Silencing Eve

mourners who have him cornered.”
    “He’s hating it. He’s particularly angry about all those reporters and media people he had to let come to make sure Doane would know about Eve’s service. He said Eve would hate this kind of show if she were really dead.”
    “If she were really dead, she wouldn’t care either way.”
    Margaret gestured. “You know what I mean.”
    “Yes, I do. She’d just want to fade away and live on as a memory. That’s what I’d want, too.” They had reached the edge of the trees, and she saw that Joe was still surrounded. She’d have to wait until he was free, she realized impatiently.
    She had a sudden thought. “Zander. Is Lee Zander here? I need to talk to him. He seems to be the center of this equation.”
    “Zander didn’t come. He disappeared shortly after the fire was put out.” Margaret shook her head. “Don’t count on talking to him. I’m not even sure he cares whether Eve is alive or not. Though the idea that Doane is still a threat to him might spur him.”
    “To hell with what he cares about. I’m going to talk to him.”
    “Whatever.” Margaret was strolling toward Jane. “I warned you. Everyone has to march to their own drummer.”
    Catherine stayed where she was at the edge of the crowd, waiting for Joe.
    She could see why Joe was on edge about the media. A TV cameraman was drifting around setting up shots of different dignitaries. There was no bank of microphones, but there were two reporters who had hand mikes.
    She instinctively tried to fade back into the shadows. Was it worth it? All this media attention that Joe Quinn hated so much and was enduring on the chance that it might help Eve in some way.
    Are you out there watching, Doane?

 
    CHAPTER
    2
    Starlite Motel
Casper, Wyoming
    “YOU’RE NOT WATCHING, EVE,” Doane said. “I’ve made you a star, and you’re not paying any attention.” He turned the sound down on the TV. “Though those fools thought you were a star anyway, didn’t they? But people always look kindly at victims after they’re dead.”
    “Turn off the TV.” Eve looked straight at the reconstruction of Kevin she was repairing. It had been damaged during the time they were in the stream flowing out of the cavern. “I can’t concentrate with it on.”
    “Of course you can.” He leaned back in the chair. “You’re so talented. Listen to all those people being interviewed who are raving about you. I’ve counted four police chiefs so far who have sung your praises.”
    “You listen to them. I don’t give a damn. It was always the work, not what anyone thought of me.” She didn’t look at him. He was trying to disturb her, and he was succeeding, but she couldn’t let him know. It would be a victory, and he’d had too many victories lately. “I thought you wanted this reconstruction of your monster son finished. It wasn’t me who did all the damage this time. You can’t take a skull reconstruction down into an underground stream without water damage. You almost ruined him beyond repair.” She smiled maliciously. “Kevin wouldn’t be pleased, would he?”
    Doane’s smile vanished. “He knows I’m only doing what I have to do. It was all your fault that I had to find a way to get us out fast when all your people were closing in on me.” He added with satisfaction, “But I’d prepared a way to do it. It was a good plan. Just like the plans I always made when Kevin was alive and with me. He was always proud of me.”
    “Yes, luring little girls into your son’s web was something for which he’d praise and stroke you, wasn’t it?” And those many children had been raped and murdered by Kevin, Doane’s son. In the end, which one, Kevin or Doane, had been the most evil? “He was your son. You could have stopped him. You could have saved the lives of those little girls. That would have given you a little reason for pride.”
    “You don’t understand. I’ve told you, Kevin was special. He could have ruled everything and everyone around him if he’d been given a little more time. The little girls weren’t important.” He shrugged. “Great men need a release. Kevin chose the children.”
    She felt sick. She should be accustomed to Doane’s horrible justifications after these days of being with him. But the words were new and painful every time he spoke them. “And he’ll burn in hell for it. So will you, Doane.”
    “He’s not in hell,” he said softly. “We both know that, Eve. He’s