Shadow Play Read Free

rock star or movie actor. She’d missed so much during those eight years. “Thank you. It may help to know something about her.”
    â€œI thought it might. I read a couple articles about you before I sent you the skull. You were quoted as saying that you liked to do anything that brought you closer to the victim. You said for some reason it seemed to make the sculpting process easier. The reporter made a lot of that remark.”
    â€œHe was looking for a hook for his story. I made the mistake of giving it to him.”
    â€œIt was a good hook. It was what made me send the skull to you. I liked the idea of someone’s caring enough to want to get close to a victim.”
    â€œI feel sympathy for any victim, but the closeness of which I spoke only occurs during the actual sculpting process. That’s really the only part of reconstruction that has the potential for creativity.”
    â€œAnd bonding?”
    â€œYou’re putting words in my mouth.”
    â€œMaybe. I’m trying to make sure I did the right thing, sending her to you. I feel responsible.”
    â€œShould I send that skull back to you?”
    â€œNo, ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’d appreciate it if you’d get right on it, please.”
    â€œNo offense taken. You just seem very possessive about this skull.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought about when I researched you, Ms. Duncan. Two of a kind?”
    â€œNo.” Though those words were eerily close to what Joe had said, she thought. “Perhaps I do feel a responsibility and closeness to my work while I’m doing a reconstruction, but I’d never feel possessive. I only want to set them free.”
    Nalchek chuckled. “I haven’t gotten there yet. I feel like that little girl still belongs to me just like the minute we pulled her out of that grave. Maybe after you get me a face, I’ll be able to let her go. Good night, Ms. Duncan. You’ll let me know how it goes?”
    â€œI imagine that you’ll make sure I do,” she said dryly. “Good night, Sheriff.” She hung up.
    Nalchek wasn’t entirely what she had thought. She would still bet that he was young, but he wasn’t inexperienced and had a toughness that made his insistence about her doing the reconstruction all the more puzzling.
    A nine-year-old girl, buried over eight years.
    I felt like she was calling to me.
    â€œEve.” Joe was standing behind her in the doorway. He was carrying two cups of coffee. “Done?”
    She nodded and took the cup he handed her. “For the time being.” She moved toward the porch swing and curled up next to him as he sat down. She sighed with contentment as she gazed out at the lake. The fragrance of the pines, the moonlight on the lake, Joe beside her at this place they both loved. “Nalchek is very polite, very concerned. And he’s going to be a thorn in my side until I finish her.”
    â€œThen don’t take his calls.”
    â€œThat’s one solution.”
    A breeze was lifting her hair, and it made everything in this moment all the more wonderful. This perfect place, this perfect man for her.
    That little girl had not lived long enough to have a perfect anything. That took time and searching and the wisdom to know it when you found it.
    â€œThen do it.” Joe put his arm around her. “Why not?”
    â€œI’ll think about it.”
    But she knew she wouldn’t do it.
    I felt like she was calling to me.
    *   *   *
    â€œSo did your bone lady come through for you, Nalchek?”
    Nalchek looked up as Deputy Ron Carstairs came into the office. He was a friend as well as coworker, and Ron had been riding him since the night they’d found the little girl. He was a good guy, and they’d worked together for five years, but he didn’t understand why Nalchek hadn’t just dropped this investigation and pushed it into the