"Mmm," she agreed, but she was really hoping that Tim and Marty were underground so deep they would never be heard from again.

"Could the baby have been born while Mrs. Russell was in captivity," a voice asked, "and then thrown over the cliff into the river, and that's why you haven't found it despite tearing up every square inch of this property?"

"Oh," Eve said. The thought of beautiful baby Cory being tossed alive into the river was unbearable. Her eyes filled with tears. Eve said. The thought of beautiful baby Cory being tossed alive into the river was unbearable. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Eve?" Jack was looking at her.

She tried to listen to the officer's answer, but her mind felt thick and foggy.

"Eve? Honey, what's wrong?"

She looked at him. "I was just thinking of how cruel that would be," she said. "Throwing the baby..." She shook her head, unable to even say the words.

Jack had deep frown lines between his eyebrows. "You're not yourself, Eve," he said. "Is it the RA? Are you trying to cover it up so you don't upset me? Because I don't want you to do that."

"I'm just feeling a little emotional these days," she said with a shrug, but his words echoed inside her head. Not yourself. Not yourself. She felt CeeCee slipping back inside her, full of the insecurities and craziness that led her to do things Eve never would have done. She felt CeeCee slipping back inside her, full of the insecurities and craziness that led her to do things Eve never would have done.

Chapter Forty-Five.

She was getting ready to go to the play the following Friday night, smoothing the wildness out of her hair with her curling iron, when Jack walked into the bathroom.

He picked up his toothbrush. "They found one of those guys," he said.

No. She lowered the curling iron to the counter. "One of what guys?" she asked. She lowered the curling iron to the counter. "One of what guys?" she asked.

"You know, those kidnappers." Jack spread toothpaste on the bristles of his brush.

"You're kidding," she said. "Where? How did you hear?"

"It was just on the news."

She walked into the bedroom and turned on the TV, changing the channel to CNN.

"Did they show pictures or anything?" she called to Jack. Maybe they had the wrong guy. Please let them have the wrong guy. Please let them have the wrong guy.

Jack stood in the doorway, toothbrush in hand. "I just caught the tail end of it. They said they found him in California." He looked at his watch. "Honey, we only have about twenty minutes."

"I know," she said. "I'm ready. I just..."

A picture of a man flashed on the screen. He was handcuffed and being led by a guard or a police officer, someone in uniform. Eve sat on the bed, leaning close to the screen. The prisoner was fiftyish, wiry and bald. For an instant, the camera caught his eyes, translucent as green gla.s.s. Tim.

You pig, she thought. she thought. You lying, cheating pig. You lying, cheating pig.

"Timothy Gleason, suspect in the kidnapping and murder of Genevieve Russell, has been arrested in California," a male voice said. "Gleason was living in Modesto under the name Roger Krauss and was working as a bartender." A police officer, the same man who had given the press conference the week before, appeared on the screen, again in front of a bank of microphones. "Gleason accompanied the arresting officer without resistance," he said. "We expect him to be extradited to North Carolina immediately, where he'll be charged with the kidnapping and murder of Genevieve Russell and her baby."

The camera returned to Sophia Choi at the news desk. "Police reported that Gleason was turned in by a cousin, David Gleason, whose family owned the cabin near where Russell's body was found two weeks ago," Choi said. "David Gleason said he knew that his cousins had gone underground, but hadn't realized the seriousness of the charges against them until Russell's body was discovered. He said that the other suspect, Martin Gleason, died of a heart attack in 1998."

"Okay." Jack laughed from the doorway of the bathroom. "You got your news fix. Now let's get going."

She nodded, getting to her feet. The room spun and she nearly lost her balance. Was she going to get sick again?

She walked woodenly into the bathroom and leaned against the counter as she waited for the dizziness to pa.s.s. Then she switched off the curling iron and turned away from her reflection in the mirror. Right now, her hair was the last thing on her mind.

During her break the next day, she went to the faculty lounge to watch CNN. She was glad she was the only person in the lounge, because she probably looked as crazed as she felt when the footage of Tim aired. He was being led quickly toward a car in preparation for extradition to North Carolina, but a reporter managed to dive in front of him to ask if he killed Genevieve Russell and her baby.

"I kidnapped her," he said, a bit breathless as he was rushed past the camera, "but I didn't kill her or her baby."

A man walking next to him-his lawyer, most likely-whisked the reporter away with a wave of his hand. "We have no further comment," he said, grasping Tim's elbow and pushing him forward.

Eve sat still when the footage ended. She stared into s.p.a.ce, wondering if Tim had already told his attorney about the girl who knew he'd murdered no one. The girl who knew what really happened in the cabin on the Neuse River.

She looked at her watch. Nearly one. Time for her weekly appointment with a first-year student, Nancy Watts, whose obsessive-compulsive disorder was getting in the way of her studies. Eve walked back to her office thinking that she was the last therapist who should be working with a student who had OCD. At least now, she could have some real empathy for the demons Nancy had to deal with much of the time.

Nancy was waiting for her, and Eve ushered her into her office. She was a likable young woman who was highly motivated to conquer the hand washing and repet.i.tive thoughts that were d.o.g.g.i.ng her. She started to tell Eve about the improvement she'd made during the week, but Eve barely heard a word she said. She felt tense and jumpy and kept shifting her gaze from Nancy's face to the window, through which she could see the entrance to her building. At any moment, she expected to see a police officer walk through that entrance with a warrant for her arrest.

Okay, she thought to herself. she thought to herself. Stay calm. Stay calm. So Tim tells his lawyer about CeeCee Wilkes. How would they be able to find out that CeeCee became Eve Bailey, who became Eve Bailey Elliott? Maybe it would be impossible. Maybe her tracks were so well covered that no one could ever learn the truth. So Tim tells his lawyer about CeeCee Wilkes. How would they be able to find out that CeeCee became Eve Bailey, who became Eve Bailey Elliott? Maybe it would be impossible. Maybe her tracks were so well covered that no one could ever learn the truth.

If, though, they somehow found Naomi and Forrest and could get them talking, she was doomed. Did they still live on that run-down piece of property outside New Bern? Were they still together? G.o.d. She remembered the box of disguises, the magically appearing doc.u.ments and the general insanity in that household. Ugh. Ugh. She'd been such a fool. If only she could turn back the years and make different choices. Take herself back to the coffee shop where she'd worked with Ronnie and ignore the overtures of the s.e.xy guy in the corner. If only she had kept her mind focused on her goal: getting into school. If only. She'd been such a fool. If only she could turn back the years and make different choices. Take herself back to the coffee shop where she'd worked with Ronnie and ignore the overtures of the s.e.xy guy in the corner. If only she had kept her mind focused on her goal: getting into school. If only.

Then of course, she would never have had Cory, and that thought, despite her daughter's antipathy toward her, was so painful it made her jerk in her seat.

"Eve?" Nancy asked. "Are you all right?"

"What? Oh, yes." She smiled. "Just had a sudden chill." What had Nancy been talking about? She tried to rewind the young woman's dialogue in her memory, but it was gone. She hadn't registered a word of it.

"Nancy," she said. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat what you just told me? My mind slipped away for a moment."

Thank G.o.d, Nancy was the easygoing sort. "Sure," she said, and she proceeded to tell her about the ritual she went through before bed every night and how it was driving her roommate crazy. Eve managed to pay attention, nodding and empathizing, for only another minute or two before her mind returned to her own travails. So the cops would somehow find Naomi and Forrest, who would tell them they'd sent CeeCee Wilkes to live with Marian Kazan in Charlottesville. Marian would be easy to find; just stop anyone on the street and ask if they knew her.

"Marian?" they'd say. "Of course! Everyone knows Marian. She lives in the retirement home on Sycamore Street."

At eighty-nine, Marian was still sharp as a tack, if not particularly agile. Eve visited her a couple of times a month, taking her books or magazines or movies for her VCR. Marian would do her best to protect her if the cops questioned her, but she might realize the jig was up. Even if she denied that Eve had ever lived with her, there were a hundred people who knew the truth. The connection would be made. The path to Eve's door suddenly looked easy to follow. I'm trapped, I'm trapped, she thought. She would be caught, but it was Cory who would suffer most when the truth came out. She couldn't let that happen. she thought. She would be caught, but it was Cory who would suffer most when the truth came out. She couldn't let that happen.

"I think your mind is slipping again," Nancy said.

She was looking straight at Nancy without hearing her.

"Eve?" Nancy asked again.

Eve brought her attention back to the young woman in front of her. "Yes," she said.

"I don't think you've heard a word I said today."

"I'm so sorry, Nancy." Eve let out a long breath. "You're right. I've got some things on my mind, and I probably shouldn't even have tried to work today. Listen, can you come in tomorrow?" She reached for her Day-Timer. "I promise I'll have my head back together by then."

Nancy looked concerned. "Are you sure you're okay? You're really pale."

Would Nancy know the truth in a week? In two weeks? Eve would be the talk of the university. People would speculate as to whether or not Jack had known what she'd done. If he did, then he was a criminal himself, they'd think. If not, his marriage had been a lie.

"I have cla.s.s all morning," Nancy said. "Do you have anything in the afternoon?"

Eve's hands shook as she opened the Day-Timer, and it took her a moment to find the right page. "Three o'clock is free," she said.

"Okay." Nancy handed her a pen. "Write it in. Do you want me to write it in for you?"

Eve laughed, the sound false and jarring. "I'll do it," she said, writing Nancy, Nancy, unable to remember the girl's last name. She got to her feet. "And again, I apologize," she said. "Tomorrow will be better." unable to remember the girl's last name. She got to her feet. "And again, I apologize," she said. "Tomorrow will be better."

Then again, she thought, she thought, tomorrow I might be in jail. tomorrow I might be in jail.

Chapter Forty-Six.

As she walked through the entrance of the independent-living residence, Eve spotted Marian feeding the fish in the lobby's huge aquarium. Even with her back to Eve, Marian was instantly recognizable. That straight spine. The white hair that she still wore in a pageboy. It was hard to believe she was nearly ninety.

Eve came up behind her. "How's my favorite octogenarian?" she asked, slipping an arm around Marian's shoulders.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, Eve!" Marian said as she bussed her cheek.

"I thought I'd stop by to invite you to a play," Eve said. "Jack and Dru are both in it and it runs for a couple more weekends."

"I'd love that," Marian said. She used a key to open a cupboard near the aquarium and put the box of food inside. "Let's have a seat and catch up." She motioned toward the large area off the lobby where residents played cards or read or people-watched. There were a lot of those-the people watchers-and Eve felt exposed as she walked across the room. Several residents looked up from their card games. A couple of women, recognizing her from previous visits, waved.

Marian guided her toward the alcove near the window, and Eve wondered if she'd intentionally selected the spot for privacy. Did she know what was going on and want to talk to her about it?

"How are you doing?" Eve asked Marian, as she took a seat in the corner. "You look terrific, as always."

"Fantastic," Marian said. "And how about you?"

"I'm fine."

"Jack and the girls? Is Cory talking to you these days?"

"Not much," she said.

"She's still engaged to that fool?"

Eve laughed. "I'm trying to be more kindhearted about him."

"Well, you're welcome to think of him however you like," Marian said. "But I don't like a man who comes between a woman and her family."

"Cory loves him, though."

"I'm hoping she'll outgrow it."

A moment of silence stretched between them as Eve readied herself to dance around the issue she'd come to discuss. Did Marian remember her long-ago reaction to the news about Genevieve's kidnapping? Are you aware of the situation with the wife of UVA's president? Are you aware of the situation with the wife of UVA's president? she could ask. She'd planned to question her carefully. Instead, she blurted out in a whisper, "Have the police come here to see you?" she could ask. She'd planned to question her carefully. Instead, she blurted out in a whisper, "Have the police come here to see you?"

"The police?"

"Shh," Eve said. "Have they?"

"No. Why would they?"

Eve hesitated. Maybe Marian didn't remember any of it. Maybe she didn't remember that she'd taken her in under an a.s.sumed name or that she'd supplied her with a high-school transcript. She'd only known her as Eve Bailey, and she'd known her that way for a very long time.

"I just-"

"Are you in trouble, Eve?"

Eve hesitated. "I hope not," she said.

"The past catching up to you?"

"I hope not," she repeated. "I-"

"Hush," Marian said quickly. "Don't tell me anything. Don't remind me of anything. All I remember is that you came to my house to help me with my day care. In return, I gave you room and board. Then I took care of Cory while you went to school. I introduced you to Jack. You married him, and we're the best of friends. I don't remember more than that." She looked hard at Eve.

"You really don't?" Eve asked, not sure if she believed her.

"That's right. But I would would remember if the cops had come to see me. That you can be sure of." remember if the cops had come to see me. That you can be sure of."

"And they haven't."

"No, dear. They haven't." She c.o.c.ked her head, narrowed her eyes. "You're really scared, aren't you?"

Eve nodded.

"How realistic is it that they could be looking for you?"

"Very realistic. Frighteningly so."

"Then you'll be in my prayers," Marian said. "I never knew what brought you to me. I didn't know what had happened to you or what you'd done. But whatever it was, you are not that person-that little girl-anymore. If the police come, that's what I'll tell them. That you're a marvelous woman. A marvelous mother."

"I haven't been that marvelous when it comes to Cory," Eve said. "I smothered her. I made her fearful."