The Face of Deception (17 page)

“We'd rather you don't. We think we're safe, but we don't want to take any chances. Is there someplace else you can work?”

“You do make things hard for me.” He thought for a minute. “My lab at home?”

She shook her head.

“I've a friend who's a professor at Kennesaw State, which is about forty minutes from here. He'll let me use his lab.”

“Fine.”

“What about my assistant?”

She shook her head. “Let him take over your classes. I'll help you.”

“I probably won't need it.” He added testily, “But you can clean off all this damned clay. I want a nice, clean surface.”

“Okay.” She braced herself. “But I need to do a superimposition first.”

“And I'm supposed to twiddle my thumbs and wait?”

“I'll hurry. We need it, Gary. You know the teeth are important with superimposition and we don't know how many teeth you're going to have to take. We can't verify the dental records, so we need every bit of evidence we can get our hands on.”

“Maybe,” he granted reluctantly. “But my DNA will carry the day.”

“I know. But will you use your pull to borrow video equipment from the audio-visual department? I already have the mixer.”

“You don't want much,” Gary said sourly. “Taking valuable equipment off campus? They'll yell bloody murder.”

“Don't tell them you're taking it off campus.”

“They'll still kick up a fuss.”

“Charm them.”

“Yeah, sure. Then they really will suspect I've gone around the bend. I'll threaten and blackmail them instead.”

“You're right, we wouldn't want you to act out of character.”

“But you'll work your skinny butt off and get your stuff done pronto.”

“I'm not arguing.”

“Amazing,” Kessler murmured. “How long to clean up the skull?”

“An hour, maybe two. I want to be very careful.”

“Then I'll get your equipment and then run down my assistant and tell him I'll be gone for a couple of days.” Kessler moved toward the door. “Pack up our presidential friend. I'll be back as soon as possible.”

She said quietly, “Thanks, Gary. I owe you.”

“Yes, you do, and I'll make sure you pay me.”

“You played him very well,” Logan said as the door closed behind Kessler.

“We understand each other.” She glanced at Joe. “Will you follow him and make sure he's safe? I didn't want to make an issue of it, but I don't want him running around the campus all by himself.”

“You said yourself that you didn't think they'd figure out the connection.”

“I don't want to take any chances. I persuaded him to help us. I feel responsible.”

“And I feel responsible for you.”

“Please, Joe.”

“I don't want to—” He broke off as he saw her expression. He turned away abruptly. “Stay with her, Logan. If you let anything happen to her, I'll break your neck.” The door closed behind him with a decisive click.

Violence again. She gazed blindly down at the skull.

“Are you ready to go?” Logan asked.

“Not yet. I'm going to pack up Ben and then rifle through Gary's equipment for something to chip this clay off.” She crossed to the table and opened the cabinet. “You can contact Margaret and find out when my mother will be safe.”

“I can phone from here.”

“I don't want you underfoot. Go outside and do it.”

“I'd like to oblige, but Quinn gave me orders. I really would like to keep my skin intact.”

“
I'm
giving you orders. You're not doing any good here. Get out of my way and see that Mom's safe or I'll go home and do it myself. It's what I want to do anyway.”

He held up his hand in surrender. “I'm on my way.”

He was gone.

She drew a breath of relief. She didn't want any of them around her right now. She was too unsettled and needed to get things back in perspective. Work was the only thing that would do that. The sooner they got to that lab at Kennesaw State, the better she'd be.

She found three wood instruments that looked sharp enough to be effective but not too sharp to do crucial damage if her hand slipped. She dropped them in her handbag and then carefully repacked Ben's skull in the case. “Okay, Ben. Sorry to put you through this, but I've got to take all that clay off you. Put it on, take it off. All this running around and fussing doesn't seem fair, does it?” She fastened the case. “But here we go again.”

“Mrs. Duncan? Open the door. Margaret Wilson.”

Sandra studied the plump woman through the peephole and compared her to the photograph in her hand.

“Mrs. Duncan?”

“I heard you.” Sandra unlocked the door. “Come in.”

Margaret shook her head. “No, I have the van at the curb. We have to leave now. Are you ready?”

“As soon as I get my suitcase.” She went to the living room and came back with the case. “Where are we going?”

“We can't talk here.” Margaret preceded her down the porch steps. “Don't worry, you'll be safe.”

“Why can't we talk here. I'm not—” Sandra made the connection. “Bugged? You think my house is bugged?”

“That's what I was told. Hurry.”

“Bugged.” Sandra locked the front door. “What the hell is going on?”

“I hoped you'd know.” Margaret moved briskly down the walk. “I thought we'd compare notes and come up with some answers. Usually, I don't mind traveling blind for John, but I'm a little uneasy about all this.” She opened the passenger door. “Get in.” She indicated the short, burly man in the driver's seat. “This is Brad Pilton. He's with Madden Security and he's one of the crew who's been watching over you the past several days. He's supposed to be our bodyguard.”

“I
am
your bodyguard,” Pilton said, pained. He nodded politely at Sandra. “Ma'am.”

“Well, you're not very big.” Margaret climbed into the backseat. “Not that that's a hindrance in most cases. I approve of small. Still, I think I'd have chosen someone else for the job if I'd seen you first. There are uses for big and brawny. Not that you don't have excellent credentials.”

“Thank you.” He started the van and edged away from the curb.

“Where are we going?” Sandra repeated. “Or can't we talk?”

“The van's safe. It belongs to the security company, but I insisted Pilton check it out for bugs anyway. We're going to the mall.”

“The mall?”

“North Lake Mall.” She smiled at Sandra. “We need to do a car switch in case we're followed. We'll go in one door and out another.”

“And from there?”

“Lake Lanier. I've rented a small cottage. You'll be safe and cozy.”

Lake Lanier. She and Ron had talked about going up there over Labor Day, Sandra remembered wistfully. But he'd said they'd stay at the hotel on Pine Island. He wasn't much on rustic. Well, neither was she. In spite of their differences, they had a lot in common.

“Something wrong?” Margaret's gaze was on her.

“I guess not. All this seems like a bad dream to me.”

“Me too.” Margaret leaned forward and squeezed Sandra's shoulder. “Don't worry. We'll get through it together.”

“I think we're being followed,” Pilton said.

Sandra tensed and glanced over her shoulder. “Where?”

“The dark blue Mercury.”

“Are you sure?”

Pilton nodded. “Don't worry. We expected it. We'll lose him at the mall.”

Someone was following them. Someone who might want to hurt her, Sandra thought with a shiver.

For the first time, the threat became real to her.

Fiske watched the van pull into a parking space at North Lake Mall and the three passengers hurry through the doors of the south entrance. He didn't bother to park. He'd cruise around the mall and see if he could spot the three as they came out another door.

It was doubtful. There were too many lots and too many exits.

It didn't really matter. His favorite listening device had paid off again. He knew where they were going, though he wished Margaret Wilson had been a little more explicit. Lanier was a huge resort area with thousands of rental properties.

Which meant he should start the ball rolling on locating the right one immediately.

He took out his electronic earpiece and punched in Timwick's number on his phone. “Duncan's mother is being taken to a cottage on Lake Lanier. The place was probably rented yesterday or today by Margaret Wilson. I need to know where it is.”

“I'll get on it.” Timwick hung up the phone.

Fiske decided that in the meantime he'd check into a hotel and wait. Things were proceeding very well. He'd been upset about leaving Atlanta before everything was tidily brought to completion.

But now he was back.

“Everything's fine,” Margaret told Logan on the phone. “We've changed cars and we're on our way to Lake Lanier.”

“Call me when you get there.”

“I told you, everything's fine. Pilton is sure we're not being followed any longer.”

“Pilton?”

“The bodyguard. Though his body isn't much bigger than mine.”

“No big deal. I'd bet on you over Goliath any day.”

“Me too. That's why I'm reassuring myself about Pilton. Okay, I'll call you when we get to the cottage. Anything else?”

“Just stay out of sight.” He ended the call.

Everything's fine.

Maybe it was fine, but he was still uneasy. He'd expected getting Sandra Duncan away from the house to be more difficult.

Unless they wanted her out of sight as much as he did. It would be easier to dispose of someone who was hiding from the world.

But only if they found her.

“I told you to stay with Eve.” Joe Quinn was walking up the steps toward him.

“And she told you to stay with Kessler.”

“He's right behind me.”

“And I'm a hundred yards from the lab.”

“That's a hundred yards too far.”

“I had phone calls to make and I think she wanted me out of her hair.”

“She had good taste.”

Time to try to bridge the gulf. “You're absolutely right. She's perfectly right to resent me. So are you.” He gazed into Quinn's eyes. “But don't give me orders. We're on the same team and I'll do everything I can, but I'll work with you, not for you, Quinn.”

Joe's lips twisted. “And not against me? Just what did you tell her about me?”

“What I had to tell her to protect my position. I assure you that it was nothing but the truth.”

“As defined by John Logan.”

Logan nodded. “I think you know what I told her. I imagine it's what you've been carefully hiding for years.”

“Damn you.”

“I believe I was entitled to protect myself. You were becoming a little too lethal. Suppose we come to an agreement. You agree to work with me willingly, if not amicably, and I'll stop bringing up your alter ego to Eve.”

Quinn stared at him a moment. “Screw you.” He passed him and went into the building.

Logan let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. He had confronted many dangerous men in his time, but Quinn was definitely in a class by himself. It astonished him that Eve hadn't picked up on it.

Maybe not so strange. To her Quinn was the protector, the man who had saved her and sustained her.

It was difficult to equate a savior with a terminator.

FIFTEEN

KENNESAW STATE UNIVERSITY
1:05
A.M.

“How's it going?” Logan squatted beside Eve's chair. “Have you got a minute?”

“No, I haven't got a minute. It took me forever to jerry-rig this equipment and set it up.” She adjusted the TV monitor. “And I've just started.”

“Margaret called from Lanier. I have the phone number. I thought you'd want to talk to your mother.”

“Why didn't you tell me? Of course I want to talk to her.”

Logan dialed the number and handed his phone to Eve.

“How are you, Mom?”

“Tired. Worried about you,” Sandra said. “Hell, worried about me. Other than that, I'm in great shape. When is this going to be over, Eve?”

“I wish I knew.” She changed the subject. “How's the cottage?”

“Nice. It's on the water. Great view.”

But Sandra didn't sound as if she appreciated either the cottage or the view. Who could blame her? Eve had disrupted her life and yanked her away from the pleasant, comfortable niche she'd made for herself. “Try to enjoy it and relax. Do you have any books to read?”

“Margaret brought a few suspense novels, but you know I don't read much. There's a big TV set.” A pause. “Do you suppose I could call Ron? I wouldn't tell him where I was.”

“No, don't do it. Honest, I'll try to have you out of there in a few days.”

“Okay.” Sandra's tone was despondent. “I guess I'm kind of lonely. I'll be fine. You just take care of yourself.”

“I will. Good night, Mom. I'll call you every day.” She handed Logan the phone. “Thanks. I feel a little better now.”

“That was the intention. How is she?”

“Depressed. She wants her life back.” She gazed blindly at the monitor. “She deserves a good life. She's had a hard time and now things are looking up for her. She's met someone she cares about. Mom's always needed people.”

“And you haven't?”

She shrugged. “I guess I've never thought about it. There was always too much work to do.”

“Always?”

“Not always. Not when Bonnie—” She turned to look at him. “You're probing again, Logan.”

“Sorry, I'm just wondering what makes you tick.” He gazed at the skull on the pedestal. “Besides an obsession with our friends who have passed over. It's interesting that you don't seem to have made any close friends after your daughter was killed.”

“I've been busy.”

“And perhaps you don't want to come close to anyone again and risk being hurt.”

“Do you expect me to be awed by your perceptiveness? I'm well aware I'm avoiding new relationships and the reason for it.”

“Of course you are. You're a brilliant woman. So why don't you do something about it?”

“Maybe I don't want to do anything about it.”

“Not even to live a fuller, richer life?”

“You don't know how full and rich my life is compared to what it was before. I was lost and now I'm found.” She said haltingly, “I was drowning in pain and I've managed to climb to dry land. That's enough, Logan.”

“It's not enough. It's time to go on.”

She shook her head. “You don't understand.”

“I'm trying.”

“Why?”

“I like you,” he said simply.

She stared at him. “What are you up to, Logan?”

“I don't have an agenda. I do make new friends . . . even if there's a risk of losing them. I like you and I admire you. I just thought I'd tell you.”

“Before you start using me again.”

“Yes.”

“You're totally incredible.” She looked back at the monitor. “Do you expect me to say all is forgiven and let's go play in the sandbox?”

“No, I told you, no agenda. We're past all that now. I just wanted to be honest with you for a change. Sorry I disconcerted you.” He rose to his feet. “I'd better let you get back to work.”

“Yes, you had.”

“I thought you'd have more done by now.”

She was relieved that odd moment of revelation and intimacy was over and that Logan's usual demanding self was back. He was right. He had disconcerted her. “It took me longer than I thought to clean up Ben.” She glanced at Kessler, who was seated at the table at the far end of the lab. “Gary wasn't pleased. He's been chomping at the bit to get to work and I still need the skull for verification.”

“Why did you take those photographs at Barrett House?”

“Insurance.”

“How long is the superimposition going to take? This place is a little too public. I want to get out of here.”

“I'm hurrying as fast as I can.” She adjusted the camera aimed at the skull on the pedestal, and then made a minor adjustment on the second camera aimed at one of the photographs of Ben Chadbourne Logan had given her at Barrett House.

“How long is this going to take?” he repeated.

“It depends. Setting up sometimes takes the longest, and I haven't used this equipment before. I think I've got it right.”

“How does it work?”

“Haven't you got something else to do?”

“Just interested. Am I bothering you?”

“I suppose not.” She made another adjustment. “As you can see, the one camera is focused on the skull, the other on the photograph. The angle on the skull and the photograph both have to be the same. Then both cameras are connected to a mixer, an editing machine that I've connected to a VCR. The VCR plays the images on the monitor. The mixer can create a split screen where a line runs vertically and horizontally between the images at the same time or half of each image. The line can be moved to show less of one image and more of the other. That's called a wipe. But what I need to do is cause a fade.”

“And what's that?”

“It's sort of like a dream sequence in a movie. You know, when one image blurs and then suddenly becomes another? One image is superimposed on another and then I equalize the fade so that you can see the photograph and the skull both as if the person's skin is transparent.”

“Can you show me now?”

“Here it comes.” She brought the two images up on the monitor and started to work.

“Why did you pick the—”

“Be quiet. I'm busy.”

“Sorry.”

She was only vaguely aware of him beside her during the next period of painstaking adjustment.

Move.

Too much.

Backtrack.

Adjust.

Again.

Again.

And still again.

“Christ.” Logan leaned forward, his gaze on the ghostly merged image. “It's almost spooky.”

“Nothing spooky about it. It's just a tool.”

“May I talk now?”

“You appear to be doing it.” She made another adjustment.

“Why did you choose the photograph with Chadbourne smiling?”

“The teeth. Teeth are rarely perfect and each set has its own irregularities. If the teeth are a match, we hit the jackpot. That's why I had to have the skull before Gary started pulling the teeth.”

“And do these teeth match?”

“Oh, yes,” she said with satisfaction. “Definite match. Perfect match. Can't you see?”

“They look good to me, but I'm no expert. And I'm being distracted by that ghostly effect.”

“It
all
matches.” She pointed. “See how the bite line on the skull is even with the lip line on the photograph.” She tapped the nasal opening. “And this is the same size and shape as the nose. The eyeballs are centered in the orbits of the skull. There are several other checkpoints and they all match.”

“So what happens now?”

“I print out several copies of this picture on the screen and go to the next photograph.”

“But you told me this was a definite match.”

“For an ordinary person. Not for the President of the United States. Every feature has to be verified. I need a better side shot of the ear canal and the muscle attachment at the side of the—”

“I get your point.” Logan held up his hand to stop the flow of words. “Can I help?”

“You can go talk to Gary and pacify him until I finish. He'll be pouncing on me any minute.”

“I hear. I obey.” He rose to his feet. “Pacifying seems to be all I'm good for these days. It's annoying not to be able to take action myself.”

“I prefer you in passive mode,” she said dryly. “Every time you take action, I sink deeper into this quicksand.”

“No comment.” He strode across the lab toward Kessler.

She looked back at the screen. She had known the superimposition would validate the work she'd done on the skull, but it still sent a ripple of excitement through her. One more block in the wall of evidence she had to build. “We're getting there, Ben,” she whispered.

She hit the print button on the Sony video printer.

3:35
A.M.

It was raining.

She hadn't realized that when she was working in the lab. Now she leaned against the open doorway of the front entrance, looking out over the manicured lawns of the campus. The cool, humid air felt good in her lungs as she took a deep breath.

She should be tired, but she was still pumped from working on the match.

“You shouldn't be out here.” Joe was leaning against the brick wall a few yards from the door. “Go back inside.”

“I need some air.”

“Did you finish?”

“I finished the superimposition. Gary's barely started on extracting the DNA.” She looked at his clothes. “You're wet.”

“Not much. The overhead ledge protects me. It kind of feels good.” He grimaced. “I guess I'm a little hot under the collar.”

“I noticed. But you shouldn't blame Logan. It was my decision to do the job. I knew there was a risk. The fee was just too good.”

“I'll bet he didn't let you know how risky before he drew you in.”

“It was still my decision.” Why was she defending Logan? Joe was right to condemn Logan's methods and she had been as angry as Joe when she found out how she had been used. She changed the subject. “It's late. You shouldn't be here. Diane will be worried.”

“I called her.”

“If you told her you were with me, then that wouldn't stop her from worrying. She had to have seen CNN.”

“I didn't tell her.”

“You
lied
to her?”

“No, I just told her I was working late.”

“That's almost a lie. I'd be furious if you weren't honest with me.”

“You're not Diane. She prefers to be kept in the dark when something unpleasant raises its head. She's never become accustomed to being married to a cop. She'd much rather I quit the force and find something with a little more prestige to do.”

“Well, I can't argue the situation isn't as unpleasant as it comes, but I'd still want to brain you. Marriage should be a partnership.”

“There are all kinds of marriages.”

“I don't suppose I should be surprised. You don't tell me everything either.” She glanced away from him, staring into the distance. “For instance, you never mentioned you'd killed anyone in the line of duty.”

“You've had enough violence in your life. You didn't need any more.”

“Was that your decision? Just like the one you made to protect Diane? Keep the delicate females away from any hint of unpleasantness.”

“Did I want to protect you?” he asked roughly. “Hell, yes. But I also wanted to protect myself. I knew you'd be like this. I didn't want you to look at me and see Fraser.”

“I'd never do that. I know you. I'm sure you did only what you had to do.”

“Then turn around and let me see your face.”

She braced herself, turned, and looked at him.

“Shit,” he said through his teeth.

“I just have to become accustomed to the idea. I feel as if I don't really know you.”

“You know me better than anyone on this earth, just as I know you better than anyone else does.”

“Then why didn't you tell me about—”

“All right, I'll tell you.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You want a body count? Three. Two of them were into drug running. The third just liked killing and reminded me of Fraser. I've often wondered if that one really was self-defense. Maybe I didn't want to take the chance of him walking.” His voice lowered. “And I never lost a minute's sleep over any of them. Does that make you feel like you know me any better?”

“Joe, I don't—”

“Do you want me to talk about my stint in the SEALs? No, I can see you don't. Three is enough for you. You don't want the grim reaper's shadow anywhere near you. I knew that and accepted it.”

“Why didn't I hear about those deaths?”

“Because I saw that you didn't want to know about them. Figuring that out was easy. You never watched or read local news after Bonnie. I just had to make sure no one in the department talked.” He gazed into her eyes. “And I'd do it again. You weren't ready to face the idea that I wasn't Andy Griffith ambling around Mayberry. You may never be ready.” His glance shifted past her to the hall leading to the lab. “And I'm not pleased with our Mr. Logan for stirring up this hornet's nest.”

“Then you shouldn't have threatened him.”

“Do you think I don't know that? I was stupid. I was angry and I let you see it.” He smiled recklessly. “Or maybe I'm lying to myself. Maybe I meant to do it. It could be I was sick and tired of— But how the hell long do you think I can keep everything inside without—” He took a long breath. “Don't blow what we've got, Eve. We've been together a long time. Like you said, you know me.”

“Do I?” she whispered.

“Okay, we'll start over. I'll be honest with you even if it tears you apart. Satisfied?” He turned away from her. “Because I'm not. But then, I'm used to that. It's become a way of life to me.”

“What do—”

“This isn't getting us anywhere. I've got to go check out the perimeter.” He started down the steps. “But don't worry, if I find any bad guys, I'll handle them with kid gloves. We wouldn't want any more blood on my hands, would we?”

He was angry with her. Maybe he had a right. He was her friend, closer than a brother, and she had pushed him away and closed him out. Joe knew her too well not to be aware of everything she was feeling.

But she didn't know him that well. She had thought she did, but she'd had no idea of all that he'd hidden from her.

Face it, she hadn't wanted to know. Policemen dealt with violence every day and, if she had let her-self think about it, she would have known it would touch Joe.