But no matter what angle he tried, he came up completely empty. Not only did none of it make sense, he couldn’t imagine how it ever could.

Hansen finally lifted his head and locked his eyes on the woman who had come to mean so much to him in such a short time. “Erin,” he began. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this. Drake has clearly had a nervous breakdown. Or the alien equivalent. I wish I knew how those electronics came to be … attached … to you. But you were obviously framed. And we need to figure out how and why.”

Erin let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid I wasn’t framed, Kyle,” she said softly. “It turns out I am working with Steve Fuller.”

41

HANSEN’S STOMACH LURCHED and he thought he might vomit. He stared at Erin Palmer in horror. He had been so sure about her. But how could this even be? She must have been working with Fuller before she had even met him. But then what was the point of the last few days?

“Everything Drake said is accurate,” continued Erin. “I knew about the bug. Fuller did plant it. And I was trying to stall, hoping he would storm the place when he heard Drake was here. I had no idea Drake had blocked the bug’s transmission. And I was planning to plant a homing device on him. I was just feigning innocence in the hope of throwing him off and buying some time.”

“But why?” pleaded Hansen. “How?” He shook his head miserably. “I was actually thinking you were someone I could fall in love with someday,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.

His eyes showed a hurt beyond hurt, a betrayal beyond betrayal. How could he have been fooled so completely?

“I had no other choice,” said Erin. “It was necessary. And you have to admit, you withheld information from me as well.”

“Is that what this is about? You thought I betrayed you? That wasn’t it at all, I just—”

“Don’t misunderstand,” she interrupted. “I know why you did it. The details you left out weren’t absolutely necessary to give me the gist of what you thought was going on. That had nothing to do with my decision to join Fuller.” She paused. “I understand why you’re so hurt,” she said. “And I don’t blame you.”

She gazed into his eyes with a warmth and affection that sickened him. Was she still playing a game? Trying to draw him in, using his obvious attraction to her?

“You’re the last person I’d ever want to hurt,” said Erin, and she could not have looked more sincere. She paused, and then after a heavy sigh, added softly, “Because I can see myself falling in love with you someday as well.”

Hansen wasn’t sure how to react to this. Thirty minutes earlier he would have been on cloud nine. But now?

“Then why are you doing this?” he said.

“Because there’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Okay. Like what?”

“Remember when you were shot with a dart at the Saguaro Inn?”

Hansen nodded. It wasn’t something he was likely to ever forget.

“Well, the dose of tranquilizer in those darts only lasts for about an hour. Not ten or twelve.”

Hansen struggled to comprehend. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that a lot happened after you lost consciousness. A lot more than I told you.”

“Was anything you told me after I woke up true?”

Erin winced. “Ah … not so much,” she admitted. “I did try to escape from the motel. But while I think I’m pretty good, no one is that good.”

Hansen stared at her with wide eyes, speechless.

“The good news,” she continued, “is that it looks like we have some time.” She gestured toward her cuffed hand. “And neither of us is going anywhere. So are you ready to learn what really happened between the time you were shot, and the time you woke up in a dry riverbed?”

Hansen was still reeling, but he managed to nod.

“Great,” she said. “I think you’ll find this extremely interesting.” She raised her eyebrows. “And then some.”

42

ERIN COULDN’T BELIEVE Kyle Hansen had just driven his newly acquired car into the middle of the fray outside of her motel room and was trying to use it as a weapon. The meek physicist who claimed he’d lose in hand-to-hand to a ninety-year-old woman in a wheelchair?

What courage. And what insanity, both.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Hansen taking out one of their attackers with the car, and then screeching to a halt and rolling from the car before it stopped. The car blocking her view of where Hansen had landed, but being able to make out a man on the other side of the car, crouching down and pointing a gun toward the ground.

He must be aiming at Kyle!

Erin shot frantically at the crouching man behind the car, but had little chance of hitting him. Her angle was bad, the car was blocking her out, and she had to make sure she aimed high or risk hitting Hansen herself. It was hopeless.

The man standing over Hansen pulled the trigger.

“Noooo!”

The long, hysterical scream filled the air, and Erin realized only after the fact that the scream had come from her own mouth.

She kept squeezing the trigger long after the magazine was empty. A part of her realized she was now out of ammunition, but she didn’t care. What did it matter? She hadn’t let herself truly care about anyone since she was eleven. But lately she had relented. She had begun to let people in. Lisa Renner. And now Kyle Hansen.

And now he was gone.

She was a curse. Whoever she cared for was taken away.

Reinforcements were suddenly coming from out of thin air and all of them were converging on her motel room. In seconds they realized she was out of ammo and broke down the door.

She decided not to even attempt to fight. What was the point?

Finally, one man, the man she had shot, entered the room, blood streaming from his arm, and Erin absently realized he was the same man they had Tasered at the student union. He looked relieved when she just stood there, showing no intent to demonstrate her impressive martial-arts skills.

“Hello again, Erin,” he said. “My name is Ryan. Ryan Brock.” He pointed a gun at her awkwardly with his left arm. “I need you to sit on the bed.”

Of all the things she imagined he might have said, this was not among them.

“Why?” she said simply, moving to the bed and sitting on its edge.

“I don’t want to take the chance that a fall might injure you,” he said. And, inexplicably, he sounded almost … friendly.

This was the last thought she had when, almost apologetically, Ryan Brock pulled the trigger and everything went black.

*   *   *

ERIN OPENED HER eyes with a start. How was she still alive?

Two men sat across from her at a magnificent mahogany conference table. Two men she had never seen before. Her hands were loosely cuffed together by long strips of plastic, giving her considerable freedom of movement.

“Sorry about the restraints, Miss Palmer,” said the taller of the two men. “But from what I understand, you could kick both of our asses without working up a sweat. And this is something we’d rather avoid.”

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“My name is Steve Fuller. I’m the man who called you on the phone and invited you to meet with me in Palm Springs.”

“I know who you are!” she hissed. Her eyes blazed with a fury, with a visceral hatred, that was stunning in its power. “I know all about you.”

Fuller leaned back in his chair, as if desperate to put additional distance between himself and her withering glare. He looked truly taken aback. “What could you know about me that would bring out this kind of hatred?”

“I know you’re an international arms dealer. I know you attacked Drake’s compound in Yuma, killing everyone there.” She lowered her eyes, which had suddenly become moist. “And I know you killed Kyle Hansen,” she whispered.