“Why not? She’s more honorable than most people. No axe to grind.” She held up her hand. “You asked, I answered. Now we’ll scoot away from things that might disturb you. You’ll be more comfortable trying to put things together in a way that’s more acceptable to you.” She gestured sweepingly around her. “Go for it.”
“I don’t have to have your permission, Margaret,” Kendra said dryly as she turned and glanced around the toolshed. Most of the structure was still cloaked in shadows, save for the slivers of illumination reflected by dozens of stainless-steel circular saw blades mounted on the wall. The area was centered by woodworking tools, including a table-saw router, lathe, and a few devices Kendra wasn’t familiar with. She studied the contours of the machinery, but none seemed to fit the impressions she had seen in Doane’s car.
“Doane’s been working in here in the last week or so.” Kendra pointed to the floor and waved her hands over large footprints in the sawdust.
“But I think other people must have searched this place in the past few days,” Margaret said.
“They have. You can see their footprints, too. But these match the style and size of a pair of boots I just saw in Doane’s closet. And this sawdust is freshly cut cherrywood. It has a very strong scent. Can you smell it?”
Margaret nodded. “The whole shed smells like it.”
“That means it can’t have been cut much more than a week ago.”
Kendra moved to a rack of hardware over a smaller lathe and fingered the intricate metal plates.
Margaret picked one up. “What are these?”
“They’re used as patterns for the lathe, for cutting ornamental wood pieces. The one you’re holding would make a clover.”
Margaret’s eyes squinted at it. “It doesn’t look anything like a clover.”
“No, but the pins act as a guide for precisely moving the wood across the cutter to create the pattern.” Kendra waved her hand across the other plates. “Each of these creates a different design. Before I could see, I used to love running my hands across intricate carvings, feeling the wonderful details and textures. I still think it’s the best way to appreciate quality woodwork. You can admire some of its beauty by looking at it, but only by feeling it do you really appreciate how each cut contributes to the effect.” She looked down at the lathe, which had a guide plate attached. “This has to be his most recent work.”
Margaret leaned over it. “What’s this pattern?”
Kendra studied it for a moment, then crouched to get a closer look. “Hard to say. Some geometric pattern. It looks like it could be a—” She stopped, frozen.
It was a pattern she had seen before.
Not the cabinet in Doane’s bedroom. Something else …
Of course.
Kendra whirled and quickly moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Margaret asked, startled.
Kendra didn’t answer.
“May I go with you?”
She didn’t want company. The girl would probably get in her way.
But she didn’t want to leave her out here alone either. That damn protectiveness again.
“Okay, come.” She threw open the door. “Move. Now.”
CHAPTER
7
Gwinnett Hospital
“DID YOU PULL UP THOSE National Geo articles on southern Utah?” Jane asked Caleb, as he came back into the hospital room. “I haven’t found anything in Wyoming.”
“Not yet. I’ve been busy persuading your doctor that you’d have a relapse if he didn’t okay your making this room into your home office.” He sat down and opened his computer again. “I’ll get to it right away. Have you tried Colorado? That’s where Doane lived in that safe house.”
“I’ve scanned most of the areas around Goldfork, and I didn’t find anything familiar.” She looked down at the detailed sketches she’d made of what she remembered about her dream of Eve. “Though nothing is familiar, dammit. It could be any path, any scene in the mountains. I thought I’d try another state and hope I got lucky.” She frowned. “That tree beside the path looks a little unusual. What kind is it?”
“I don’t know.” He took a picture with his cell phone. “I’ll check on it.”
“Hurry, will you? It might be important. It could—” She broke off. “And it might be nothing. I’m sorry, Caleb. You’ve been very good … and tolerant. I know you don’t have to do this for me.”
“You must be getting discouraged.” Caleb smiled. “Or you wouldn’t be this polite. I do have to do it, you know. Not only do I have an interest in helping Eve, but it’s making you think of me as an ally instead of an enemy.”
“I never thought of you as an enemy. I just never—”
“You don’t have to put it into words. I know. I don’t blame you.” He looked down at the computer screen. “You see more than I’d like you to see. It’s making it very hard for me. I should walk away from you. I could hurt you, and I’m beginning to think that would hurt me, too.” He glanced up and smiled. “But I’m much too wicked to be that unselfish. I just thought I’d give you warning.”
She tore her eyes away from him. “Utah. Give me the photos from Utah.”
“Ten minutes.” He looked back at the computer screen. “I’ve located the site and—”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Jane?” Mark Trevor asked.
Her gaze flew to the doorway. Trevor was frowning and definitely not pleased. “Hello, Trevor. Why should I? I had enough people interfering in what I needed to do.”
“So I had to go to the lake cottage and find out that you were back in the hospital from Venable?” He moved toward the bed. “You should have stayed at that hospital in San Juan until you were better.” He glanced at Caleb. “Hello, Caleb. And you should have gotten her to a hospital sooner so that she didn’t end up like this.”
“I won’t even argue with you.” Caleb got to his feet. “We both know that I was lucky to just be there for her when she needed me.” He paused. “Which you weren’t.”
“I’m here now. I understand you stayed here with her last night. Not necessary for you to repeat that tonight. I’ll take care of her.”
Sparks. Thunder. Antagonism.
Jane wasn’t having any of it. “No one has to stay with me at night. And I didn’t ask you to come, Trevor. It was your choice, and I’m not having you get in my way.” She glanced at Caleb. “And you promised me those Utah photos.”
Trevor opened his lips to speak, then shrugged. “Whatever. Getting in your way is the last thing I want to do. Providing I knew what the hell you’re talking about.” He looked at the open sketchbook on the bed. “What is this?”
“Dream stuff,” Caleb said. “Jane had a dream about Eve last night, and she said it was eerily familiar to the dreams she had about Cira.” His lips twisted. “It seems that you were with her during that period. I don’t have to tell you anything more. You probably know more than I do.”
“Yes, I do. Sting a little?”
“Yes. But I’m working through it.”
He glanced back at the sketch. “It’s very detailed. You’re trying to find recognizable landmarks and sites as you did when you were exploring what happened to Cira. Any luck?”
“Not yet. It’s somewhere in the Rockies. That’s all I know.” She made a face. “That’s what I think I know. I don’t really know anything. Half the time I was never certain that those dreams of Cira had any foundation in reality. And, if they did, who the hell can be sure those Cira dreams weren’t one of a kind. I thought they were until I had that dream of Eve. Maybe it’s wishful thinking.”
“Hey, I can’t tell you that it wasn’t.” Trevor took her hand. “But I can tell you that something special happened to you during the time you were investigating Cira. No one is more pragmatic than I am, and you blew me away.” He was looking into her eyes. “Not that you hadn’t done that before. But Cira was real, for you and for me.” He smiled. “And there’s nothing wrong with wi
shful thinking. I’ve been doing a lot of it lately.”
She couldn’t take her gaze from his face. It wasn’t that he was stunningly handsome—she had grown used to that through the years. But there was something … different. He had been her lover during the most vulnerable time of her life, and she had thought that she knew his every expression. But there was an intentness that held no passion but something else, something deeper …
“Oh, yes,” he said softly. “There’s nothing more real to me than that time we had together. Except what I’m feeling right now.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “Do you feel it, Jane?”
She didn’t know what she was feeling. She was suddenly short of breath and felt as if she were on the edge of a cliff looking down, no not down, gazing out at the horizon. She thought she had felt every emotion with Trevor, but she had never felt like this. It was strange … and frightening. She pulled her hand away. “It didn’t work out for us. I didn’t tell you to come back into my life, Trevor.” She looked down at her computer. “And the only thing that’s real for me right now is trying to make some sense of something that probably has no basis in reason at all.”
He didn’t speak for a moment. “Okay, I’ll let it go.” He glanced again at the sketch. “Tell me what you want me to do. I could go to the nearest library and check out anything they might have there that resembles this terrain. Or I could hit the computer and—”
“We don’t need you, Trevor,” Caleb said.
Jane inhaled sharply as she glanced at him. Darkness. Fire. Power.
“You may not need me, but Jane does,” Trevor said silkily. “Ask her.”
“Back off, Caleb,” Jane said. “I need all the help I can get, and Trevor’s helped me before.”
“With Cira … and her Anthony,” Caleb said. “That’s right, you have a previous experience on two levels. It’s hard to compete. But not impossible.” He met Trevor’s eyes. “By all means, stay and let’s see how everything develops. It could be interesting.”
“I’m glad I have your permission,” Trevor said sarcastically. “Library or computer, Jane?”
Lightness. Darkness. Staring at the two men Jane remembered how she had thought that Caleb and Trevor were two opposite entities. That conflict was even more evident as she gazed at them now. They were both controlled and mature, but that didn’t mean they weren’t emitting disturbing vibes. She had no desire to have them in the same room if she could help it.
“Library. You might stumble over an old book that’s not made it into an online database. I ran across a couple when I was tracing Cira.”
“That’s right, you did.” He took a few pictures of the sketches and headed for the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I find something to report. You’re so hung up on reality, and I can’t promise that I’ll discover any evidence that Eve dream had any reality at all.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “But I’m real, Jane. What I feel is real. You can count on it.”
The door swung shut behind him.
“I feel vaguely like a Peeping Tom,” Caleb drawled. “Except I’m sure Peeping Toms don’t have this degree of irritation, only prurient lust.” He tilted his head. “Though there is that present, too.”
“You could have left the room.”
“No, I couldn’t. I wanted to have a deterring effect on Trevor. I couldn’t have done that long-distance.” He shrugged. “But it didn’t have much effect anyway. When he wants something, he doesn’t care who’s in the way. He doesn’t give a damn. I wouldn’t either. In that we’re alike.”
“It must be the only way,” she said dryly. “I was thinking that you’re complete opposites.”
“And you’re right. He’s tough, but there’s a streak of something in him that I’ll never have.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Chivalry? Good Lord, what an outmoded idea. Softness? Whatever you’d expect from a Golden Boy.”
“He’s not soft, Caleb.”
“Then you choose the word. I’m tired of talking about him. I’m glad you sent him away.”
“He sent himself away.”
“Because he’s giving you space. I wouldn’t do that, not if a man like me was this close to you.” He smiled. “But then, I’m not a Golden Boy.” He tilted his head. “However, I may give up my place with you tonight just to prove I can be civilized … sometimes.” His smile faded. “But I found out one thing I didn’t know before. He’s more dangerous than I imagined. You felt it, too, didn’t you?”
Standing on the edge of a cliff and not knowing whether she was going to fall or be swept toward the horizon.
“You said you didn’t want to talk about him. Have you finished Utah?”
“And you certainly don’t, which is dangerous in itself.” Caleb looked down at the computer screen. “I’ll have the results on Utah in a moment. I’m checking out the forests in the ski areas…”
Rio Grande Forest
Colorado
DOANE HAD not killed Eve.
Zander gazed down at the tracks for a moment, reading the story they told. The smaller, narrow prints, walking, then running, as the prey became aware the hunter was close. The larger boot prints, with a wider stride, not hurrying, confident that he’d overtake and destroy. He might not even be trying too hard, Zander thought. He could be toying with Eve before he caught and crushed her.
Or Eve might be more than he’d thought she’d be, lost in this wilderness. She could be wearing him down a bit.
Whichever it was, Eve was free and someone with whom Zander might have to contend. She could get in his way.
Or he could use her to get what he wanted.
Why not? A form of poetic justice?
Doane had been hoping to use Eve to bait his trap. That was why he’d called Zander and had her talk to him. Since he was obsessive about his own son, he could not imagine a father having no feeling for his offspring. Now Doane had lost his bait and was trying desperately to retrieve it.
Zander looked down once again at Eve’s narrow footprints. If she had ever been trying to hide those prints, she had stopped. Maybe she had realized that Doane was too good a tracker and didn’t want to waste her time. Or maybe she was fighting exhaustion and had given up that particular fight. Zander leaned toward the former, from what he knew of Eve, she would not give up even if she was completely exhausted. Though she should be exhausted. He had run across the history of her time on the run in the last few hours. It was clear she had no experience in the forest and was relying only on her senses and wits. Both of which must be phenomenal for her to avoid Doane this long. He just hoped she didn’t make a slip on this particular stretch of the hunt.
It would spoil all of Zander’s new plans if he had to do without bait for the trap.
Hold out, Eve. Keep him at bay. He lost you three times in the last five miles. He’s a very good hunter. But not nearly as good as I am. I won’t lose you.
He got to his feet and, ignoring Doane’s prints, started following Eve’s tracks.
Rio Grande Forest
Colorado
COLD.
Keep moving.
Darkness had fallen two hours ago, and temperatures were already plunging, but it would get even colder later, Eve knew.
She hadn’t caught sight of Doane in the past two hours, and he might have gone back to that warm, cozy house for a while. That was his usual routine. Hunt, wear her down, then go back and rest.
The thought of that warmth and comfort made her even more angry.
Don’t lose her cool.
Cool? Every thought seemed to be temperature-oriented, she thought dryly.
Keep moving.
Keep the blood stirring.
She’d make her way to the path that she knew Doane had to take to get to the forest from the factory. It was the best place to ambush him, and her decision was made. She had to get rid of Doane while she was still strong enough to do it. She had no weapons, but she had found another branch and that w
ould do. She could spring out of the underbrush, stun him, then rely on the karate moves Joe had taught her to do the rest.
Could she bring herself to kill?
Don’t think about it. Do what instinct told her to do.
Keep moving. She had to get close enough to that path to have to travel only a short distance before she made herself a shelter for the night.
Her feet felt heavy, leaden. She’d have to rub them when she stopped to make sure the circulation kept the frostbite away.
Run.
Twigs and branches were crackling beneath her feet, and she heard the call of an owl in the distance. She had become accustomed to the wild sounds, and they no longer intimidated her. It was the unknown that caused her heart to pound and the blood to chill.
Chill. Another temperature word. She’d better get to a place where she could stop and—
Someone was watching her.
Her pace faltered.
And so did her heartbeat.
Imagination?
Maybe.
Or maybe she’d been wrong about Doane’s temporarily abandoning the hunt. Maybe he’d only tried to deceive her as he had before. He delighted in tormenting her.
Or perhaps it wasn’t someone, but something. An animal in the brush or—
Whatever it was, human or animal, it was there. She could feel it.
She looked over her shoulder. She could see nothing in the darkness. Don’t look for shape. Look for movement.
Nothing behind her.
Because it was ahead of her.
Darkness hurtling toward her!
Tackling, taking her down, taking her breath.
Taking her life …
Gwinnett Hospital
JANE SCREAMED.
“What the hell?” Trevor ran into the room from the corridor. His hand brushed the switch, flooding the room with light. “Are you okay? What—” He sat down on the bed and gathered her in his arms. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes.” She drew a shaky breath. Her heart was beating so hard she was in pain. “I’m hurting for her. He hurt her.”