Together with the realization that Joe Quinn was growing farther and farther away from her every minute she continued to search for the body of her murdered daughter, Bonnie. All the years of love and living together that might be coming to an end because she couldn’t bear not to continue to try to bring her Bonnie home. Years ago, her child had been kidnapped and presumed murdered. When they later discovered that Ralph Fraser, who had confessed and been executed for multiple murders, was not the killer, she had started on the search to find the man who had taken her daughter.

And Joe had been with her through it all, giving her support and love. First as an FBI agent, then with the ATLPD, but always right beside her. He’d been there to pull her out of the depths of depression, give her encouragement when she’d decided to go back to school and become a forensic sculptor to help bring closure to other parents of children who had been lost. He had been her lover, her friend, her protector.

Until this last year, when he had grown weary and frustrated at the constant threat to Eve. That last danger from Henry Kistle might have been the final straw.

Don’t think about it. Think about seeing Jane and the fact that Joe had not walked away from her yet. He’d been fine when she’d left home this morning. Maybe she could work out the-

Her cell phone rang. Jane.

“I’m on my way,” she said when she picked up. “Was your flight early? I thought I had another thirty minutes.”

“You probably have a hell of a lot more time than that,” Jane said. “I’m in Charlotte, North Carolina. My plane had a mechanical problem and landed here. They’re trying to put us on another flight. It looks like a two- or three-hour delay.”

“Damn. Well, I’ll come out and wait anyway.”

“You will not. Go back home. I’ll call you when I’m ready to board the flight.”

Eve thought about it. “You’re probably right. I should be able to get back in plenty of time to meet you at baggage claim.”