He paused, drew a deep breath, then burst into the clearing. Thank God. Can you help me? My wife is hurt. We were setting up camp down the road and she fell and broke
I know where theyre camped, Gil said. Im on my way. But Im two hours behind. The ranger said there was another inquiry earlier this evening.
Logans hand tightened on the receiver. Be careful.
Am I stupid? Of course Ill be careful. Particu-larly if its Fiske.
Fiske?
I called my contact in the Treasury Department and the word is that Timwicks been known to use Al-bert Fiske on occasion. Fiske was a hit man for the CIA and a damn good one. He always wanted the toughest jobs, the most prestigious hits. He takes in-ordinate pride in his efficiency and ability to do jobs no one else can do. In the last five years hes severed his ties with the Company and struck out on his own, and hes done very well. He moves fast, knows the system well enough to make it work for him. He paused. And he likes it, Logan. He really likes it.
Shit.
Ill call you back when I find them.
Logan slowly replaced the receiver.
He moves fast.
How fast?
And in what direction?
The house phone on the desk buzzed.
Ms. Duncan left the house three minutes ago, Mark said.
Is she heading for the front gate?
No, shes going up the hill.
Ill be right there.
Logan came into the carriage house a few min-utes later.
Shes at the graveyard, Mark said.
Logan walked over to the bank of monitors. Whats she doing?
Its dark and shes in the shadow of that tree. Shes not doing anything as far as I can tell. Just standing there.
Standing just outside a graveyard in the middle of the night.
Zero in closer.
Mark made an adjustment on the control board and Eves face was suddenly on the screen before him.
It told him nothing. She was looking at the flower-covered graves, her face totally without ex-pression. What had he expected? Strain? Torment?
Pretty weird, huh? Mark asked. What a nutcase.
Damn you, shes not a nut He broke off, as surprised as Mark at the sudden burst of fury. Sorry, but shes not crazy. Shes just carrying around a lot of baggage.
Okay, okay, Mark said. I just thought it was all kind of weird. I wouldnt be trekking up to a grave-yard at night. I guess she He suddenly started to laugh. Shit. Youre right, shes normal as hell.
Eve was looking up into the trees, and the middle finger of her right hand was lifted in an obscene gesture.
Shes giving us the bird. Mark was still chuck-ling. I think I like her, John.
Logan found himself smiling. He liked her too, dammit. He liked her strength and intelligence and resilience. Even her stubbornness and unpre-dictability intrigued him. In other circumstances he would have liked having her for a friendhellip; or even a lover.
Lover. He hadnt realized he was regarding her in a sexual light until that moment. She was attractive, but hed been more aware of her mind and person-ality than her tall, graceful body.
Yeah, sure. Who was he kidding? Hell, sex was al-ways important and, if he was honest with himself, Eves very breakability aroused him.
Which made him pretty much of a scumbag.
So forget it. Concentrate on what was important, the reason hed brought her there.
And why the hell she was still in that damn graveyard.
The warm wind stirred the carnations on the graves and carried the faintest scent to where Eve was standing outside the fence.
She had told Margaret she wasnt a ghoul who hung around graveyards, so why was she there? Why hadnt she gone to bed as shed intended instead of obeying the crazy impulse that had brought her there?
And it was impulse.
To believe something had called her there was insane, and she was not insane. She had fought that fight after Fraser had been executed and she had to be very careful not to let herself go down the path toward madness. It would be so easy. Dreaming of Bonnie at night was permissible, but she mustnt imagine Bonnie was there when
