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“It mentions that Duncan, Quinn, the girl, and a Mark Trevor were at the scene. Who’s Mark Trevor?”
    Fox shook his head. “I accessed a couple of other articles, and some of them have a mention of him. None of the other people present in that tunnel would make a comment about him. He was clearly at the scene but he left before either the police or media could interview him. One article indicated there were hints he had a criminal background.”
    “And yet Quinn’s protecting him for some reason?”
    “I didn’t say that. He’s just not talking about him.”
    “But if Trevor was involved with Fitzgerald’s killing, I can’t see Quinn not serving him up to us. He’s too protective of the girl. Does Trevor have a record?”
    “Maybe.”
    “What do you mean? Either he does or he doesn’t.”
    “I can’t seem to get through to the right database. It bounces me out.”
    “That’s crazy. Keep trying.”
    Fox nodded as he turned the laptop back around to face him. “But you said you didn’t think Quinn would protect Trevor if he suspected him. Why waste the time?”
    “Because there’s always the possibility that Quinn might want to leave us out of it and cut Trevor’s throat himself.”
    “He’s a cop, for God’s sake. He wouldn’t do that.”
    “No? How would you feel if it was your kid, Fox?”
    Lake Cottage
Atlanta, Georgia
    W hat are you doing out here on the porch?” Eve asked as she came up the steps. “It’s the middle of the night.”
    “I couldn’t sleep.” Jane pushed her dog, Toby, to one side to make room for Eve on the top step. “I thought you’d be staying with Sandra at her condo.”
    “I was planning on it, but Ron showed up and I felt a little de trop. They may be divorced, but they both loved Mike. I’m glad he’s there for her.”
    Jane nodded. “I remember all the fishing trips he took Mike on when he was a kid. Is he going to the funeral tomorrow?”
    “Today,” Eve corrected. “Probably. Did Joe go to bed?”
    “Yes. He wasn’t expecting you either. You’d better get some sleep. It’s going to be a difficult day.” She looked out at the lake. “A nightmare of a day.”
    “For you, too. It’s been a nightmare since the moment you met Mike in that bar.” She paused. “Do you ever have those dreams of Cira anymore?”
    Jane looked back at her, startled. “What? Where did that come from?”
    Eve shrugged. “Nightmares. It just popped into my mind.”
    “Now? It’s been four years and you’ve never mentioned anything about them.”
    “That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about them. I just figured it would be better if we forgot about everything connected with that time.”
    “That’s not easy to do.”
    “Obviously,” Eve said dryly. “You’ve been on three archaeological field trips back to Herculaneum since you entered Harvard.”
    Jane gently stroked Toby’s head. “You never argued with me about it.”
    “That would have been placing too much importance on something I wanted to fade from your memory. That didn’t stop me from hating it. I didn’t want you to spend your youth chasing an obsession.”
    “It’s not an obses— Well, maybe it is. I only know I have to find out about Cira. I have to know if she lived or died when that volcano erupted.”
    “Why? It was two thousand years ago, dammit.”
    “You know why. She had my face. Or I have her face. Whatever.”
    “And you dreamed about her for weeks before you actually knew she existed.”
    “I probably read about her someplace.”
    “But you haven’t been able to verify that.”
    “That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” She made a face. “I like that explanation better than some wacky psychic bullshit.”
    “You didn’t answer me. Have you dreamed about her?”
    “No. Satisfied?”
    “Partially.” She was silent a moment. “Have you been in contact with Mark Trevor?”
    “What is this? Twenty questions?”
    “It’s me, loving you, and making sure that