Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)

“And he knew also. But he said, ‘No,’ and then, ‘Dad’s wrong.’”

“I want to believe that,” he said thickly. “Lord, I want to believe it.”

“I think I have to believe it,” she said unevenly. “I’m not certain I won’t turn catatonic again if I don’t. Michael wouldn’t like that.” She pushed him away and sat up. “So now I have to act like a coherent human being instead of an emotional wreck. If it’s true, there’s a chance that Michael might need us.” She brushed the hair away from her face. “How badly hurt am I?”

“Not bad. Severe bruising. Your cheek looks swollen and purple like a truck hit you. But the EMTs weren’t worried about your physical health.”

“No, they thought I was heading for a nervous breakdown.” She hoped they were wrong. If she had purpose, if she had a miracle, if she had a chance for Michael, they would be wrong. She was barefoot but she was dressed in an oversized blue man’s shirt and loose khaki pants, “What happened to my clothes?”

“The same thing that happened to mine. Blast. We were too close. But they scrounged a pair of pants and shirt for me, too, from one of the merchants in another shopping center.”

“Call Cara and tell her I need—” Her gaze flew to Joe’s face. “Cara?”

“She’s outside. She and Darcy and Jock got here about thirty minutes ago. I told her she couldn’t see you until after I told you.”

“I’ll have to see her right away. She loves Michael. She must be devastated.”

“Everyone loves Michael. But she has Jock and Darcy. She’s not alone.”

“But sometimes it seems that way, doesn’t it? One person goes away and it seems like the whole world is—” She stopped. “Okay, you go out and talk to them while I pull myself together.” She smiled. “Be sure to let them know what great delusions I’m having. It will save me from explaining, and I really don’t want to go through that craziness.”

“They’ll understand regardless, Eve.” He headed for the door. “Take your time before you decide to come out. What you’re going to see will make you want to turn around and run back inside.”

*

Joe was right, Eve thought sickly, as she opened the vehicle door and stepped outside. The formerly small, charming, square looked like a postnuclear disaster site. The shops were almost all totally leveled and on fire. The fire department had been called, and some of the fires had been put out on the end units, but the ones burning in the middle were still feeding each other.

Red and gold.

Red.

Red flame, eating away everything it touched.

Fifty dead. It had touched at least fifty, Joe had said.

TV cameras. Police. Yellow tapes encircling the entire square.

Her gaze was drawn toward the place where the Ice Cream Emporium had stood, but she could no longer tell where it had been. The raging fire had made everything along that stretch one huge flaming conglomeration.

“Eve!” Cara was running toward her, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Maybe if I’d seen that scrap of material sooner. Maybe if I’d—” She was in Eve’s arms, holding her close. “I should have been here for you. Maybe if I—”

“Shh, if you give me one more ‘maybe,’ I’ll be very upset with you.” She held her tight an instant longer, then stepped back. “We could all play that word game into infinity and it wouldn’t help. No one is to blame but Rory Norwalk.” She was still staring in horror at the scene before her. “And no one could ever forgive him for it.”

“For nothing.” Darcy was suddenly beside her, her gaze fixed on the inferno, her voice harsh with bitterness. “Like Sylvie. All those people died for nothing. It wasn’t only Michael, he wanted to show you how powerful he was, what he could do.”

“And he did it.” Eve tore her eyes away from the flames. She felt as if she were being pulled into that inferno, devoured in the sorrow of it all. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not if there was a chance that Michael was still alive. She had to look for him, find him, figure it all out. She forced herself to look at the makeshift morgue at the far end of the square, where she could see the bodies lying on the ground. “I have to look at the bodies that were blown out of the shop. Joe said that none of them were Michael, but I have to see for myself.”

Cara shook her head. “Eve, you don’t want to see—”

“No, I don’t,” Eve interrupted fiercely. “I don’t want to see any of it, but I have to be certain. If Michael’s not one of those boys, then I can eliminate that possibility. Yes, he could be in that inferno or blown to bits, but if I have no evidence, then I can still believe that somehow he’s still alive. I’ve got to believe that to keep me going, Cara.”

Joe stepped forward, and said quietly, “Don’t argue. Just let her go, Cara.”

Cara nodded jerkily. “I’ll go with you, Eve.”

Eve shook her head but didn’t answer. She was already walking toward those tarp-covered bodies. Not only the three boys from the emporium, but six other bodies that had been tossed out like broken dolls from the blast.

A police officer was coming forward to stop her, but Joe waved him aside. “The ones on the end, Eve,” he said quietly as he stepped in front of her. “One quick glance should show you. Don’t let yourself look any longer than that.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Joe,” she said hoarsely.

“I know. It’s just that you have to be able to trust yourself, what you’re feeling.” He lifted the first tarp. “Smaller than Michael. Blond hair.”

She flinched. “Right.”

He lifted the second tarp. “About the same height but very dark hair.”

She nodded.

He lifted the third tarp. “Much taller than Michael.”

She inhaled sharply. The boy’s face had been almost destroyed, but she knew who he was. “Gary.”

“Yes.” He dropped the tarp. “Done?”

“Done.” She said shakily. But it could never be done until Norwalk paid for those atrocities. She turned away. “Thank you, Joe.”

“For giving you new food for nightmares?” He took her arm and drew her away from the bodies. “I want to get you away from here. Will you come home with me?”

“Soon.” She stood looking at the fire. “He’s not there, Joe. Michael’s not there. It’s not my imagination.”

“God, I hope it’s not.” His eyes were glittering with moisture. “It will be hard for anyone to verify who was killed in that explosion for a long time.”

“Maybe not.” Eve’s gaze never left the flames. “Not if he tells us.”

“What?”

“Norwalk told me he wanted me to see, feel, taste the pain. I believe this qualifies, don’t you? But maybe he thinks it’s not enough, not as close-up and personal as he wants.” She had to say it. “It could be he has other plans for Michael.”

Joe was silent. “Torture?”

“I’m trying not to think of that.” But it was hard not to think of that possibility. “But whatever he plans, he’d want me to see it. He’ll get in touch with me. But it won’t be before he believes I’ve received the full measure of agony from this monstrosity.” She swallowed. “So I’ll stay here for a little while longer and stare at his handiwork in case he has someone here watching me. I’ll pray for those poor victims, and I’ll pray for Michael.” She paused. “And I’ll pray that God gives us a way to strike down that monster and send him straight to the depths of hell.”

*

Eve managed to stay almost an hour and thirty minutes longer before she let Joe help her back to the car.

“You look like you’re about to collapse,” he said roughly as he tucked her into the passenger seat. “You should have gone right home. It took too much out of you.”