Hunting Eve

  She waited until she rounded the next curve, then left the stream and crossed to the other side. The trail was growing rougher and more overgrown here. She hoped she wasn’t circling back toward Zander. She was so cold and tired, she was disoriented. Go deeper, toward the trail leading to the factory.

  “Stop,” he called. “Can’t you see it’s over?”

  He might be right. He could be going to catch her, she realized in despair.

  She might be able to fend him off once he brought her down. She had a weapon now.

  But that weapon would let Doane know that someone had been here and tried to help her.

  And so would this vest she was wearing.

  Protect Zander.

  Don’t let Doane go back and shoot him while he was helpless in that mine shaft.

  Fight the common enemy.

  At a turn in the trail she instinctively shrugged out of the vest and threw it deep into the bushes.

  Keep running. Don’t let Doane bring her down until they were far away from the place where Zander had gone down.

  Run.

  Faster.

  “Bitch!” Doane shouted. “I told you I’d blow your kneecaps out. I’ll do it, Eve.”

  But he wouldn’t do it unless he had to do it, in spite of his threat. She would be an encumbrance crippled.

  Lead him away from Zander.

  The bushes were scratching her arms and face as she tore into the forest.

  But she’d lost time by making the turn, and Doane was even closer now.

  Darkness.

  Trees.

  The sound of Doane’s harsh breathing behind her.

  Keep running.

  Too late.

  He was on her, taking her down!

  She rolled over, kneeing him in the groin.

  He grunted in pain.

  While her leg was raised, she reached down and felt desperately for the hilt of the knife.

  “Bitch.” Her head rang as Doane slapped her.

  She had the knife out.

  “What the—” His hand brutally grasped her wrist and twisted it. The knife fell from her grasp.

  He grabbed it and pressed the blade against her throat. “Move, and I’ll slice you to pieces.”

  She froze.

  “Now get up … slowly.”

  She got to her knees.

  He stood up and towered over her. His gaze went to the knife in his hand.

  “Where did you get the knife, you little viper?”

  Think.

  He slapped her again. “Where?”

  “In an old, dilapidated hunter’s blind about ten miles from here. There was a backpack and the knife and some spoiled food packs. I thought you and Kevin might have left them when you were up here hunting.”

  He shook his head.

  “I was just glad to find the knife.” She glared at him. “I was going to skewer you, Doane.”

  “I’m sure you would. You’re as bloodthirsty as your father.”

  “I have no father. That crazy story was a figment of your imagination.”

  “We shall see.” He jerked her to her feet. “I can hardly wait to introduce you to him. I’m even more eager to watch his expression when I put a bullet in your head.”

  “He wouldn’t care any more than I would to watch you kill Zander. Your plan is stupid, Doane. You’re stupid.”

  “You’re trying to make me angry. Do you want to die? Are you tired of the chase?” He pushed her ahead of him through the bushes. “Well, the chase is over. Now we get down to business. But first, we go get my Kevin. You wanted me to go down after him? No way. You’ll go down the side of that abyss where you threw him and bring him home. That’s what you call what you do to those skulls that you reconstruct, isn’t it? Well, you’re going to bring Kevin home.” He pushed her forward again. “And then you’re going to give him back to me just the way he was.”

  He wasn’t going back in the direction from which they’d come, she realized with relief. Keep him distracted. “If his skull is still in one piece. It’s raining hard right now, and that will mean my work will take a big hit. You should have gone down that slope right after I threw it over. You might have had a chance of retrieving it. I’ve seen what the wolves do to carrion since I’ve been on the run.”

  “If he’s been damaged, I’ll stake you out, and those wolves can have you for dinner,” he said viciously. “You’ll bring him back to me, Eve.” He pressed the barrel of the rifle into the center of her back. “You’ll crawl down the side of that cliff and you’ll go get him tonight.”

  Vancouver

  JOE DISABLED THE SECURITY alarm on the rear side of the palatial mansion and moved silently across the verandah to the French doors. It appeared Zander was very careful and extremely high-tech. It had taken Joe almost thirty minutes to disable the exterior alarm.

  It took another fifteen to get into the house through the French doors.

  He paused, waiting in the darkness for a motion detector to signal his presence. He had disabled two outside, but there could always be another.

  No alarm.

  He closed the door.

  “Please, don’t move. I have a gun, but I’m not overly familiar with them, and I’m afraid that I’ll discharge it by mistake if I get nervous.”

  Joe froze, his gaze searching the darkness. “I’m not moving … yet.” He could make out a tall, male silhouette framed against the drapes of the window. He hesitated, trying to decide if he should drop to the floor while drawing his own gun.

  No, big mistake. He wasn’t here to blow anyone away. He had wanted to make contact and get information. “I take it you’re not Zander?”

  “Good God, no.”

  “I didn’t think so. Stang?”

  “Venable told you about me, Detective Quinn? I didn’t think I’d made that much of an impression on him.” Stang reached over and turned on a lamp. “But, then, Venable appears to be a very clever man. Fearless, too. There aren’t many men who aren’t afraid of Zander.” He smiled. “I think Zander appreciates that quality in him.”

  Joe’s eyes narrowed on him. He couldn’t detect any hint of menace in Stang’s demeanor, but that could be deceptive. Stang was somewhere in his late thirties, a little over six feet, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He was dressed in a brown turtleneck and khakis and appeared to be fit without being particularly muscular.

  He was also holding the Beretta revolver in his hand with an awkwardness that made his first statement about being unaccustomed to weapons ring true.

  “You know who I am? You recognized me?”

  “Yes, you’re Joe Quinn.” He made a face. “And I’ve been staring at your face in Zander’s dossiers for some time. Of course, I recognized you.”

  “Dossier? Then you know I’m a police detective and not likely to attack you. It might be wise if you put down that gun.”

  He sighed. “It’s not doing me much good anyway, is it?” He put the gun down on the table. “You’re an ex-SEAL. You could probably take it away from me in a heartbeat. When I saw you on the verandah, I just thought that it might intimidate you for a time until I could see whether you were a danger to me.”

  “And not to Zander?”

  “Zander? That’s almost funny.” He tilted his head. “Yes, Zander would laugh at the thought of my protecting him.”

  “You saw me on the verandah? I take it I set off an alarm?”

  “Yes, you disabled most of them, but Zander always makes sure there’s one more that you don’t suspect. That’s when I came into the library and looked to see who had come calling.” He frowned. “Should I offer you a drink or something?”

  “I just broke into your employer’s home.”

  “But you didn’t mean to burgle or hurt anyone. You probably only meant to talk to Zander and try to find Eve Duncan. Isn’t that right?” He went to the bar and poured himself a scotch. “Well, if you don’t want one, I believe I do. This isn’t my forte.”

  “You appear to
be very well informed.”

  He shrugged. “For some reason Zander wanted me to know about Eve Duncan. I found it very unusual.” He lifted his glass to his lips. “I didn’t want to know. I didn’t like the idea she might be killed or hurt.”

  “But Zander wasn’t upset at the prospect?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never been able to read Zander.” He took a drink. “Well, perhaps a little, but it’s mostly guesswork. I never wanted to delve past the surface. I always felt it could be … lethal.”

  “Then why did you work for him?”

  “I had my reasons. The pay is good, and Zander can be fascinating.”

  “And where is Zander now?” Joe asked grimly. “I have a few questions I need to ask him.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Shall I repeat the question?” Joe asked softly. “I intend to talk to Zander, Stang.”

  “You see, that’s why I got the gun out of the desk. Yes, you’re police, but I think the way you feel about Eve Duncan probably overrides your respect for the law. From what I’ve learned about you, I should have kept the gun handy.” He grimaced. “You can shoot me or beat me up or waterboard me or whatever. I still wouldn’t be able to tell you where he is. He never talks to me about assignments.”

  “And was this an ‘assignment’?”

  He was silent. “Not exactly. But he still—” He met Joe’s eyes. “He went after James Doane, Detective Quinn. He was tired of waiting for him to try to pounce and decided to go hunting.”

  “And where did he go hunting?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Then you’d better get one,” Joe said softly. “Fast.”

  “I told you, he doesn’t talk to me. Never about specifics. I like it that way.”

  “I find your relationship with Zander both bizarre and annoying. I can accept the bizarre. The annoying is going to be dangerous for you.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve lived on the edge for long enough to accept it as a fact of life. I’ve told you the truth. You should be happy that Zander is going after Doane. Eve Duncan has a better chance that way. Zander is exceptional at what he does.”

  “Why will Eve have a better chance? Is he going to try to get her away from Doane?”

  Stang shook his head. “That’s not what he said. He was only concerned about Doane.”

  Joe muttered a curse. “And what’s to prevent Doane from killing his hostage if he thinks he’s going to die anyway? That’s what happens in situations like this.”

  “He said that Doane was his focus.”

  “And screw the fact that Eve is his daughter?”

  Stang’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You didn’t know? Venable said that Zander knew.”

  “No, I didn’t know.” His brow wrinkled in a thoughtful frown. “But that might explain a few things. He’s been behaving rather…” He looked at Joe. “But you can’t count on that having any impact on him. Zander’s not like other people.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Joe asked between set teeth. “I don’t even know if Venable is right, and he is her father. I don’t know, and I don’t care. If I could use it to persuade him to tell me where I can find her, then I’d do it. Otherwise, he can fade back into the shadows where he’s been all her life.”

  “He may not know where to find her,” Stang said quietly. “I told you, he went hunting.”

  “But you think that he had an idea where to find Doane. She’s with Doane, dammit.”

  Stang was silent.

  “Answer me, Stang.”

  “I’m thinking about it. Zander would look upon it as a betrayal and he doesn’t tolerate traitors. He always expects to be betrayed, but he’d still tend to set an example. I’ve lasted this long because he has a minimum degree of trust in me.”

  “Which must make your life hell.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Then why do you stay? Venable says you could get a job anywhere, that you’re some kind of financial genius.”

  “I have reasons.”

  “Your brother, Sean?”

  Stang went rigid. “You know about Sean?”

  “Venable has as big a report on you as he does Zander. On the plane here, I accessed every bit of information I could on both of you.”

  “Very clever. Just what I’d do. I’d bet there wasn’t much on Zander.”

  “No, even Venable couldn’t pull more than a few lines on him.” He paused. “But on you…”

  “I’m very ordinary.” He smiled. “Just your typical genius next door. All brain but with no larger-than-life characteristics. I’ll leave that to you … and Zander.”

  “You can’t compare me to Zander.”

  “Yes, I can. I see a few similarities. You will, too, once you make his acquaintance. But only a few, he’s something of an enigma.”

  “And so are you. For instance, you were born Colin Daklow, in South Africa of American parents, missionaries who ran a medical facility there. You had an older brother, Sean, with whom you were very close. He was a doctor at the hospital. You spent most of your time in New York. First at Harvard and then at Merrill Lynch. You were the golden boy there, but you still made frequent trips back to South Africa. You and your family were very close.” He paused. “But you weren’t there when the village and hospital were attacked by rebel insurgents who killed your parents and fatally injured your brother Sean. He died two hours after you saw him the morning you flew back there from New York.”

  “I asked the doctors why they couldn’t save him,” Stang said. “Until I saw what they had done to him. Then I only hoped he’d die quickly.” His lips tightened. “Butchers.”

  “Then you buried your dead and went back to the U.S.,” Joe said. “But not to Merrill Lynch. You disappeared for a while. To grieve, Stang?”

  “Yes, and to think.”

  “About the reports that the South African government was sending you about the suspicions that Lee Zander had somehow been involved in that massacre?”

  Stang was silent.

  “The nurses at the hospital filled out a report stating that Sean was coherent and talking before his death. What did your brother say to you before he died?”

  For a moment Joe wasn’t sure Stang was going to answer. Then Stang said slowly, “He made me promise that I would never leave Zander until the day he died.”

  “Yet there was no proof,” Joe said. “But it must have been agonizing to know that Zander would probably never face punishment for those killings. It was about that time that you changed your name and purchased an entire new identity on the black market.”

  “Yes.” He took a sip of his scotch. “It’s remarkably easy if the money is available, and money has never been a problem for me.”

  “Then you hunted down Zander and applied for a job. I presume to look for your opportunity.”

  “It’s always a mistake to presume anything, Detective. Since you are a law-enforcement officer, I’m sure you’re aware of that.” He put his glass down on the table. “And I’d like you to dispense with this raking over very painful coals. I still find the memories excruciating.”

  “I can see that you would,” he added harshly. “Evidently your opportunity never came. Well, make it happen now. Walk away from Zander and help me. Help Eve.”

  He didn’t speak for a moment. “I think I’d like Eve Duncan. I’d look at her photo and see … I don’t know.” He shrugged. “She reminded me of my mother and father, and Sean and all those other foolish souls who let themselves be butchered. Some people take, some people give. The ones who give shouldn’t suffer, but they do.”

  “Then help me,” Joe said urgently. “Zander is bound to find out about who you are eventually. Walk away from him now.”

  Stang smiled faintly. “I think Zander knew who I was before he even hired me. I know he knew a few months later. He doesn’t take chances without knowing all the details about the people surrounding him.”

  “Then why the
hell would he keep you near him?”

  Stang shook his head. “Enigma. I believe he enjoys the risk. He works hard at protecting himself, but lately I’ve wondered if he doesn’t really care whether he dies or not.”

  “Like Eve,” Joe muttered. He hadn’t meant that to come out. Eve never said anything, but he knew that she would not be sorry to go to her Bonnie. But not yet, dammit. He wouldn’t let her go yet.

  “Eve? Maybe that’s what I saw when I was looking at her photo,” Stang said quietly. “A reflection of Zander.”

  “That’s not what you saw,” Joe said. “Eve will fight. Eve will have a good life ahead of her if we give her a chance.” He took a step nearer. “If you give her a chance. Where did Zander go hunting?”

  “I don’t know.” He held up his hand as Joe opened his lips to speak. “But I may be able to point you in the right direction.”

  “Talk.”

  “Zander expected Doane to contact him, so he had his phone bugged and an expert on hand to monitor any transmissions and try to trace it.”

  “Did he call him?”

  “Yes, and the night he left, I know that he made a call to verify that the trace had been effective.” He paused. “I don’t know if he got an actual trace. I wouldn’t think so since he was in hunt mode. Maybe a tower, though.”

  “What tower?”

  He shook his head. “Guesswork. You need to talk to the source.”

  “Who is the source?”

  “Zander uses a man named Donald Weiner. He’s very, very good. And he’s completely discreet when it comes to Zander.” He grimaced. “You won’t find many of his associates alive who aren’t discreet.”

  Joe typed the name into his phone. “Telephone number?”

  “You’re not listening. He wouldn’t answer any calls from numbers with which he’s not familiar.”

  “I’ll call on Zander’s house phone.”

  Stang shook his head. “Zander calls from his cell.”

  “Roadblocks.”

  “That’s the way Zander likes it.”

  “How do I get to—”

  “If he knows you’re looking for him, he’ll take off and go underground. We’ll have to go to see him personally.”

  “We?”

  Stang shrugged. “He knows I work for Zander. It might help.”