“The hell I would,” Kendra said. “You’re scaring me, Venable. We’re so close to being able to get Eve out of this. I won’t let her die because you’ve gone trigger-happy.”

Venable was silent. “You’re right. Perhaps a more subtle, indirect, approach is best. I’ll work on locating that coin factory and get back to you.” He hung up.

Kendra stared blindly down at the map. She should have felt reassured by those last words. She did not feel reassured; she was uneasy. As she had told Venable, he had scared her. The CIA man was experienced and intelligent and should know better than to rush an operation like the one that might be facing them. Yet his first impulse was not intelligent at all.

She was tempted to call Joe Quinn, but evidently he wasn’t presently available. Jane had called her back and told her that she’d not been able to reach Quinn by phone and had sent him an e-mail.

And what could he do anyway from Vancouver? Except maybe contact Venable and make sure he’d taken Kendra’s protests seriously. It would probably be fine. It was just that she’d gone through a hideous experience in the past that had not gone fine but terribly wrong.

“You’re frowning.”

She looked up to see Margaret coming toward her from the picnic area. “Am I? I’ve got to stop that. I hear it causes wrinkles. Where did you go?” She watched Margaret drop onto the picnic bench beside her.

Margaret raised Kevin’s journal. “I wanted to go someplace where I could concentrate on this. You seemed to have things under control here.” She grinned. “Though I don’t know how you could manage without my invaluable help.”

“It was a terrible burden. But I now know where we’re headed. We’ll check into a hotel and set out first thing in the morning. Jane will be here by then, and she can come with us.”

“Good. In the meantime, maybe we can give this journal a closer look.” Margaret snapped the cover band of the journal. “I just read something that makes me think we were right not to give it up too quickly.”

Kendra’s gaze flew to her face. “What?”

“Later. While we’re getting something to eat. It may be nothing, but it made me uneasy.”

“Uneasy?” It was strange that Kendra had been bombarded by that same emotion only moments before. At a time when hope should have been soaring, it wasn’t good that both she and Margaret were experiencing doubt and apprehensiveness.

Margaret shrugged. “It will be okay. Don’t worry. We’ll work through it.”

“Now that’s one of your typically optimistic comments that has no basis on fact or reason.” Yet Kendra felt a sudden surge of gladness that Margaret was here with her, and her words were giving her both warmth and comfort. She smiled. “But you know, I’m not only becoming accustomed to them, I’ve started to search for some inner wisdom in them. That’s pretty frightening.”

Margaret giggled. “It would be more frightening if you found it.” She got to her feet. “Come on, let’s find someplace to eat. I need something normal and megacalorie to balance all this high-powered brain drain.”

CIA Field Office

Denver, Colorado

VENABLE LEANED FORWARD in his chair and stared at the photograph that the young researcher, Callie Burke, had just handed him. “What exactly am I looking at?”

“It’s a coin press made by McGruber Mechanics and Associates between 1848 and sometime during the Civil War. Based on the photographs and measurements taken from Doane’s car in Atlanta, this is what he had been transporting. And based on how little oxidation there is on the interior trunk marks, it was probably in the past couple of weeks.”

Venable nodded. “Exactly what Kendra Michaels said.”

“It’s a different-model coin press than in the photo she sent. But it’s similar. The team in Atlanta said they wouldn’t have even thought of it if she hadn’t tipped us off.”

Venable placed the photo on his desk. Burke, the researcher, a slender woman in her mid-twenties, was obviously eager to impress. She had gone into high gear when he’d issued an order to speed up the research after he’d received that call from Kendra. Okay, impress me. “How many of these were made?”

She shook her head. “As far as we can tell, only about fifteen were ever in use in North America. It’s hard to tell how many still exist. We’re still combing ads and online auction listings to see how many have turned up in the collectors’ market. But we did find something interesting: one of these was originally used in a coinery near Drakebury Springs, Colorado.”

Yes. He tried to keep her from seeing the intense interest the last bit of info generated in him. “That’s why I told you to look in that area. Doane’s car may have been there.”

“Yes, sir. And that old coinery is still standing. It was sold as a private residence about four years ago.”

“Sold to whom?”

“A holding company. We’re still running it down. It’s not clear if the coin press was still there, but the real-estate listing did make a lot of the fact that it was a former gold-rush coin factory with many original features intact. We’re still trying to contact the property’s real-estate broker to ascertain if the coin press was there.”

Venable nodded. “Good work. Let me know the minute you hear something.”

The researcher hurried out of the room.

But Venable would bet that coin press was no longer in the factory. He felt a rush of fierce satisfaction.

I’ve got him, General. He’s mine. I’m going to take him down.

He quickly got off an e-mail to Kendra Michaels with the information and leaned back in his chair. He thought for a long moment, staring at the photograph on his desk. Difficulties. Kendra Michaels, Joe Quinn, Jane MacGuire. He’d have to sweep those difficulties away.

So? He was good at eliminating difficulties.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. “I need to pull a team together right away. See about borrowing one from the FBI. Tonight. We’re heading for southern Colorado.”

Drakebury Springs Ghost Town

Southern Colorado

“YOU HAVE HIM ALMOST REPAIRED,” Doane said as he studied the skull reconstruction. “Pretty soon, we’ll be ready to put in his eyes.”

“Déjà vu,” Eve said, her gaze on the skull.

“Yes, we’re back to square one.” Doane got up from the barber’s chair and came over to the makeshift dais. “All your agony and running didn’t get you anywhere, did it?”

“It got me somewhere. I ran you ragged. I blasted your neat little plan to kingdom come. Or you wouldn’t have abandoned the coin factory and brought me to this wreck of a town.”

“Are you ready for the eyes now?”

“Not yet.” She had the same reluctance she’d had before when they’d come to this point. She didn’t want to see those blue eyes staring at her. It didn’t matter whether or not they were glass. “I have to smooth the corner of the orbital cavity. One of the cavities is deeper than—”

“Hush!” Doane’s head lifted. “A car! Do you hear it?”

She listened, and her heart leaped. Let it be help. “Yes.” She moistened her lips. “Why don’t you take the reconstruction and get out of here? You might be able to get away before—”

“Be quiet.” He was peering out the broken window. Then he started to laugh. “No threat. It’s our old friend, Blick. Right on time. Even a little early. I’m glad to see he was so eager.”

She tried to hide her disappointment. “Time for what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He took a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket pocket. “And I promise you will know very soon.” He took one of her wrists and handcuffed it to the arm of the chair on which the dais was sitting. “I have to go greet him. I wouldn’t want you to slip away on me.”

“I can’t work this way.”

“I’ll give you a little rest. Isn’t that kind of me? This is more important.”