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of you. And turn off that damn TV. Do you think it hurts me to see all those people I love at the cottage mourning me? Well, you’re right. It does. It also makes me less able to work on Kevin. You said you wanted him ready by tomorrow.”
    “I do.” He tilted his head. “But this is too enjoyable to miss entirely. I’ve been looking forward to this memorial service since it was announced on CNN. I can’t get enough of it. I’ve recorded it, and I’ll try to catch it on another cable station later.”
    “It will probably not be shown. I’m surprised they’re giving it any airtime at all. I’m not that important, Doane.”
    “You’re too modest. You notice that your mother didn’t show up for the service? But, then, she doesn’t care anything for you, does she?”
    “She cares. In her own way.”
    “And I don’t see Zander in the crowd.”
    “Why should he be there? You say he’s my father, but I don’t accept it. He’s only a hired assassin who doesn’t care anything about me.”
    “He cares. A father always cares about his child. That’s what this is all about. It would be dangerous for him to show up at your memorial service, but he’ll be mourning you in his own place and way.” He smiled. “And after you finish Kevin tomorrow, we’ll go join him.”
    “It’s all a stupid—”
    “Shh.” He help up his hand. “Now pay attention. They’re filming your Joe Quinn. He looks totally devastated, doesn’t he?”
    Joe. Beloved. Friend. Protector. She studied his face. His expression was tense, the jaw clenched, his brown eyes glittering.
    Devastated?
    She stiffened. Careful. She tried to keep her own face expressionless as she gazed at Joe. She knew that face. She could read every expression, every hint of feeling.
    Joe was not devastated at losing her. He was impatient. He wanted this media circus over.
    Why? If he had set it up to honor her?
    Then it sank home. She had been so numb in these last days, fighting to recover physically and mentally, that she had just accepted what Doane had said to her about the memorial service. Joe would never have thrown a huge media party like this because he would have known she’d hate it.
    Which meant he had set it up for someone else. Doane?
    Doane had been so certain that everyone had been fooled by his grand plan. He had been smug and completely obnoxious about it.
    “And there’s Jane MacGuire,” Doane said. “She’s very beautiful, and it’s no wonder the cameras focus more on her than anyone else. Poor Jane, she has to be heartbroken that there was nothing she could do to save you.”
    “Heartbroken,” Eve repeated, intently studying Jane’s face.
    Jane had been more close friend than daughter to her since she’d adopted her when she was ten years old, but the love was strong between them. She knew exactly how Jane would react.
    Jane was pale and unsmiling.
    No agony. Only tension. And the same impatience Eve had seen in Joe’s face. They wanted this show over.
    Eve felt the joy and hope surge through her.
    Oh, Doane, you’ve underestimated them again.
    They’ve found out about your little escape plan.
    They know I’m alive.
    *   *   *
    “YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE,” Margaret whispered to Jane when she reached her. “Your nerves are shredded from all this crap. Why don’t you go up in the house with Kendra?”
    That sounded wonderful to Jane. Peace. Quiet. No pretense. She reluctantly shook her head. “Kendra isn’t family. I am. I’m expected to be at this circus. I can do this.”
    “You can do it,” Seth Caleb said roughly as he suddenly appeared behind her. “But why should you? You’ve only been out of the hospital a week, and you’ve been under stress all that time. You’ve done your job. The cameras love you, and the TV crews focused on you during most of the service. Now let someone else have a photo op.” He took her elbow and firmly swept her away from Margaret and started propelling her toward the steps