The Face of Deception Read Free Page A

addict?”
    “Not any longer. She got off the stuff years ago.”
    “What about Eve Duncan?”
    “She was never on dope. Which was a wonder. Practically everyone else in her neighborhood was sniffing or shooting, including Mama. Her mother was illegitimate and had Eve when she was fifteen. They lived on welfare in one of the worst areas of the city. Eve had Bonnie when she was sixteen.”
    “Who was the father?”
    “She didn't list him on the birth certificate. Evidently he didn't claim the child.” He pressed the button to start the tape again. “There's a picture coming up on the screen of the kid. CNN really wrung the story for all it was worth.”
    Bonnie Duncan. The little girl was dressed in a Bugs Bunny T-shirt, blue jeans, and tennis shoes. Her red hair was wildly curly and there was a smattering of freckles on her nose. She was smiling at the camera and her face was alight with joy and mischief.
    Logan felt sick. What kind of world was this in which a monster could kill a kid like that?
    Novak's gaze was fixed on his face. “Cute, huh?”
    “Fast-forward.”
    Novak pressed the button and the scene was back outside the prison.
    “How old was Duncan when the kid was killed?”
    “Twenty-three. The little girl was seven. Fraser was executed two years later.”
    “And the woman went bonkers and became obsessed with bones.”
    “Hell no,” Novak said curtly. “Why are you being so rough on her?”
    Logan turned to look at him. “Why are you being so defensive?”
    “Because she's not— She's got guts, dammit.”
    “You admire her?”
    “From her head right down to her toes,” Novak said. “She could have given up the kid for adoption or gotten an abortion. She kept her instead. She could have gone on welfare like her mother and repeated the pattern. She kept the baby in a United Fund nursery during the day while she worked and did correspondence courses at night. She was almost finished with college when Bonnie disappeared.” He looked at Eve Duncan on the screen. “That should have killed her or sent her spiraling back where she came from, but it didn't. She returned to school and made something of her life. She has a degree in fine arts from Georgia State and is certified as a computer age progression specialist at the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children in Arlington, Virginia. She also received advanced certification for clay facial reconstruction after training with two of the nation's foremost reconstruction artists.”
    “Tough lady,” Logan murmured.
    “And smart. She does forensic sculpting and age progression as well as computer and video super-imposition. Not many people in her profession are experts in all those areas. You saw the clip from
60 Minutes
on how she rebuilt the face of that kid who was found in the Florida swamps.”
    He nodded. “It was incredible.” His gaze returned to the video. Eve Duncan's tall, thin body was clothed in jeans and a raincoat and appeared terribly fragile. Her shoulder-length red-brown hair was soaking wet and framed a pale, oval face that held agony and desperation. The brown eyes behind her wire-rimmed glasses reflected the same desolation and pain. He looked away from the screen. “Can we find anyone else as good?”
    Novak shook his head. “You asked for the best. She's the best. But you may have trouble getting her. She's pretty busy and she prefers to work on lost-children cases. I don't suppose this has anything to do with a child?”
    Logan didn't answer. “Money is usually pretty persuasive.”
    “But it may not mean that much to her. She could be making a lot more money if she took a university appointment instead of working freelance. She lives in a rented house in Morningside, an area close to downtown Atlanta, and she has a lab in a renovated garage in the back.”
    “Maybe a university hasn't made her an offer she couldn't refuse.”
    “Maybe. They're not in your league.” He raised his brows. “I don't suppose