And John Logan.
She dressed quickly in jeans and a loose white shirt, her uniform when she was working, and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
Mom, I overslept. Why didnt you
No one was in the kitchen. No smell of bacon, no frying pans on the stovehellip; The room appeared the same as it had been at midnight when shed come in.
And Sandra hadnt been home when shed gone to bed. She glanced out the window, and relief rushed through her. Her mothers car was parked in its usual spot in the driveway.
Shed probably gotten in late and had overslept too. It was Saturday and she didnt have to work.
Eve would have to be careful not to mention shed been worried, she thought ruefully. Sandra had no-ticed Eves tendency toward overprotection and had a perfect right to resent it.
She poured a glass of orange juice from the re-frigerator, reached for the portable phone on the wall, and dialed Joe at the precinct.
Diane says you havent called her, he said. You should be phoning her, not me.
This afternoon, I promise. She sat down at the kitchen table. Tell me about John Logan.
There was silence at the other end of the line. Hes contacted you?
Last night.
A job?
Yes.
What kind of job?
I dont know. Hes not telling me much.
You must be thinking about it if youre calling me. What did he use as bait?
The Adam Fund.
Christ, has he got your number.
Hes smart. I want to know how smart. She took a sip of orange juice. And how honest.
Well, hes not in the same category as your Miami drug runner.
Thats not very comforting. Has he ever done anything criminal?
Not as far as I know. Not in this country.
Isnt he a U.S. citizen?
Yes, but when he was first establishing his com-pany he spent a number of years in Singapore and Tokyo trying to improve his products and studying marketing strategies.
It seems to have worked. Were you joking when you said he probably left a few bodies by the wayside?
Yes. We dont know much about those years he spent abroad. The people who came in contact with him are tough as hell and they respect him. Does that tell you anything?
That I should be careful.
Right. He has the reputation of being a straight shooter and he inspires loyalty in his employees. But you have to consider that all of that is on the surface.
Can you find out anything more for me?
Like what?
Anything. Whats he been doing lately thats un-usual? Will you dig a little deeper for me?
Youve got it. Ill start right away. He paused. But its not going to come cheap. You call Diane this afternoon and you come down to the lake house with us next weekend.
I dont have time to She sighed. Ill be there.
And without any bones rattling around in your suitcase.
Okay.
And you have to have a good time.
I always have a good time with you and Diane. But I dont know why you put up with me.
Its called friendship. Sound familiar?
Yeah, thanks, Joe.
For digging out the dirt on Logan?
No. For having been the only one holding back the madness that had clawed at her during all those nights of horror, and for all the years of work and companionship that had followed. She cleared her throat. Thanks for being my friend.
Well, as your friend, Id advise you to go very carefully with Mr. Logan.
Its a lot of money for the kids, Joe.
And he knew how to manipulate you.
He didnt manipulate me. I havent made any decision yet. She finished her orange juice. Ive got to get to work. Youll let me know?
That I will.
She hung up the phone and rinsed out her glass.
Coffee?
No, shed make a pot at the lab. On weekends Mom usually came down in the middle of the morning and had coffee with her. It was a nice break for both of them.
She took the lab key from the blue bowl on the counter, ran down the porch steps, and started for the lab.
Stop thinking about Logan. She had work to do. She had Mandys head to finish and she had to go over that packet the LAPD had sent her last week.
Logan would call her today or come to the house. She hadnt the slightest doubt. Well, he could talk all he pleased. He wouldnt get an answer from her. She had to find out more about
The lab door was ajar.
She froze on the path.
She knew she had locked it the previous night as she always did. The key had been in the blue bowl, where she always threw it.
Mom?
No, the door jamb was splintered as if the lock had been jimmied. It had to have been a thief.
She slowly pushed open the door.
Blood.
Sweet Jesus, blood everywherehellip;
Blood on the walls.
On the shelves.
On the desk.
Bookcases had been hurled to the floor and ap-peared to have been chopped to pieces. The couch was overturned, the glass on all the picture frames had been shattered.