Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [70]
“Like you.”
Eve didn't deny it. “At least I can give other parents back their children. I suppose that's a form of closure.”
“Bull. Very noble but it doesn't keep you from hurting.”
“No.” Eve smiled faintly. “May I ask why you're so interested in my work tonight?”
“I'm always interested. It's kind of creepy but it's part of you.”
“The creepy part.”
“You said it.” Jane grinned. “I wouldn't dare. So Lucy is winging her way back to Chicago tomorrow?”
“Probably.” Eve lifted her brows. “Is it important that she be finished quickly?”
“Maybe. I've been sitting here and thinking. . . .” Her gaze focused musingly on the skull. “How does she . . . feel?”
“Touching her face?” She was silent, thinking about it. “Not creepy. I've done it so long that it's difficult to describe.”
“Pity?”
“Yes, and anger and sadness.” She gently touched Lucy's cheek. “And a deep, deep urgency to bring her home. Home has always been so important to me. There are so many lost ones out there.”
“I've heard you say that before. Do you really think that her soul is somewhere wandering around and that she cares about being brought home?”
“I don't know. Maybe. But I do know I care.” Eve smoothed the clay at Lucy's forehead. “Now go to bed and let me work or I'll never get her finished.”
“Okay.” Jane stood up. “I was just curious.”
“Jane.”
Jane glanced back over her shoulder.
“Why now?” Eve asked. “You've never been this curious about my work before.”
Jane turned back to face her. “I've never been brought this close to the possibility of my own death before. It's bound to make you wonder what's out there for us.”
“Right now, the only thing out there for you is a long and happy life.”
“Don't worry. I'm not being gloomy and pessimistic. I don't know why all this came tumbling out of left field. I was sitting here watching you and thinking about something completely different when it occurred to me . . .” She paused. “Cira is one of those lost ones. Nobody seems to know what happened to her. She probably died in that eruption.”
“Two thousand years ago, Jane.”
“Does time make a difference? Lost is lost.”
“No, I guess not. It's just that it takes away the personal, familiar factor.”
“No, I don't agree.” She reached up and touched her own cheekbone and traced the line to her temple. “I'm taking this very personally. She had my face.”
“And it bothers you that she's one of the lost ones?”
“I don't know. Maybe she wasn't lost at all. Maybe she wasn't killed. Maybe she lived to be a hundred with her great-great-grandchildren all around her.”
“It's possible.”
“Yeah, but I've been asking myself, what if you're right and lost souls have a passion to come home? What if these dreams I've been having have been her way of telling me that she needs to be found and brought to a final resting place?”
“Is that what you think? I have to point out that it's a totally unrealistic conclusion.”
“Because it's your duty.” She was silent a moment. “I'm not sure what's real anymore and I don't believe you are either. It makes as much sense as thinking I'm picking up psychic vibrations.” She grimaced. “But it would help if I had a little guidance. Perhaps you should ask Bonnie what's happening to me.”
“Is that a joke?”
“Not an unkind one. She rules your world and that's fine with me. Just thought we'd put her to work.” She moved down the hall. “Forget it. We'll work everything out for ourselves. But try to finish Lucy tonight.”
She booted up her laptop as soon as she reached her bedroom, and went immediately to the Archaeology Journal site. Very dry stuff. It was hard to believe a sicko like Aldo would be interested in it. No articles in the current issue about Herculaneum.
She tensed, drew a deep breath, and accessed the porn site. She'd glanced through it earlier but she had to be sure. . . . After five minutes she had to get out of it. Horrible. It seemed impossible that anyone could relish this kind of obscenity. Forget it. Go on to the next site. They were all forming a picture of Aldo that was growing clearer