Eve slowly took the book and opened it. Two photos, faded with time. Two little girls, both evidently sisters with those very familiar features. Dressed in shorts and T-shirts, their dark hair wind-tousled. They were smiling at each other: love, closeness, warmth.… “Jenny and Cara,” she said softly.
Margaret nodded. “It looks as if the photo was taken on board a ship. Blue sky. Blue sea…”
“But where?” She looked on the back. “Not a professional shot. Maybe if Joe sends it to the FBI, we might be able to find out. They know all kinds of technical tricks.”
“We can try.” She studied the bus pass. “It’s a local pass. West route. Why would she have a bus pass there when her job is here in the southeast?”
“We’ll have to find out,” Margaret said. “Are you ready to get out of here? I don’t like this place.”
Eve could see what she was talking about. The apartment was neat and clean, and there were even rose and yellow colors in the pillows on the couch. But it was too neat, like a hotel room instead of a home, and there was a coolness about it. It looked … temporary.
“Yes, I’m ready.” She turned toward the door. “I need to get hold of a city map, compare it to those expired bus passes, and see if I can see anything.” She grimaced. “But heaven knows, it would help if I knew what I was looking for.”
*
The bitch was scared out of her mind, Walsh thought with malicious satisfaction. Elena Delaney had tried three times to lose him in the past hour, and now she was going faster, trying to escape through sheer speed. She’d be lucky not to be pulled over by the highway patrol.
Would she be tempted to tell them she was being followed?
No, she knew what would happen to her family if she did. She would be polite, accept the ticket, then get back on the road. But that would give him his chance to catch up to her.
No matter what she did, he would eventually have her.
And after a short but very painful time for her, he would also have Cara.
*
Eve didn’t call Joe again for another two hours. “I’m on my way back to San Francisco. Margaret and I went to the bus company and asked a boatload of questions but came up with zilch. The passes were paid for in cash and no one remembers Elena Delaney. It would have been too much to hope that she had a cozy conversation with the clerk about where she was going and why she needed a pass.”
“Sometimes it happens like that. Not often. Where does that bus go?”
“On the Pacific Highway, then into some of the subdivisions in the suburbs. I asked to talk to the bus driver who drives the route, but they had to check their records.” She added wearily, “And probably my credentials before they give me his telephone number. It’s been a question of hurry up and wait all day. I’m not getting anything done. I thought I’d start again tomorrow morning.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. It’s a suspicious world. You know that no one wants to give out information unless forced by authority.” He paused. “Sounds like you need a cop.”
“Joe.”
“Just a thought.”
“Not a good one. You have two more days.”
“Maybe.” He said, “In the meantime, I’ve been looking into Nalchek.”
Eve glanced at Margaret next to him. “Building scenarios?”
“It’s hard to build any case against him. He was in Afghanistan when Jenny was killed. He came back over a year later and worked with his grandfather at his vineyard until his death. His father resigned as sheriff eighteen months later, and Nalchek ran for office himself and was elected by a sound majority.” He added, “No hint of corruption, and he won the Silver Star when he was in the service.”
“So he’s clean?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve seen pastors who seemed above reproach turn out to be serial killers. I said that on the surface it appears it’s going to be difficult to dig up anything derogative.”
“I don’t want derogative. I want the truth.”
“And that’s what you’ll get. But not in a few hours,” he said. “I’ve got a call coming in from Sonderville. I’ll talk to you when I know something.” He hung up.
Eve glanced at Margaret. “You heard him. Nalchek evidently appears eminently respectable.”