Read Online Hunting Eve by Iris Johansen - Free Book Online

reconstruction on Kevin, but it was possible. First, he’d check out houses and businesses in the area, then start doing some tracking himself.
    He flipped open the dossier and looked down at the photo of Eve. The moonlight only revealed a dark shimmer of an image, but he found he didn’t need any more. He knew her face by now. He had looked at it, studied it, thought about it for the last few days. Maybe, for the last five years. Why? Who the hell knew? He had thought he knew himself very well, but he couldn’t deny he’d been drawn, fascinated, by the idea of Eve Duncan.
    “It’s not for you,” he whispered. “I have my own reasons for going after Doane. I wouldn’t do it for you.”
    His phone pinged, and he accessed the map Weiner had sent him.
    The tower encompassed a hell of a large area. Google it for any likely buildings? No, he could do that on the way. Time to start moving.
    He got to his feet and called Stang. “I’m heading for Colorado. Call the airport and tell them to get the plane ready for takeoff.”
    Stang was silent. “You’re going after her,” he said softly. “You’re going after Eve, aren’t you?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going after Doane.” He headed for the door. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”
    Lake Cottage
    KENDRA COULD SEE THE CAR’S headlights jerkily emerge from the lake surface as the crane lifted it. The bank was swarming with people, and it was daylight bright from the floods. A tall, older man appeared to be giving the orders. That must be Venable, she thought; he breathed authority.
    She stopped some distance away to avoid getting in the way and watched the crane do its work.
    “Hi, you must be Kendra. Joe Quinn told me you were coming.”
    Kendra turned to see a young girl step out of the trees. Slim, medium height, light brown hair, probably not over nineteen or twenty. She was tan and glowing with the sheen of sheer vitality. She wore jeans and a shirt, and her bare feet were in thongs. She was smiling, and Kendra instinctively smiled back. “Yes, and you are?”
    “Margaret Douglas.”
    “Oh, the friend of the family?”
    “Is that what they called me?” Margaret’s smile broadened to delighted brilliance. “That’s nice. What else did they say?”
    “Not much. Except that you were an informant.” No one could appear less likely in that role than this young, vibrant girl. “Is that true?”
    “Well, sort of … more of an interpreter.” She giggled. “Informants hang out in dark parking garages like that Watergate story about Deep Throat, don’t they?”
    “I’m not sure. I guess there are informants and informants. Where do you hang out?” She looked down at Margaret’s semibare feet. “The beach?”
    “Sometimes. I just came from an island in the Caribbean, and I’m used to my flip-flops. Where’s Joe? Why didn’t he come with you?”
    “He had something else to do.” She took a step closer to the bank as the blue car was lifted high by the crane. “Jane MacGuire wasn’t doing too well. I told him to take her to the hospital.”
    “Dammit. I thought she looked bad earlier tonight.” Margaret was looking back at the cottage. “And it looks like Joe’s going to do as you suggested. I see the headlights of his car.” She was frowning. “I should be with her.”
    “No one can take better care of her than Quinn,” Kendra said. “And they’re family. It’s his job.”
    “You’re wrong. It’s my job. She saved my life and took that bullet for me. When Doane’s partner, Blick, was targeting Jane, she pushed me aside. I owe her.”
    “And that’s why you’re here?”
    “I owe her,” Margaret repeated. “You have to pay your debts.”
    “You must be doing your best to do that if you’re involving yourself to the extent of delving and acting as an informant to—”
    “Wait.” Margaret held up her hand. “I can see why Joe was casting around for a way to explain my presence without going into awkward