gazed hungrily at her. “I do need you. Every minute of every day.”
“I can't be here all the time. And you have other people who love you. Joe. Jane.”
“Jane may be in trouble. I'm afraid for her.”
Bonnie nodded soberly. “I'm afraid for her too. He's close.”
“Who's close?”
“The bad one.” She unfolded her legs and they dangled above the floor of the porch.
Such a little girl, Eve thought. So small and dear . . . “You don't know who he is?”
She shook her head. “Only that he's bad.”
“Like the man who killed you?”
“I can't think of that time, Mama. It's gone. So I can't answer you. But I know that the man who killed Ruth is twisted and dark.”
“I'm glad you can't remember that time, baby.” She cleared her throat. “But it's damn convenient you can't tell me any concrete facts. What good is a ghost if she's not useful?”
Bonnie threw back her head and laughed. “I'm useful. I keep you from going around all gloomy and suicidal. Besides, I don't have to be useful. You'll love me anyway.”
“Yes, I will.”
“And you'll love Jane, no matter what.”
“I'm not sure she believes that.”
“She's afraid to believe it. She's been hurt too many times.”
“That was a long time ago. Joe and I have tried to make up for all those years.”
“She's not like me. The bad times are still with her.”
“So what the hell can I do?”
Bonnie shook her head. “She has to work her way through it.”
“If she has time. If some bastard doesn't kill her like he did you.”
“You won't let that happen.” She tilted her head, listening. “I think Joe's almost finished talking on the phone. I'd better leave you. Do you know when I'll know you don't need me any longer?”
“I'll always need you.”
She shook her head. “You won't need me when you're so close to Joe that you'll share me with him. When you tell him I come to see you.”
“And have him tell me I'm nuts?”
“See, you're not ready.” She suddenly frowned. “Jane's dreaming again. She's scared. You'd better go to her.”
Eve rose to her feet. “She was fine before I came out here.”
“She's not now. Wake her. She can't do anything right now. She wants help, but there's nothing that— Wake her.”
Eve headed for the front door. “If she's not dreaming, your credibility is going to be zilch.”
Bonnie smiled. “Wake her. Good-bye, Mama. I'll see you soon.”
“You'd better.”
She opened the screen door and saw Joe still sitting on the couch talking on the phone. She glanced back at the porch swing and saw what she expected. Vacant. No Bonnie.
“I'll be right with you,” Joe said when he saw her in the doorway. “Give me a few more minutes.”
She nodded. “I'm going to check on Jane anyway.” She moved down the hall toward Jane's room. “It shouldn't take me long.”
Joe had hung up the phone and was pouring coffee from a freshly brewed pot when she came back in the room. “Okay?”
She frowned. “No, she was having another nightmare. I got her a glass of water and talked to her for a few minutes.”
“Did she tell you about it?”
She shook her head. “She said it was probably indigestion from too much of that ice cream cake after dinner.”
“Well, at least she didn't blame my steaks.” Joe handed her the cup and poured one for himself. “Did she settle down?”
“Yes, or pretended she did.” She sat down on the couch and glanced down at his notepad. “I gather you got through to Trevor?”
“Actually, he called me back before I started placing the call. He said he was an early riser and thought since I sounded so urgent that he'd take a chance on reaching me.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Not much. He said that they'd virtually come up with nothing in all these years. That they had no idea of the identity of the killer.”
“Then how did they track him here?”
“By following a trail of murders with the same MOs. He said he knew that killings like these were a compulsion that wouldn't stop and there were no more reports in the U.K. . . . So he started monitoring the killings in Europe and on this side of the Atlantic.”
“Then he has to know more than we do. Couldn't you get him to talk?”
“I did most of the talking. He zeroed in on Ruth and wouldn't let go. He was very interested in the fact that her fingerprints were obscured.”
“You told him about Jane?”
“No, I told him I