Another gunshot. A tree branch exploded near her head. She turned sharply, threw herself to the ground, and rolled a few yards down a gentle slope. Hell, that blade in his back had barely slowed him down.

She froze, holding her breath.

He’d stopped somewhere behind her, she realized. Waiting for her to make another move, to reveal her position.

Waiting for her to do something stupid.

A full minute passed. Then another.

A brisk wind kicked up, rustling the trees and giving her an opportunity to move down the hillside undetected.

But also offering him an opportunity to sneak toward her.

She crept farther down the hill, using the shadows as a cloak against the stark moonlight.

There was a clearing ahead. No good. She’d be a sitting duck out there, even more limited in this direction. She was at the quarry’s rim, some forty feet above its granite bottom. There was water, but she had no way of knowing if it was twenty feet deep or ten inches.

An indefensible position if ever there was one.

She looked back up the slope.

Was he still waiting for her?

She slowly, quietly made her way back, timing her movements to the gusts of wind.

“Kendra!”

Pounding footsteps. Crunching brush.

Coming her way.

She broke into a run.

But something caught her ankles and sent her flying. She hit the ground hard.

She rolled over and saw what had tripped her.

A length of rope, twenty feet or more, had been pulled taut between the trees.

Chatsworth’s rope. It had to be Chatsworth’s rope.

She jumped to her feet, but in that same moment, another rope snapped over her neck.

She couldn’t breathe.

Chatsworth whispered in her ear. “You can’t ruin my symphony, love. I’ve worked too hard.” He applied even more pressure.

She felt her eyes bulge and her tongue swell as he choked the life from her. She could see their shadows in a death dance on the forest floor. Then her vision clouded, but she could see the shadow of the blade still sticking from his back …

Not deep enough. Not deep enough.

She bared her teeth, and with every ounce of energy left, hurled herself backward. They both tumbled to the ground.

The ground met the blade and drove it deep into Chatworth’s back.

He grunted, and his grip loosened.

Kendra rolled away and jumped to her feet. She stood over him, her breath coming in gasps. She watched as blood bubbled from his wounds. He writhed in agony as the carved blade protruded from his chest. “Take it … out.”

“No way. That blade is a gift from Stevie Wallach’s father. It was meant for your hero, Colby, but you’ll do as well. It’s incredibly thin and weighs only a few ounces. I guess it was easy to miss with a quick frisk.” She added fiercely, “Or maybe I had a little help from Stevie. What do you think?”

Chatsworth’s eyes were wide, glittering, and full of hatred as he gazed up at her. “You bitch. Do you still think you’ve won? I’m too smart for you. We’re too smart for you. This is only the first battle.”

“You’re a dead man, Chatsworth.” She stared coldly down at him. “There will be no other battles. Smart? You’re just a two-bit killer who decided to ride the coattails of a scumbag who was only a little more intelligent than you. He used you to amuse himself during those last months of his life. He pulled your strings, and you jumped.”

“No!” His cheeks were flushed. “You don’t know anything. I was important to him. We were like brothers. He said that I was his eyes, his hands, his sword.” He coughed, and a thin rivulet of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth. “I gave him everything he asked of me. Well, almost. He kept talking about you and the gully. Always … the gully. It wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t give him you. But that’s okay, sometimes I thought he didn’t really … want me to be the one to deal with you anyway. Moriarty. He called himself … your … Moriarty.”

“Sherlock’s greatest enemy? That’s ridiculous. He flattered both himself and our relationship. I’m no Sherlock, and he certainly didn’t have the brains of a Moriarty. He was only a butcher who ended up on that execution table at San Quentin.” She added fiercely, “As for you, you’d have ended up the same way if you hadn’t decided to give Colby one last gift. You shouldn’t have come after the people I love, and you shouldn’t have come after me, Chatsworth.”

“Almost … made it.” His eyes were closing. “Do you think I’m afraid? I’m not afraid. Colby said that we’re above fear. The two of us are … different. I’ll get … over this. Just like him.”

“You can’t get over death. You’re dying, Chatsworth.”

“No, you’re wrong. You think you’re so smart, but you’re wrong about me … wrong about … Colby.”

“Open your eyes and look at me,” Kendra said. “You’ll see that I’m not wrong. I want you to know this is the end. I want you to know that you’re on your way to hell, and nothing can stop it. Open your eyes, dammit.”

He slowly opened his eyes.

“That’s right, look at me,” Kendra said harshly. “And think about all those poor people you killed at Colby’s bidding. Think about how you’re going to burn for all eternity because of them.”

She’d gotten through to him at last. For an instant, she saw realization and fear in his eyes. Then they were once more filled with a wild hatred. “The end? Never … you’ll never be…” He coughed, struggling for breath. “Closer … come closer, bitch. You’ve got to hear … Listen…”

She leaned closer, until they were only inches apart. “I can hear you, Chatsworth. What are you trying to say to me?”

“Only … this.” His eyes were burning into hers as he whispered, “Tetro … dotoxin.” Then his lids were closing. “Mereor…”

He was dead.

And Kendra was transfixed, frozen, as she stared down at him.

Tetrodotoxin?

She slowly sat back on her heels.

“Kendra?” She was barely aware of Lynch kneeling beside her. “Thank God. I heard the shots when I was down the road. Are you hurt?”

“No.” She moistened her lips. “I killed him, Lynch. But I don’t know…”

“You’re in shock.” He put his arm around her. “You’re shivering…”

“You’re right, I’m cold. I’m cold to my soul…”

“Because you killed that bastard? You know he deserved it.”

“Yes.”

“Look, you don’t have to stay here with him. Let’s go back to the car. I’ve called Griffin, and his team is on the way by helicopter. It’s over, Kendra.”

“Is it?” She was still looking down at Chatsworth’s face. “He didn’t think so.” Her mind was in high gear, thinking, searching, discarding, searching again. “And I’m not sure that I’m—” She broke off and leaned forward, her hands moving over Chatsworth’s body, searching his pockets.

“What are you doing?” Lynch asked. “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. It could be nothing.” She’d found a wallet. Nothing in it but a driver’s license and some cash. She dropped the wallet and jumped to her feet. “Maybe in his car…”

She was running back to Chatsworth’s SUV, where it was parked on the hill.

“What the hell?” Lynch was running after her.

She was already in the front seat of Chatsworth’s SUV when he reached her. She’d grabbed the iPad from the front seat and was going through the menu. “I’ll check the memos. You check the glove box.”

“And what am I’m looking for?”

“Information.”

“What kind of information?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Great.” He opened the glove box and started to go through it. “Nothing in here but some receipts, gloves…” He reached back. “And maybe…” He pulled out a small, ringed notepad. “This?”

She gazed at it for a moment and then slowly took the notebook. “Maybe…” She flipped open the cover. “Addresses…” She felt suddenly sick. “One of them is Dean Halley’s.” She flipped more pages. More names, more places. The Go Nuclear Club, her own address …