The Face of Deception (Eve Duncan) - Softcover

Johansen, Iris

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0553578022 ISBN 13: 9780553578027

Publisher: Bantam, 1999

Synopsis

An unidentified skull...

A trail of terrifying secrets...

And a woman whose talented hands could reveal the shocking truth...

As a forensic sculptor, Eve Duncan helps identify the dead from their skulls.  Her own daughter murdered and her body never found, the job is Eve's way of coming to terms with her personal nightmare. But more terror lies ahead when she accepts work from billionaire John Logan. Beneath her gifted hands a face emerges from the skull he has given her to reconstruct—a face no one was ever meant to see.  Now Eve is trapped in a frightening web of murder and deceit. Powerful enemies are determined to cover up the truth, and they will make certain that truth goes to the grave...even if Eve gets buried with it.

About this title

About the Author

Iris Johansen is the New York Times bestselling author of Killer Dreams, On the Run, Countdown, Firestorm, Fatal Tide, Dead Aim, No One to Trust and more. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia.

From the Back Cover

"One of her best...a fast-paced, non-stop, clever plot in which Johansen mixes political intrigue, murder and suspense."
--USA Today

"The book's twists and turns manage to hold the reader hostage until the denouement, a sure crowd pleaser."
--Publishers Weekly

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

"You look beautiful," Eve said.  "Where are you going tonight?"

"I'm meeting Ron at Anthony's.  He likes the food there." Sandra leaned forward and checked her mascara in the hall mirror, then straightened the shoulders of her dress.  "Damn these shoulder pads.  They keep shifting around."

"Take them out."

"We all don't have broad shoulders like you.  I need them."

"Do you like the food there?"

"No, it's a little too fancy for me.  I'd rather go to the Cheesecake Factory."

"Then tell him."

"Next time.  Maybe I should like it.  Maybe it's a learning type thing." She grinned at Eve in the mirror.  "You're big on learning new things."

"I like Anthony's, but I still like to pig out at McDonald's when I'm in the mood." She handed Sandra her jacket.  "And I'd fight anyone who tried to tell me I shouldn't do it."

"Ron doesn't tell me--" She shrugged.  "I like him.  He comes from a nice family in Charlotte.  I don't know if he'd understand about the way we lived before-- I just don't know."

"I want to meet him."

"Next time.  You'd give him that cool once-over and I'd feel like a high school kid bringing home my first date."

Eve chuckled and gave her a hug.  "You're crazy.  I just want to make sure he's good enough for you."

"See?" Sandra headed for the door.  "Definitely first-date syndrome.  I'm late.  I'll see you later."

Eve went to the window and watched her mother back out of the driveway.  She hadn't seen her mother this excited and happy in years.

Not since Bonnie was alive.

Well, there was no use staring wistfully out the window.  She was glad her mother had a new romance, but she wouldn't trade places with her.  She wouldn't know what to do with a man in her life.  She wasn't good at one-night stands, and anything else required a commitment she couldn't afford.

She went out the back door and down the kitchen steps.  The honeysuckle was in bloom and the heady scent surrounded her as she walked down the path to the lab.  The aroma always seemed stronger at twilight and early morning.  Bonnie used to love the honeysuckle and was always picking it off the fence, where the bees constantly buzzed.  Eve had been at her wit's end trying to stop her before she got stung.

She smiled at the recollection.  It had taken her a long time to be able to separate the good memories from the bad.  At first she had tried to save herself from pain by closing out all thoughts  of Bonnie.  Then she had come to understand that that would be  forgetting Bonnie and all the joy she had brought into her and Sandra's lives.  Bonnie deserved more than--

"Ms.  Duncan."

She stiffened, then whirled around.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you.  I'm John Logan.  I wonder if I could speak to you?"

John Logan.  If he hadn't introduced himself she would have recognized him from the photo.  How could she miss that California tan? she thought sardonically.  And in that gray Armani suit and Gucci loafers, he looked as out of place in her small backyard as a peacock.  "You didn't frighten me.  You startled me."

"I rang the doorbell." He smiled as he walked toward her.  There was not an ounce of fat on his body, and he exuded confidence and charm.  She had never liked charming men; charm could hide too much.  "I guess you didn't hear me."

"No." She had the sudden desire to shake his confidence.  "Do you always trespass, Mr.  Logan?"

The sarcasm didn't faze him.  "Only when I really want to see someone.  Could we go somewhere and talk?" His gaze went to the door of her lab.  "That's where you work, isn't it? I'd like to see it."

"How did you know it's where I work?"

"Not from your friends at the Atlanta P.D.  I understand they were very protective of your privacy." He strolled forward and stood beside the door.  He smiled.  "Please?"

He was obviously accustomed to instant acquiescence, and annoyance surged through her again.  "No."

His smile faded a little.  "I may have a proposition for you."

"I know.  Why else would you be here? But I'm too busy to take on any more work.  You should have phoned first."

"I wanted to see you in person." He glanced at the lab.  "We should go in there and talk."

"Why?"

"It will tell me a few things about you that I need to know."

She stared at him in disbelief.  "I'm not applying for a position with one of your companies, Mr.  Logan.  I don't have to go through a personnel check.  I think it's time you left."

"Give me ten minutes."

"No, I have work to do.  Good-bye, Mr.  Logan."

"John."

"Good-bye, Mr.  Logan."

He shook his head.  "I'm staying."

She stiffened.  "The hell you are."

He leaned against the wall.  "Go on, get to work.  I'll stay out here until you're ready to see me."

"Don't be ridiculous.  I'll probably be working until after midnight."

"Then I'll see you after midnight." His manner no longer held even a hint of his previous charm.  He was icy cool, tough, and totally determined.

She opened the door.  "Go away."

"After you talk to me.  It would be much easier for you to just let me have my way."

"I don't like things easy." She closed the door and flicked on the light.  She didn't like things easy and she didn't like being coerced by men who thought they owned the world.  Okay, she was overreacting.  She didn't usually let anyone disturb her composure, and he hadn't done anything but invade her space.

What the hell, her space was very important to her.  Let the bastard stay out there all night.



She threw open the door at eleven thirty-five.

"Come in," she said curtly.  "I don't want you out there when my mother comes home.  You might scare her.  Ten minutes."

"Thank you," he said quietly.  "I appreciate your consideration."

No sarcasm or irony in his tone, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.  "It's necessity.  I was hoping you'd give up before this."

"I don't give up if I need something.  But I'm surprised you didn't call your friends at the police department and have them throw me out."

"You're a powerful man.  You probably have contacts.  I didn't want to put them on the spot."

"I never blame the messenger." His gaze traveled around the lab.  "You have a lot of room here.  It looks smaller from outside."

"It used to be a carriage house before it was a garage.  This part of town is pretty old."

"It's not what I expected." He took in the rust and beige striped couch, the green plants on the windowsill, and then the framed photos of her mother and Bonnie on the bookshelf across the room.  "It looks .  .  .  warm."

"I hate cold, sterile labs.  There's no reason why I can't have comfort as well as efficiency." She sat down at her desk.  "Talk."

"What's that?" He moved toward the corner.  "Two video cameras?"

"It's necessary for superimposition."

"What is-- Interesting." His attention had been drawn to Mandy's skull.  "This looks like something from a voodoo movie with all those little spears stuck in it.

"I'm charting it to indicate the different thicknesses of skin."

"Do you have to do that before you--"

"Talk."

He came back and sat down beside the desk.  "I'd like to hire you to identify a skull for me."

She shook her head.  "I'm good, but the only sure ways of identification are dental records and DNA."

"Both of those require subjects to match.  I can't go that route until I'm almost certain."

"Why not?"

"It would cause difficulties."

"Is this a child?"

"It's a man."

"And you have no idea who he is?"

"I have an idea."

"But you're not going to tell me?"

He shook his head.

"Are there any photos of him?"

"Yes, but I won't show them to you.  I want you to start fresh and not construct the face you think is there."

"Where were the bones found?"

"Maryland .  .  .  I think."

"You don't know?"

"Not yet." He smiled.  "They haven't actually been located yet."

Her eyes widened...

Edition details

• Publisher: Bantam
• Publication date: 1999
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0553578022
• ISBN 13: 9780553578027
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 480