Eight Days to Live by Iris Johansen Page B

sheer white chiffon. “It looks like something from a ten-year-old girl’s wish list.”
    “When you were ten, would it have been on your wish list, Jane?”
    “No, I was always suspicious of anything that was too pretty. I was a tough little kid.” She braced herself. “And now that you’ve tried to put me at ease, hadn’t you better start the interrogation?”
    “Interrogation? You make me sound like a cop.”
    No, he was nothing like a cop. His gentle persistence was much more insidious. He would just sit there, smiling that beautiful smile and waiting for her to speak.
    “You want to know about Seth Caleb.”
    He nodded. “Will it be easier if I ask you questions?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “The main thing I want to know is why you think Caleb can find Weismann when Venable is having trouble?”
    “It’s what Caleb does. He has a passion.”
    “For hunting. What kind of hunting, Jane?”
    “He finds people who can’t be found.”
    “For whom?”
    “He works principally for the Devanez family, who are his relations, but he takes other assignments if they interest him. I know he spent years hunting down a cult that was responsible for the death of his sister.”
    “Ah, vengeance. Good punishing evil?”
    “In a way. It’s not that simple. Yes, as far as I know, the people he hunts are slimeballs who deserve to be punished. But Caleb doesn’t pretend to be the sword of justice. He’s not that hypocritical.”
    “And by what means is your wonderful hunter able to find those people?”
    Dammit, she had known that question would come. “He’s . . . unusual.”
    “You said that before and in just that tone. I’m intrigued. Are you going to explain?”
    “Yes.” She might as well stop stumbling around and just come out with it. “Caleb has certain talents. One of them is an ability to change people’s perception.”
    “You mean he’s very persuasive.”
    “No.” She shrugged. “I mean that give him a few minutesalone with anyone, and he can convince them that they want to do anything he wants them to do. He can turn hatred into friendship. If he asks anyone questions, they’re going to answer him. Which would help enormously if you’re on the hunt for someone.”
    “I imagine it would,” Jock said absently, his gaze studying her face. “Let me understand you. You’re talking about a psychic ability?”
    “I know that it sounds weird.”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “You don’t have to believe me. That’s why I didn’t want MacDuff coming along. I knew I’d have trouble with him thinking I was off my rocker. I wouldn’t blame him. I’m not sure I believe it. I’m a realist, and what I ran across with Caleb was out of my comfort zone. But I saw him do it with the grandfather of my friend, Patty. He changed him from a bad-tempered bastard to someone almost pleasant. He didn’t promise that it would be permanent, but even Patty could see the difference in her grandfather.”
    “One case.”
    “I was skeptical, too.” She paused, then said reluctantly, “He gave me a personal demonstration.”
    “Personal?”
    “Don’t ask. I was ready to murder him.” She added, “But he can do it, Jock. If anyone can find Weismann, it will be Caleb. He’s spent most of his life hunting down people.”
    “And what does he do when he catches them?”
    Her grasp tightened on the paper cup. “I imagine his death count may be as high or higher than yours, Jock.”
    “Really?” He leaned back in his chair. “You do seem to draw us lost souls to you, don’t you, Jane?”
    “But he’s not like you,” she said sharply. “It wasn’t your fault. You were sick. You had no choice. He decided on the path he was going to travel.”
    “There’s always something that triggers that decision. What was his trigger, Jane?”
    “He had . . . other talents. His background is very dark. For hundreds of years those psychic gifts were passed down through his family. Back in the fourteenth century his