Chasing the Night by Iris Johansen

you.”
    “I’ve made sure of any dire consequences. But you’re such a valuable tool for him. He might have given you a small gift in return.”
    “What are you getting at?”
    “Isn’t there a song about a rainy night in Georgia?”
    She stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Yes, you do. You just had a cozy dinner with your newfound friends. Do you really think that Eve Duncan can help you, Catherine?”
    Her gaze flew to the darkness beyond the porch. “You have someone here watching me?”
    “Of course, I always keep my eye on you. And no, there’s no use trying to track him down. I pulled him out as soon as I had the information I wanted. Now tell me about Eve Duncan.”
    She was silent a moment. “I hired her to do an age progression on Luke. I’m a mother. I want to know what my little boy looks like.”
    “Touching. What a sentimental motive.”
    “Every mother is sentimental about her child. You’ve played on that emotion for years. You shouldn’t be surprised.”
    “Oh, I’m not surprised. I knew when I took your cub away from you that even a tigress loves her off spring. That’s why you’ve given me such joy. Strike at the child, and it makes you go through a living hell.”
    “I wanted to see what he looks like,” she repeated.
    “But perhaps not for sentimental reasons. Are you thinking of taking my toy away from me?”
    “You’ve seen that I have no chance of doing that. After all this time, why would I even make the attempt?”
    “Desperation?”
    “I’d never risk Luke. You’ve told me enough times what you’d do to him if I tried anything.”
    “Perhaps. Sometimes one can become calloused and numb to a constant threat.”
    “I’m not numb.”
    “No, I keep you raw and bleeding, don’t I? But I find it interesting you chose Duncan to do the age progression. Her fame lies in another direction.”
    “She’s very good.”
    “But she’s better with her skulls. I’ve decided that it must have been fate that led you to her.”
    “Fate?”
    He said softly, “You’ll have need of a reconstruction, not an age progression.”
    Catherine inhaled sharply. “You’re lying.”
    “No, I killed Luke when he was five years old. Venable was getting too persistent about releasing him, and I grew angry. No one can tell me what to do. I shot your son in the head and buried him in the woods. He was frightened and crying. He knew about guns and what they could do. I’d had him taught about them from the time I took him.”
    Catherine closed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. You’ve told me you’ve killed him before, then said you were lying. You’re just trying to hurt me.”
    “It’s a possibility.” He added maliciously, “But you can’t be sure. You haven’t talked to him. You have only me to rely on for any information about Luke. I control him. I control you.”
    “He’s alive. I know it.”
    “He’s buried in the woods. If it suits me, I may dig him up and send his skull to Eve Duncan. I’ll have to think about it.”
    “You bastard,” Catherine whispered.
    “Or send word to Venable where he can find him. Why shouldn’t he do the work? He and his cohorts in Washington have been irritating me lately.”
    “You’re lying.”
    “What if I’m not? I think you’ll have nightmares tonight envisioning Luke scared and crying right before I shot him.” He chuckled. “Go ahead. Work on that age progression. But don’t take it past five years. It would be totally futile.” He hung up.
    Eve reached out. “Catherine, I know—”
    “Don’t touch me. Not yet.” She huddled sidewise, leaning on the arm of the porch swing. “I’m…hurting.” Her voice was shaking. “I’m sorry. I don’t like you to—Give me time…”
    Good Lord, she was hurting, Eve thought. Her back was arched, and Eve could almost feel the vibrations of the agony she was emitting.
    “Is there anything I can do?”
    “No.”
    “Screw it.” Joe was suddenly kneeling before