“And you didn’t have to do it,” Catherine said. “You became a family.” She smiled faintly. “A very strange family. Eve Duncan, a famous forensic sculptor, Joe Quinn, a police detective, and you, a kid from the streets.”

“We learned to mesh,” Jane said. “Eve was no problem. Joe was slower. But we both loved Eve, so we worked at it.” She smiled. “And then as we got to know each other, it wasn’t work any longer. Funny how love makes everything easier.”

“Yeah, funny.” Catherine pulled into the McDonald’s drive-through. “Do you want anything besides coffee?”

“No.”

“Black?”

“Yes.”

She studied Catherine as she gave the coffee order. How much love had Catherine had in her life, she wondered. Eve had told her she’d been a street kid like Jane but had grown up in Hong Kong. She’d married a much older man, then been widowed. She had come into Eve’s life when she’d asked Eve to help her find her son, who had been kidnapped by a Russian criminal wanting revenge on Catherine. Eve had helped her rescue him, and they had become close friends. There was no doubt in Eve’s mind that Catherine adored her son, Luke. But Jane had gotten the impression that, other than Luke, Catherine’s life had been her job as a CIA agent.

“You’re looking at me as if you’re trying to take me apart.” Catherine’s look was quizzical as she handed Jane her coffee. “Is it your artist’s eye, or are you taking aim?”

“Maybe a little of both.” Jane met her gaze. “I admit the first thing I thought when I saw you was that I’d like to paint you. But you’ll definitely be on my list for extermination if you had anything to do with Joe lying in that hospital. Tell me what happened to him.” She looked away, and added, “Let me start you on the path. It was about Bonnie, wasn’t it?”