Divine Evil

find some answers. And I was running away.”
    Her eyes closed, and she smiled. “So the reasons why don't matter so much as the result.”
    “That's the way I figure it.”
    “I still think you've got one point wrong. You were running to, not away.” Her eyes shot open. “Oh, my God.”
    “What is it?” he asked as she struggled out of his arms.
    “Running away. The girl you were looking for when I first came to town. The runaway from—”
    “Harrisburg?”
    “Yes, from Harrisburg. What was her name?”
    “Jamison,” he said. “Carly Jamison. Why?”
    “Jesus.” She shut her eyes again. It couldn't be a coincidence. “Spelled how?”
    “C-a-r-1-y. Clare, what is it?”
    “Annie. I saw Annie at the parade this morning, and she was showing off her jewelry. She had a bracelet on her arm, a silver bracelet with a name engraved on it. The name was Carly. I couldn't think why it bothered me so much until now.”
    The feeling of dread settled in his stomach. He glanced at the clock and saw it was after one. “I'll go talk to Annie first thing in the morning.”
    “Let me go with you. I'm not trying to interfere,” she said quickly. “I think I can help. She said the bracelet was her favorite because it had her name on it. She read the letters wrong. If you give me an hour, I can make her another, then talk her into trading.”
    “All right. I hope to Christ she found it out on the shoulder of Fifteen and that the kid dropped it while she was out there hitching.”
    “That's probably just what happened.” But she had grown cold. “Kids are careless. She probably didn't notice it was missing until she was halfway to Florida.”
    “Yeah.” But something in his gut wouldn't let him believe it.
    * * *
    “It doesn't have to be your best work,” Cam said, trying to hurry her.
    “Everything has to be my best work.” With infinite care, Clare soldered the link together. She was rather pleased with the design, the slim silver band that widened into an oval. She would engrave Annie's name there in big, bold script. If Cam didn't stop distracting her with complaints.
    He paced the garage, picking up tools and setting them down again. “I want to get out to her trailer before she takes off for the day.”
    “All right, all right.” He was going to bitch if she took the time to file the solder joint down. Clare examined it and decided he'd just have to bitch. She didn't pass out inferior work. “Don't play with my calipers.”
    “What the hell's going on?” Blair came to the doorway sporting a pair of jogging shorts and a major league hangover.
    “Clare's making a bracelet.”
    “Making a bracelet?” He threw up a hand against the light and was careful not to scowl. Scowling only made his head pound more severely. “It's seven o'clock in the morning. Sunday morning.”
    Cam glanced at his watch. “Ten after.”
    “Oh, well then.” Blair made an expansive rolling motion with his arms and instantly regretted it.
    “I'm on police business,” Clare told him while she searched through her engraving tools.
    “Making a bracelet is police business?”
    “Yep. If you're just going to stand there, why don't you make coffee?”
    “We don't have time,” Cam put in.
    “We can take it with us.”
    “I'll buy you a goddamn gallon of coffee when we're finished.”
    “You need it now,” she said, settling on the tool. “You're cranky.”
    “I'm past cranky and working my way rapidly to pissed.”
    “See?”
    “Listen,” Blair began and put both hands on his head to keep it bolted to his shoulders. “Why don't you two work this out, and I'll just go back to bed?”
    Neither of them bothered to glance over.
    “How much longer?”
    “Couple minutes.” The fine point skimmed into the silver. “If I'd had more time, I could've—”
    “Clare, it's shiny. She'll love it.”
    “I'm an artist,” she said, adding neat little flourishes with the engraving tool. “My work is my soul.”
    “Oh, Christ.”
    She bit her lip to stop the laugh and exchanged the tool for a polishing cloth. “There now. A bit primitive, but fine.”
    “Take your soul out of the vise and let's go.”
    Instead, she picked up a file. “Five more minutes. I just have to smooth down the joint.”
    “Do it in the car.” He unscrewed the vise himself.
    “Remind me to mention your lack of appreciation for the creative process.” She spoke on the run as Cam pulled her out of the garage. “Let's take my car. It'll seem