at that little girl’s skeleton all covered in dirt and mud, and I felt like she was calling to me. It was so damn strong, it rocked me. She was so … small and fragile. I wanted to pick her up and take her somewhere safe, where no one would ever hurt her again. Crazy, huh?”
“Not so crazy.” All her impatience had disappeared with his words. When her own daughter had disappeared, she would have wanted someone like Nalchek to be hunting for her. It was a cold world, and men who cared were rare and to be valued. “What can you tell me about her?”
“Nothing much. We think she’s nine or a little younger. She died of a blow to the head. She’s Caucasian, and she’s been buried for a good eight years or more. I’ve checked the missing persons reports at the time, and there’s nothing that matches up to the location or the time frame.”
“She might have been transported from almost anywhere in the state or beyond.”
“I know that. You asked me what I knew. I didn’t think you wanted guesses, ma’am.”
“No, I don’t.” Nine years old. Buried eight years. If she’d lived, she’d have gone to high-school proms by now. She might have had a boyfriend or had a crush on some rock star or movie actor. She’d missed so much during those eight years. “Thank you. It may help to know something about her.”
“I thought it might. I read a couple articles about you before I sent you the skull. You were quoted as saying that you liked to do anything that brought you closer to the victim. You said for some reason it seemed to make the sculpting process easier. The reporter made a lot of that remark.”
“He was looking for a hook for his story. I made the mistake of giving it to him.”
“It was a good hook. It was what made me send the skull to you. I liked the idea of someone’s caring enough to want to get close to a victim.”
“I feel sympathy for any victim, but the closeness of which I spoke only occurs during the actual sculpting process. That’s really the only part of reconstruction that has the potential for creativity.”
“And bonding?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“Maybe. I’m trying to make sure I did the right thing, sending her to you. I feel responsible.”
“Should I send that skull back to you?”
“No, ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’d appreciate it if you’d get right on it, please.”
“No offense taken. You just seem very possessive about this skull.”
“That’s what I thought about when I researched you, Ms. Duncan. Two of a kind?”
“No.” Though those words were eerily close to what Joe had said, she thought. “Perhaps I do feel a responsibility and closeness to my work while I’m doing a reconstruction, but I’d never feel possessive. I only want to set them free.”
Nalchek chuckled. “I haven’t gotten there yet. I feel like that little girl still belongs to me just like the minute we pulled her out of that grave. Maybe after you get me a face, I’ll be able to let her go. Good night, Ms. Duncan. You’ll let me know how it goes?”
“I imagine that you’ll make sure I do,” she said dryly. “Good night, Sheriff.” She hung up.
Nalchek wasn’t entirely what she had thought. She would still bet that he was young, but he wasn’t inexperienced and had a toughness that made his insistence about her doing the reconstruction all the more puzzling.
A nine-year-old girl, buried over eight years.
I felt like she was calling to me.