“I can see how it would,” Jane said as she grabbed her bag. “Well, suck it up, Caleb. You’ll get over it.”

“Will I?” His brows rose. “We’ll have to see.”

“Not me. I could care less.” She moved toward the terminal exit. She was suddenly brimming with strength, determination, and the beginnings of excitement. For the first time since she had learned of Eve’s loss, Jane felt as if she was coming out of the darkness and heading toward her. Irrational? It didn’t matter. She’d take it and run with it.

Caleb smiled faintly as he motioned toward the door. He said softly, “Told you so.”

Pueblo, Colorado

Fourth Street

THIS SECTION OF THE CITY was filthy, Blick thought in disgust. Bums lying in alleys.

Dealers peddling their dope on street corners.

Whores in short skirts and four-inch heels strolling along, swinging their hips at the men in cars cruising slowly by.

No class.

Blick knew this type of slum well. When he’d joined the Army, before he had met Kevin, he had often frequented the pothouses and whorehouses of whatever city was near his base. It didn’t matter whether it was Detroit or Istanbul, they were all the same.

But Kevin had changed all of that. He had shown Blick new ways of pleasure, new ways of power. He’d found himself unable to go back to the old ways. He had to follow the path Kevin had laid out for him. Not often since he’d lost Kevin. He had found himself too afraid to be as bold as Kevin had been.

He could feel his eyes sting with tears. I don’t want to do this, Kevin. I know it’s not your way. But your father says it’s the only way that we can punish him.

He swallowed hard. He had been angry with Doane since he’d received that phone call. Doane had been ordering him around and telling him that he was not doing anything right since it had begun. He was the one who had been making mistakes, and Blick had been forced to risk his neck and change his plans and jump when Doane told him to do it.

It couldn’t last much longer. Blick wouldn’t let Doane give him orders. He only permitted Kevin to tell him what to do. Kevin was the master.

But he would do this last task for Doane because it might be the only way to get vengeance for Kevin. If Doane blundered and failed to make his fine plans work, then Blick would go his own way. He would find Zander and kill him himself.

After punishing Doane for failing Kevin.

His glance wandered over the street, with its filth that Kevin had found so unworthy.

Where to start …

The guy with pink-streaked hair and piercings in his nose and lip who was leaning against the wall and talking to a thin, young kid whose intensity was obvious. Drugs. He was trying to score, and the guy with the piercings was a dealer.

He pulled over to the curb and got out of the car. A dealer and an addict.

That’s where Blick could start.

Ghost Town

THIS WAS TRULY A GHOST TOWN, Eve thought, as her gaze traveled over the barren streets and wood buildings, some of which were still standing and others that had fallen down. She could almost feel the lonely abandonment that was echoing through the town.

But the saloon was still standing. So maybe Zander had been telling the truth about being here and putting the extra weapon and phone under the bar in the saloon.

“You’re very quiet,” Doane said mockingly as he stopped the truck and turned off the ignition. “Don’t you like your new home away from home? I was considering bringing you to this place first, but I decided the coin factory was safer, and it was easier to convert to my purpose.”

“Yes, I imagine it would be difficult to install those gas vents in the ceiling of that saloon over there,” she said dryly. “But it appears to be in one piece. Is that where you’re taking me?”

“We may end up there, but I’ve decided that old barbershop down the street will better suit your purpose.” He jumped out of the driver’s seat and came around to the passenger seat. “Get out.”

She jumped out of the truck onto the muddy street. The rain had stopped, but the cold mud was covering her shoes, and water was running rivulets down the dirt street. The rain had stopped, but the wind was still damp and chill as it touched her wet body. She was still soaked to the skin. When they’d stopped at the coin factory, Doane had not permitted her to change or even grab the few remaining garments that she’d left there when she’d escaped. The only things he’d taken from the factory were some of her tools and equipment, then he bundled her into the truck to bring her here. After handcuffing her to the steering wheel, he’d run back to the factory on some business of his own and not come back for a good twenty minutes. Then he’d driven down the mountain, slipping and sliding most of the way, even in this truck.

She stood there gazing at the ancient ruin of a town. People full of hope had once lived here and built their dreams. Now there was only desolation and loneliness.

A wolf howled in the foothills.

“I told you that the wolves would be after your Kevin,” Eve said maliciously. “He can’t get away from them. They’re even following him down to this shambles of a town.”

“Shut up about those wolves.”

The idea of wolves devouring his beloved Kevin evidently bothered him. It was something to store and remember. “Barbershop?” Her gaze wandered down the street until she spotted a small wooden structure with a red, white, and blue barber pole that was hanging from a broken metal arm and looked slightly drunken. “It’s very small.”

“You don’t need anything bigger.” He grabbed the huge sack of equipment he’d taken from the coin factory. Then his hand was grasping her elbow and half pushing her down the street. “You’re sculpting a skull, and you’re no Michelangelo.”

It wouldn’t hurt to try to change his mind. “The saloon would probably still be better. It would free me to move around the reconstruction and I’d have more room to—”

“No.” Doane said. “I’m not letting you more than a few feet away from me until you’ve finished that reconstruction. I don’t want you to have room.” He pushed the door of the barbershop open and shoved her inside.

Dust everywhere. Two ancient-looking barber chairs with cracked-leather seats. A broken mirror facing the chairs. “I can’t work in conditions like this.”

“You can and will.” He opened the sack and pulled out the dais he’d taken off the worktable at the factory. He placed it on the seat of one of the barber chairs, then took off his backpack and pulled out the skull. He gently placed it on the dais. “Repair the damage you’ve done. Then finish him, Eve.”

“I don’t have enough light.”

He pulled out a flashlight, and the dimness in the barbershop suddenly disappeared. He leveled his gun at her. “Finish him.”

She hesitated, staring at him. She was cold, wet, exhausted, and discouraged. Why not refuse and let it end? Why was it worth going on with a battle she wasn’t sure she wanted to win?

“I can see what you’re thinking. I’m not going to let you do this to us, Eve. I’ve got to give Kevin what he needs, what he wants.” His lips tightened. “And if you make me kill you, then I’ll go after everyone you love. I warned you about that. You’ll be responsible.”

“I won’t be responsible. I won’t accept your sins, Doane.”

But his words had reminded her that the battle was worth winning. If not for her, then for Joe and Jane.

And Bonnie.

Perhaps even for Zander, who could not be as evil as Kevin and Doane and might have furnished her with a path to freedom if she could get to that saloon.

So finish the damn reconstruction and try to get there as soon as possible.

“I’ll finish him,” she said curtly. “But I’m shaking, and my hands aren’t steady. You were so eager to punish me that you didn’t think about that when you jerked me down here without letting me dry off and change. Take off your jacket and give me your shirt.”