Eve of Darkness Page 33


“I was in the garden with your mother. What’s up?” It took her a moment to reply. “Nothing. Just wanted to hear your voice.”


“You don’t sound good. What’s the matter?” Her dad was using the low concerned tone that always made her want to spill her guts. She’d learned to hold her tongue over the years. He was a great listener but a poor doer. It was Miyoko who argued with teachers and principals on her children’s behalf. She was also the one who never let her kids live down mistakes, rehashing them whenever she deemed the time was right.


“My neighbor died this morning.” Eve was croaking like a frog, but she couldn’t help it—her throat was tight as a fist. Alec’s hands stroked up and down her back, which just made it worse.


“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” her dad said. “I know how much you liked her.”


“I did. Very much.”


“Hang on. Your mother wants the phone.” Her dad couldn’t hide his relief. Dealing with emotions wasn’t his forte.


Eve gave a shaky sigh.


“What happened?” Miyoko demanded in the clipped tone of a seasoned nurse. When a crisis hit, she always became no-nonsense and precise.


“Mrs. Basso died this morning.”


“Heart attack?”


“I don’t think so,” Eve said.


“What did the paramedics say?”


“They haven’t said anything to me.”


“Hmph. Go ask.”


“I can’t.”


“Why not?”


Eve grimaced. “Because I can’t, Mom. And does it really matter how she died? She’s gone, and I’m devastated.”


The doorbell rang. Alec pressed his lips to her forehead, then moved to answer the summons.


“I have to go,” Eve said. “I’ll call you back in a bit.”


“Okay. Call back soon.”


She snapped her phone shut and shoved it back into its dedicated pocket in her Coach bag. She wasn’t a designer junkie by any means, but she had to have purses that didn’t fall apart. Period.


“Sorry to trouble you again,” Detective Ingram said.


Alec kept him out in the hall.


Eve rubbed at the space between her brows. She didn’t have an actual headache, but she definitely felt stressed. Making sure her parents were safe was vital, and she wanted it done now.


“I’m sorry, but I am in a hurry, Detective,” she said impatiently.


“I just need to know if you touched anything next door.” He had one hand at his waist while the other stroked the end of his handlebar mustache. “The forensic team will do their job, of course, but it’s always nice to know what you’re going to find.”


“The phone in the living room,” she said. “To call 911.”


He nodded, his gaze moving past her to sweep across her living room. “Nice place. My partner says you’re an interior designer.”


“Yes.” She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. “If you will excuse me.”


Ingram stilled, his gaze narrowing on something beyond her shoulder. Eve turned to see what had caught his eye.


The bowl that had once held the water lily rested empty on the coffee table. Alec had moved it there after she’d ground up the flower in the disposer. Eve cringed inwardly.


“Can I help you with something?” Alec asked, stepping into the detective’s line of sight.


Ingram attempted to peer around Alec’s tall frame. “Where did you get that bowl on your table?”


“I bought it,” she replied tightly.


“Do you have the cups?”


“What?”


He looked at her. His eyes weren’t dull anymore—they were sharp as knives. “The cups that go with that punch bowl.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“That is a three-gallon punch bowl from Crate and Barrel. It comes as a set with ten matching cups and a plastic ladle. If you bought the bowl, you must have the cups, too.”


“I didn’t get it at Crate and Barrel.”


“Where did you get it?”


“I don’t know. Salvation Army, maybe?” Eve shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Listen, I really have to get going.”


“Ah, that explains the missing cups.” Ingram tugged on his mustache. “Do you want to know why I know so much about punch bowls, Ms. Hollis?”


“Not really. I—”


“I’ve seen a few of those particular bowls lately,” he continued. “Too many of them. Saw one this morning, actually. Right next door. Did your bowl come with a flower in it?”


“No.” Her mark burned something fierce and her jaw clenched. Like a damned electric dog collar, the mark was acting like a behavior modifier. “Are we done now?”


Ingram’s attention turned to Alec. “What about you, Mr. Cain? Do you have to run out, too? I might have a few questions for you.”


“I can’t add any more to what Ms. Hollis has already told you,” Alec said. “And yes, I’m going with her.”


Eve admired Alec’s poise. He looked calm and relaxed, while she felt strung-out and edgy.


“Mind if I take that bowl?” the detective asked.


“Actually,” Alec answered before she could. “We need that.”


She looked at him with raised brows. She didn’t want it in her house. Part of her also hoped the Nix had left something identifiable behind, like fingerprints.


“You promised to bring a punch bowl to the employee party,” he said.


The sudden tension weighed heavily. It had never occurred to her that the mark system might need the item. Now the detective was even more suspicious. She could smell it on him.


She winced apologetically. “He’s right, Detective. I’m sorry about that. You can have it when we’re done with it.”


“If it doesn’t break or go missing first.” Ingram’s hands went to his hips in what she suspected was a customary pose for him. It spread the lapels of his suit wide and accentuated his portly midsection. “I’m trying to catch a serial killer, Ms. Hollis, and you know more than you’re telling me. If this guy has contacted you, I need to know. If he’s threatened you, I can help.”


Eve held her pose for the length of a heartbeat, then all the rigidity left her. This man wasn’t the enemy. He was a good guy, fighting the good fight. “If I had anything helpful, I would share it. I swear.”


The mark didn’t burn, because she was telling the truth. Nothing she could say would help the police. But it didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.


Detective Ingram pointed a frustrated finger at her. “Don’t travel far without letting me know where you’re going.”


She suspected she could argue the legality of that order, but didn’t see the point. She wasn’t going anywhere while that Nix was out there. “Okay.”


Ingram left. Alec retrieved the punch bowl and they exited her home, locking the door securely behind them. She grimaced as she turned the key in the multiple locks. Once she’d thought such barriers would be a deterrent that would keep her safe.


No one was safe.


As they moved down the hall, a gurney rolled out of the Basso home. Eve halted in her tracks, devastated by the sight. Two paramedics stood at either side. She recognized one immediately, even without seeing the name Woodbridge embroidered on his shirt. He paused.


“Hey,” Woodbridge said. “I thought I remembered seeing this address recently. How are you?”


Eve’s chin lifted. “She was my friend.”


“I’m sorry.” Concern filled his blue eyes.


“Thank you. I appreciate that.”


Alec took up a position beside her, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. It was a proprietary gesture and it added to her stress. Her life was complicated enough as it was.


She watched as Mrs. Basso was taken away and the full force of her loss hit her. She thought of all the movies and meals they’d never share. No more unexpected visits that cheered her day. No one else to shop for when she went to the store.


Eve suddenly felt very much alone.


“We should go,” Alec murmured, squeezing her hip gently.


Nodding, she skirted the people milling around the hall and waited for the elevator to return. She stepped inside and released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. As the doors closed, shutting out the view of the chaos on the floor, Eve absorbed the fact that her world had irrevocably changed.


Whether she shed the mark or not, her life as she knew it was over.


Stepping into a firm was always a heady rush for Alec, no matter which one he visited or where it was located. His entire body hummed with energy and his heart rate lurched into an elevated rhythm, as if the other Marks shared their energy with him. He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of hundreds of Marks confined in one space.


Beside him, Eve made a choked noise. Her nose wrinkled, making him wonder what sensory input she received. She appeared to find the smell disturbing rather than pleasant. Then he pushed the thought aside. Of course everything would be disturbing to her. It was all new and unwelcome, and she’d received a terrible shock today. One thing at a time. Making sure her parents were safe was first on his agenda. He knew Eve wouldn’t be able to function properly until that was ensured.


“This way,” he said, directing her toward a set of elevators tucked away from general public use. Unlike the private elevators that went directly to Raguel’s office, these cars only went down to the bowels of the building. There, nestled deep into the earth, existed a small complex complete with morgue and various specialized departments.


Eve didn’t appear to notice where they were going. As the elevator descended, her gaze remained on the floor, unfocused. Alec adjusted his grip on the punch bowl and reached out to her, stroking her bare arm. She was so far away mentally she didn’t register his attempt to connect. He withdrew and leaned against the metal handrail. He had no idea how to get inside her beyond the physical and it left him feeling . . . impotent, which in turn was driving him insane.