“The reconstruction.”

“No.” He grimaced. “The fact that Eve is Zander’s daughter.”

Joe froze. “What? That’s not possible.”

“Zander’s daughter, and Doane knows it. It would just be too coincidental that he would pick Eve to do the reconstruction on his son.”

Joe shook his head. “That’s got to be bullshit. Eve didn’t know who her father was. I don’t think her mother did either.”

“That would surprise me because Zander definitely knew about Eve. He told me about her five years ago. He always thought Doane would walk away from that safe house. He was looking at possible chinks in his armor that Doane might attempt to find. He thought Eve might be one. He told me if Doane ever split to look in Eve Duncan’s direction.”

Joe was trying to take it all in, but he was too stunned. “And you never mentioned it to Eve? You’ve known it all these years, and you never told us.”

“I wouldn’t mention it now if I didn’t have to. Eve has made a decent life for herself. She didn’t need to know that her father is probably the deadliest assassin I’ve ever run across. I didn’t know what kind of effect that would have on her.”

“No effect. Nothing could change what she is or how she thinks about herself.”

“And you?”

“Are you crazy? Even if this crap is true, which I doubt, Eve stands alone.” He took a harsh breath. “But if he thinks it’s true, can I use it to get Zander to help me find Eve?”

Venable shook his head. “He doesn’t care, Quinn. I’ve tried that card, and he doesn’t give a damn. I’ve never seen a colder bastard.”

“I can be colder,” Joe said. “Watch me.”

“That’s what I’ve been afraid of. The situation between Zander and Eve may be … complicated. Don’t jump until you know what’s going on with him.”

“I don’t care what’s going on with him as long as I can use him to get to Eve.” He was going down the steps. “You just try to find out where that damn cell tower is.” He opened his car door. “By the time my flight reaches Vancouver, I want answers, Venable.”

Rio Grande Forest

Colorado

THREAT. DANGER.

Doane!

Eve’s eyes flew open, jarred from sleep!

Yes, Doane!

He was coming toward her, slowly, creeping through the forest to catch her off guard.

And he had caught her off guard. She had allowed herself just a few hours to nap and regain strength.

Too long. Too long.

He couldn’t be more than fifteen feet away from her.

Run!

She jumped to her feet and bolted.

He was right behind her, his hand grabbing her shoulder. “Oh, no, Eve. I had you. You’re not going to—”

Her elbow lashed backward, plowing into his stomach.

He grunted, bending double with pain.

His grasp on her shoulder loosened.

She pulled free and ran.

So close.

She could hear him behind her.

Keep running.

He had not caught her though she had been helpless in those first few moments.

Instinct. Self-preservation. Bonnie.

Whatever had caused her to sense him and wake had saved her. She was making mistakes, but she was learning.

She was not helpless now. She had will and determination and the strength of her body and mind.

And she would not let him catch her.

“How long do you think you can hold out, Eve?” Doane’s voice was mocking behind her. “I almost got you this morning, didn’t I? But I managed to grab your duffel with all those treasures that are helping you to survive.”

Eve ran harder.

She’d not had a chance to think about that loss. She had been forced to leave her duffel, blanket … and that spear she had made from the branch.

They were treasures. She had planned on using that spear and maybe distracting Doane enough to get hold of his gun.

Or give him a karate chop that would kill the son of a bitch.

She had never thought she would plan to deliberately kill a human being. It had to be self-defense. It was always a last resort.

But this was beginning to feel like a last resort. The hours of being hunted and the sound of his voice telling her that he was going to kill her had taken their toll.

She would not let him kill her.

She would not be captured and forced to deal with that hideous skull that had sometimes seemed as if it filled her world.

Keep running. She had seen a vine-covered ravine up ahead where she could perhaps become lost in the heavy foliage.

He thought she was getting weaker, that he was wearing her down.

He was wrong. Perhaps that should have been the result of his stalking, but it had the opposite effect. She was feeling stronger, her body was becoming more agile, the muscles toned, her senses sharper. The berries and plants she’d found to eat had not been sufficient, but they’d warded off weakness. The worst enemy had been the cold and the early-morning frost, but she’d been able to withstand that, too. It would be harder now that she no longer had the blanket and extra clothing, but she’d get through it.

So that she could be hunted another day?

Sudden anger tore through her at the thought.

No way.

It was time she stopped being on the defensive and turned hunter herself.

She would find another branch, make another weapon, find another opportunity.

She would not let him beat her.

Even if she had to kill him.

CHAPTER

6

Goldfork, Colorado

THE SUN WAS GOING DOWN when Kendra pulled up in front of the small house in a suburb that seemed to be composed of similar houses on every street. It had taken her almost as long to drive from the Denver Airport to Goldfork as it had to fly all the way from Atlanta. The town was located in a rural area just an hour from the Wyoming border, and it seemed an ordinary town and the people she saw on the streets also very ordinary. A typical American town in the beautiful state of Colorado.

It went right along with the story Joe had told her about Doane and his five-year stay in this safe house. He had taken on the coloration of the place and his neighbors like a chameleon and lulled everyone into thinking he was a good guy and good neighbor and not the psychopath he had hidden so well.

A young, uniformed police officer stood in front of Doane’s house, leaning against his gold-and-white patrol car. He waved her toward a patch of gravel that had obviously been used as a parking lot for other vehicles in the previous few days. Kendra stopped her rental car and climbed out. She took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of dozens of plants in the subalpine woods surrounding the subdivision.

“May I help you?” The officer stepped toward her.

“I’m Kendra Michaels. I was told you’d be expecting me.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I see your badge or official ID?”

She showed him her California driver’s license. “I’m afraid this is as official as it gets.”

He checked her name against a list in a pocket notebook. “Thank you. They told me you’d be coming.” His smile revealed a front tooth that was a shade browner than the others. “I’m Officer Tim Rollins, Goldfork PD. I was told to extend every courtesy to you.”

“Police? Isn’t this an FBI investigation?”

“It is. We’re just providing assistance and support to secure the scene.”

“Have there been a lot of people through here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Pretty near every forensics specialty, K-9 units, bomb squad, you name it.”

“Did they find anything?”

“I don’t think so. I heard more than one agent say it was a waste of time to come here.”

“Just what I need to hear after eight hours of traveling.”

“Maybe you’ll do better.” He handed her a pair of evidence gloves and two disposable polypropylene surgical shoe covers. “Please put these on to avoid contaminating the scene.”

“Sure.” Kendra smiled as she pulled the booties over her shoes. “Boy or girl?”