It’s bad enough I’m having to put off other commitments, I won’t push her aside.”
Jill nodded. “Sorry. I knew that, I just didn’t think. If you’ll give me your passport, I’ll get out of your way so you can get back to her.”
“Fine.” Eve went to the kitchen cabinet where she and Joe kept their documents in a lockbox. “You’re being amazingly cooperative.” She handed her the passport. “I’ll call you when I’m available to leave.”
“Cooperative?” Jill’s brows rose as she slipped the passport in her pocket. “I know how lucky I am that I talked you into going. I’m not about to rock the boat. Anything you need, just let me know.”
“I’ll do that.” Eve gave her a cool glance. “And neither of us should pretend that luck had anything to do with your persuading me to commit to several weeks doing the reconstructions on those children. You were clever. You made sure you knew what would push every button. And you played me.”
“Yes, I did,” Jill said quietly. “But I still consider myself lucky that you allowed me to do it. If I work hard enough to make this trip easy for you, I hope you’ll forgive me.” She smiled with an effort. “I’ll be in touch soon if you don’t mind. Just to see if there’s anything you need.” She turned and walked quickly toward the door. “In the meantime, I’ll e-mail you those names and contacts I mentioned might be useful to you.” She looked back over her shoulder. “I’m sure your Nora will turn out wonderfully. Good-bye, Eve.” Then she was gone.
Eve stared after her for a moment. There was no reason to feel as if she had somehow hurt Jill and should try to heal the hurt. Eve was the one who had been maneuvered into throwing her life into chaos for the next few weeks. And Jill Cassidy had not even denied it was done deliberately. Yet the emotion she felt for those children had to be genuine, and where was the line drawn in the sand where brutality toward children was concerned? Eve had never found it.
Forget Jill Cassidy. Eve had made the decision. Now she had to cope with making the best of it.
She was still drinking her coffee as she crossed the room toward the skull on her worktable. As she’d told Jill, she’d need the caffeine.
“Okay, Nora.” She stopped in front of the reconstruction. “We’re almost there, but now you have to help me. You’re going to have to tell me who you are, show me what to do…”
* * *
Jill dialed Jed Novak as she walked toward her car. “It’s done,” she said jerkily. “She’ll be ready to leave in twenty-four hours if she finishes the current reconstruction by then. I think she will. She’s driven right now.”
“Putty in your hands, Jill?” Novak asked mockingly.
“Don’t say that,” Jill said fiercely. “It’s stupid. She’s not putty in anyone’s hands. I made a situation impossible for her, and she’s just trying to survive it. She’s a completely private person, and she knows I probed deep to get what I wanted from her.”
“Easy,” Novak said. “Bad joke?”
“Very bad joke.” She stopped as she reached her car and drew a deep breath. “And a very bad meeting with a woman I admire, Novak. She’s smart, and nothing really gets past her. So you need to prepare very carefully. I’ve given her your name and a few others to pave the way. She might call you. Make her feel comfortable.” She paused. “Have you heard anything from Jokan?”
“Not yet. Only a few rumbles. We still have time.”
She wasn’t as sure about that as Novak. “Let me know if it changes. I’m not going to let Eve go near the place if it does.”
“But you’d go yourself,” Novak said softly. “Who’s going to stop you, Jill?” He added wearily, “It probably wouldn’t be me. Never mind. I’ll let you know.” He cut the connection.
No, it wouldn’t be Novak, Jill thought. She had never known anyone as tough or more ruthlessly motivated than Novak. He would get the job done no matter who fell by the wayside.
Yet he hadn’t been ruthless after he’d taken her to that hospital in Nairobi, she suddenly remembered. He’d swept her into the ER, giving orders and making everyone snap to attention. Then he’d stayed with her, guarding her, watching that she was given the best possible attention.
And he’d been there, moving shadowlike in the background, for the entire four