Shadow Play by Iris Johansen Page A

moving, molding.
    Nose?
    It had to be generic.
    Instinct. Just use instinct.
    Mouth.
    Generic again. She’d measured the width but had to guess at the shape. A child’s mouth, sensitive, because Jenny was so sensitive.
    Eyes. So very difficult. No measurements, very few scientific indicators. Okay, study the shape and the angle of the orbits. That angle and the bony ridge above it would help her decide the shape. Keep them in mind but don’t do the eyes yet. It always made her excited to see the eyes staring at her, and she might hurry the rest of the process.
    Do the cheeks.
    Fill in.
    Smooth.
    The other cheek.
    Smooth.
    She was going too fast. Slow down. Measurements were still important. Check them.
    Nose width. Okay.
    Lip height. Okay. No, bring the top lip down. It’s usually thinner than the bottom.
    There’s a major muscle around the mouth, build it up.
    But Jenny was a child and would have a child’s fullness.
    No, thin face.
    Where had that come from? It didn’t matter if it was instinct or Jenny.
    Just go with it.
    Mold.
    Smooth.
    Fill in.
    Her hands were flying over that small face now.
    Deepen.
    Mold.
    Smooth.
    Fill in.
    The chin.
    More pointed.
    Smooth.
    Brows.
    Winged.
    Odd. Why?
    Just do it.
    Slow down. Her hands were too feverish.
    No, they aren’t.
    Go ahead.
    Smooth.
    Mold.
    Fill in.
    But there was only a little more to fill in.
    Smooth it.
    Mold?
    No, just the smoothing.
    Fast.
    Sure.
    Let it come.
    Let her come.
    Blinding speed. Her heart was beating hard.
    The reconstruction was only a blur.
    Finished.
    She leaned back, and her hands dropped away from the skull.
    Only it wasn’t a skull any longer.
    It was Jenny.
    No, not yet.
    She reached into the drawer and drew out her eye case.
    Eyes.
    Jenny had to have eyes.
    Eve looked down at the glass eyeballs. She usually chose brown, they were the most common.
    She started to reach for them.
    â€œ Green. ”
    Eve stopped. “Now you appear. I could have used a little more help, Jenny.”
    â€œ I tried to help. It was hard to remember … It’s not important here where I am now. ”
    â€œWell, it’s still important to me.” She took the green eyes from the case. “And it’s important to Sheriff Nalchek.” She paused. “And it may be important to the person who put you in that grave.”
    â€œ But you did pretty well without me, didn’t you? You must be very smart, Eve. ”
    â€œFlattery? You must be fairly smart yourself, Jenny.” She was inserting the right eye carefully in the right cavity. “Green eyes are very noticeable. That might help. Who did you take after? Your mother or your father?”
    â€œ I don’t know. They’re not … I don’t remember. ”
    Distress. Veer away from the pain she sensed. “It doesn’t matter.” She inserted the other eyeball and smoothed the clay around the orbital cavity. “What’s important is that the eyes might trigger a memory that—”
    She broke off and inhaled sharply.
    Finished. The reconstruction was completely finished.
    And the full impact of the work that she’d just done hit home to her.
    â€œJenny?”
    She reached out and gently touched the cheek of the sculpture. She almost expected it to be warm with life. The little girl’s expression seemed to radiate vitality and enthusiasm. Even those wide-set green eyes seemed to glow with a kind of wonder in that small, triangular face. Pointed chin, high cheekbones, and winged brows gave the child an elfin quality. But it was the vitality, the wonder, that held Eve spellbound.
    And some monster had killed this?
    She cleared her throat to ease its tightness. “Perhaps you helped me more than either one of us thought, Jenny. I believe you must have been a very special little girl. I’d bet you enjoyed every minute of your life. I’m sorry you don’t remember more of it.”
    â€œ I