Silencing Eve

second call had been to the same man, but she’d heard a little more. They were talking about a city, Seattle. The second in the chain, Doane had called it.
    What chain? she thought with exasperation. And what did this Cartland have to do with Doane’s so-called master plan? Whatever it was must have been important to him. He was very careful about going out, or he would probably have made the calls outside the motel room.
    What did she care about all of Doane’s crazy plans and telephone calls? Lord, she was tired of dealing with him.
    She gazed at herself in the mirror over the sink. She looked as tired as she felt. And she looked … different.
    Her face was thinner, the eyes sunk deeper, her lips more defined. She looked tougher, ready to face down the world. She had changed in these days with James Doane. She resented the fact that he’d had the power to carve out all the softness and left only the lean, sharp essence. But her greatest fear was that the hardness had scored deep beneath the surface. She desperately wanted to keep the humanity that made her what she was. She wouldn’t let him steal that from her.
    And she wouldn’t give up fighting because of the exhaustion. The phone calls Doane was making were signs of need, signs of weakness. Things weren’t going entirely the way he’d planned. Find out the weakness. Find a way to strike out at it.
    She moved quietly closer to the door. She’d missed most of the conversation but heard the last scrap.
    “I’m not going to argue with you, Cartland. You’ll get the location when you give me the money and the manpower to do the job. When Zander is dead, you’ll have what you need. Of course I’m not bullshitting you. You know you can trust Kevin. Has he ever disappointed you?” He hung up.
    The TV volume was turned up again.
    Trust Kevin? Kevin was dead. What the hell could Kevin give to this Cartland?
    Think about it. Listen. Watch.
    She turned the water on full and splashed her face. She wiped it on the hand towel and turned and opened the door.
    Doane was smiling at her. “You look much more refreshed. But you shouldn’t have run away. Did I disturb you by telling you Kevin’s plans for your Bonnie? It was true, you know. She may be dead, but she’s not safe. No one is safe from Kevin.”
    She felt herself tense, and she wanted to run away again. Okay, try to distract him and get him away from verbally attacking Bonnie. “You didn’t make me run away. I’d just had enough of you. And turn off that damn TV. Do you think it hurts me to see all those people I love at the cottage mourning me? Well, you’re right. It does. It also makes me less able to work on Kevin. You said you wanted him ready by tomorrow.”
    “I do.” He tilted his head. “But this is too enjoyable to miss entirely. I’ve been looking forward to this memorial service since it was announced on CNN. I can’t get enough of it. I’ve recorded it, and I’ll try to catch it on another cable station later.”
    “It will probably not be shown. I’m surprised they’re giving it any airtime at all. I’m not that important, Doane.”
    “You’re too modest. You notice that your mother didn’t show up for the service? But, then, she doesn’t care anything for you, does she?”
    “She cares. In her own way.”
    “And I don’t see Zander in the crowd.”
    “Why should he be there? You say he’s my father, but I don’t accept it. He’s only a hired assassin who doesn’t care anything about me.”
    “He cares. A father always cares about his child. That’s what this is all about. It would be dangerous for him to show up at your memorial service, but he’ll be mourning you in his own place and way.” He smiled. “And after you finish Kevin tomorrow, we’ll go join him.”
    “It’s all a stupid—”
    “Shh.” He help up his hand. “Now pay attention. They’re filming your Joe Quinn. He looks totally devastated, doesn’t he?”
    Joe. Beloved. Friend. Protector. She studied his face. His expression was tense, the jaw clenched, his brown eyes glittering.
    Devastated?
    She stiffened. Careful. She tried to keep her own face expressionless as she gazed at Joe. She knew that face. She could read every expression, every hint of feeling.
    Joe was not devastated at losing her. He was impatient. He wanted this media circus over.
    Why? If he had set it up to honor her?
    Then it sank home. She had been so numb in these last days, fighting to recover physically and