"Lord, I hope not." She laughed. "Wouldn't that be something?"

"Fun, maybe."

"Oh, Jack, you're crazy. I'm going to take a bath and go to bed," she said. "Give Dru a hug for me."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Thanks, no." She walked past him toward the bedroom, closing the door behind her. In the bathroom, she turned on the water in the tub and sat on the edge, fighting the nausea that rose up inside her again. She undressed, dropping her clothes to the floor, then stepped into the tub, holding tight to the grab bars as she sank into the water. She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"I'm scared," she whispered into the air. "I'm so scared."

She woke up later that night around ten, her entire body aching. She'd always discounted the idea that stress could exacerbate her arthritis. In the decade she'd been struggling with RA, she could find no correlation between the pain and the events going on in her life. Some of her most painful and crippling times had been during the most placid periods in her marriage, and some of her best times had been during the stressful period when they were taking care of Jack's ailing mother.

But right now, she couldn't deny the mind-body connection. Her hands and feet had the viselike pain she remembered from the days before the new drug had come on the market. Was she going to have to dust off the scooter again? she wondered. She hadn't needed it in a couple of years; it would be like going backwards, admitting defeat. You've lived fifteen years longer than your mother did, You've lived fifteen years longer than your mother did, she told herself as she got out of bed. she told herself as she got out of bed. Count your blessings. Count your blessings.

Dru was still here-she heard her voice in the living room. Swallowing an anti-inflammatory, she pulled on a robe and walked out to greet her.

Jack and Dru sat on opposite ends of the sofa, scripts open on their laps.

"Hi, honey," she said to her daughter. Dru looked great. She'd finally found the right hairstyle. Her dark hair was cropped very short, the curls and waves tight to her head. With the focus off her thick hair, her large brown eyes took center stage.

"Are you feeling any better?" Jack asked.

"I'm having a little pain tonight," she said.

Dru got up to give her a hug. "You're limping, Mom," she said. "And Dad said you got sick earlier."

"Maybe I've got a bug." Eve sat down in the chair near the fireplace. "I forgot to tell you, Jack. The letter I wrote to Cory and Ken inviting them to the play was returned unopened. Someone-I'm guessing it was Ken-wrote 'return to sender' on the envelope."

"Their loss," Jack said.

"I got an e-mail from Cory this afternoon," Dru said. "She didn't mention the invitation, so I bet she never even got to see it. She said that Ken's been a.s.signed to the Russell thing, so she's all excited. It's really the first big a.s.signment he's had and apparently it's a big deal that they gave it to him."

"What does that mean, he's a.s.signed to it?" Eve asked.

"I don't know. Just, like he's the reporter who covers it for his station, I guess."

"How else is she?" Jack asked.

"Enigmatic, as usual," Dru said with a laugh. "She told me she's being considered for a big promotion. Then in the next sentence, she says she can't take the kids on a field trip because it involves going more than a couple of miles outside Raleigh."

"Tell her about the play," Eve said. "Maybe she'll come if the invitation is from you."

"I doubt it," Dru said, "but I'll tell her."

Eve made herself a cup of tea, while Jack and Dru continued rehearsing. She said good-night to them, carrying the tea to the bedroom, where she turned on the eleven-o'clock news. There was nothing new in the Russell case on 29, and she flipped through the channels. Larry King was interviewing a guy who suggested that Genevieve Russell had been kidnapped for her baby. "The baby was cut out of her," he said. "That crime is far more common than anyone knows."

King seemed skeptical. "But she was taken by the Gleason brothers to try to force then-Governor Russell to get their sister off death row, right?"

"That's what was understood at the time. But why then is the baby missing?"

"Good question," King said, then he looked into the camera. "We'll be back after this message."

Eve clicked off the television.

So, Ken was reporting on the Gleason case, she thought. His plum a.s.signment. What was he learning? What did he know? She looked at the clock. It was too late to call Cory now, but she'd try her early in the morning. It was a Sat.u.r.day; Cory wouldn't have to rush off to work. With any luck, she might even answer her phone.

Chapter Forty-Three.

Cory did did answer her phone when Eve called her the next morning. answer her phone when Eve called her the next morning.

"Oh, hi, Mom," she said. She sounded disappointed, and Eve guessed she'd picked up the receiver without looking at the caller ID display. Still, she felt the way she always did when she had a connection with Cory, no matter how fragile that connection might be. She wanted to reach through the phone line and hug her. Tell her how much she missed her. She'd learned not to even try.

"Hi, honey. How are you?" Eve sat on the sofa in the living room, not wanting to disturb Jack, who was still asleep. She'd awakened in pain, hobbling to the bathroom and then out here to make this call.

"I don't have much time," Cory said. "I'm going to the gym in a few minutes."

"I just..." Eve closed her eyes. Oh, she missed Cory! She missed the girl Cory used to be. The girl she'd loved and kept close to her. Too Too close, Cory would say. But she didn't dare tell Cory what she was thinking. close, Cory would say. But she didn't dare tell Cory what she was thinking.

"Dru told me that Ken got a plum a.s.signment on the Russell news story," she said, "and I just wanted to call to say congratulations."

Cory was silent, probably thinking that this was a very weird communication from a mother she hadn't spoken to in months. A mother who had never hidden her disdain for Ken. It was was very weird. very weird.

"Yes," Cory said finally. "He's pretty happy about it. I guess it's big news up there, too, huh?"

"Very. Though it doesn't seem as though they're getting very far with their investigation. The last I heard was that they couldn't find the...the baby."

"Right. Which is bizarre. Ken's actually down in New Bern now."

"I guess they're still searching the grounds?"

"Ken said they're tearing the place up. Did you hear about the gun and knife?"

"Lorraine thought they'd found a gun."

"And a b.l.o.o.d.y knife," Cory said. "They haven't said that in the papers yet. They told Ken to keep it quiet, but I think they'll be going public with it really soon. It's a major scoop for him."

"So..." She remembered cutting the cord. Gloves on. Had her gloves been on? How long would fingerprints last on a knife buried in the dirt for nearly three decades? "I'm surprised blood would last all these years on a knife."

"Yeah, well, it did," Cory said. "So they've got both a gun and a b.l.o.o.d.y knife and they don't know yet which killed her."

Eve was quiet for a moment. It hadn't occurred to her that they would see the knife as a murder weapon. It had been used to bring Cory into the world.

"Hmm," she said, just to acknowledge that she was still on the line.

"Now some people are wondering if they cut the baby out of her and then shot her. Or vice versa."

"I heard that on Larry King last night."

"If that's what happened, I sure hope she was dead first."

These were the most words she'd heard from her daughter in ages. Maybe the key with Cory was to talk to her about something other than their relationship. Maybe that had been her mistake all along.

"Well, I'm very glad for Ken that he's gotten this."

"Why?" Cory asked. "You don't like him."

"I never said I didn't like him, Cory."

"Oh, come on, Mother."

"It doesn't matter if I do or don't," Eve said. "I love you and you love him, so what's good for him is good for you."

"That's true," Cory agreed. "Thanks. And I'm sorry, Mom, but I've got to run."

"One more thing." Eve hurried. "I sent you a letter telling you that Dru and Dad are going to be in a play together at the Helms Theater next week. Did you get it?"

"A letter? Uh-uh."

"Well, you-and Ken-are invited as my guests if you'd like to come."

"I don't think we can, but thanks for letting me know."

"I miss you, honey." The words slipped out of Eve's mouth.

"Don't start, Mom. Please."

"I can't talk to you and pretend..." She shook her head. "Never mind. Thank you for picking up the phone."

"You're welcome," Cory said. "And tell Dad I said hi."

Chapter Forty-Four.

"I think you're obsessed," Jack said when he walked into the living room an hour later. She was eating breakfast-a bowl of Cheerios, which was all she could manage-in front of the TV. think you're obsessed," Jack said when he walked into the living room an hour later. She was eating breakfast-a bowl of Cheerios, which was all she could manage-in front of the TV.

"I'm just fascinated by it, that's all," she said. She was was obsessed. She was certain other people were following the Russell story almost as intently as she was, but they were hoping for some new intriguing tidbit. Eve, on the other hand, wanted as few new tidbits as possible. She was waiting to hear something she didn't want to hear. She was waiting for the name CeeCee Wilkes to pop up in connection with Genevieve Russell. obsessed. She was certain other people were following the Russell story almost as intently as she was, but they were hoping for some new intriguing tidbit. Eve, on the other hand, wanted as few new tidbits as possible. She was waiting to hear something she didn't want to hear. She was waiting for the name CeeCee Wilkes to pop up in connection with Genevieve Russell.

"They're going to have a press conference in a minute," she said.

Jack sat next to her. "How are you feeling?" he asked, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"Okay. Better." She forced a smile as he put his arm around her.

"You kind of scared me last night," he said. "I haven't seen you in that much pain in so long."

"Scared me, too," she said. "I'm still a little stiff." That was an understatement. "But I'll be okay."

"You're better because Cory talked to you."

"Maybe."

She'd told him a little of her conversation with Cory, but not that she'd picked her daughter's brain about the Russell case. She felt an emptiness inside her chest that she could not open up to Jack. She hadn't felt this way since Russell first came to UVA, when she'd been unable to let Jack know why she suddenly wanted to leave Charlottesville. She hated the wall between them, the wall he didn't even know was there. Or maybe he did. Maybe that was part of the concern she saw in his face this morning.

"Here they are," he said, nodding toward the TV as a uniformed officer stepped up to a bank of microphones.

The officer chatted with another man quietly for a moment, their words silent on the television. Then it was the officer alone on the screen. He cleared his throat as he checked his notes.

"We've found both a gun and a chef's-type knife in the shallow grave where Genevieve Russell's remains were discovered," he said. "Fingerprints could not be recovered from either the gun or the knife, but the gun was registered to Timothy Gleason, who along with his brother, Martin, is suspected of kidnapping Mrs. Russell. The blood on the knife, we know, was Mrs. Russell's."

"No surprise there," Jack said. "Whose else would it be?"

A picture of the brothers was on the screen. Tim was on the left, Marty on the right. Even after all this time and in spite of all she knew about him, young Tim's s.e.xy grin tugged at her belly. How could that be? How could she not be repulsed by him?

"Of course," the officer said, "these pictures were taken twenty-eight years ago. The Gleasons are now in their late forties and early fifties, and are almost certainly living under a.s.sumed ident.i.ties." The officer looked to his left. "Yes?" he asked.

A male reporter out of camera range addressed the officer. "Is the gun the only evidence that Timothy Gleason was at this cabin?" he asked.

"Does that sound like Ken?" Jack asked her.

"Don't know," she said quickly, wanting to hear the police chief's answer.

"The people who owned the cabin at the time of the abduction were relatives of the Gleason brothers," he said.

She'd forgotten that. Tim and Marty used to stay there with their cousins.

"Were the relatives involved in the abduction?" a female voice asked.

"We don't know that right now," the officer said. "We have reason to believe there were others involved, but that's something I can't get into at this juncture."

Eve tensed, wishing she knew what he was talking about. What others was he referring to?

"What does 'juncture' actually mean?" Jack asked. "It's a great word, don't you think? Juncture." He repeated it to himself, because he knew she was not listening to him. "Junc-ture," he said again. Then he tousled her hair. "Hope they find those guys and hang them by their earlobes."