The van slowed. He was going to stop for her!
Suddenly, Dale’s car came around the corner at the other end of the street and accelerated. He lurched to a stop, got out, and ran toward her.
She had to turn her back on him to run to the van, but she had a good head start. Dale knew it was over, didn’t he? Still, as she ran she imagined she could feel his breath on her neck, the smell of hot oil from the stupid car, his feet pounding on the pavement. Could picture him grabbing her at the last minute—
But it didn’t happen.
A hand propped the passenger door open.
She started to say “thanks,” but the words froze in her throat. Something leaped out at her from the darkness.
Talons grabbed her, hard, pulled her around, a crushing grip around her throat as the thick arm levered her almost off the ground, elbow catching her chin and neck in a vise. She was dragged off her feet, her hip bumping hard against the side of the van. One of her sandals fell to the ground, and with cold clarity, she realized that she would never need it again. Then she was pulled in, backwards, across the seat. Struggling as the driver put the van in gear.
“No!” Dale screamed.
Just before the door slammed shut, she saw Dale Lundy’s eyes, a mirror of her own bottomless terror.
52
Laura left the motor home to Victor and drove the few blocks to DPS. Hard to believe that Lundy had been under their noses all this time. Hidden in plain sight.
Although they had cops crawling all over the Benson Highway area, FBI agents at the airport, Highway Patrol and sheriffs in four counties looking for a white GEO with a Colorado license plate, Lundy had slipped through the net.
He could be anywhere.
She went to see Charlie Specter.
He looked up from his computer. “I was just going to call you. I think Lundy’s got a soulmate.”
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
He handed her a log of incoming e-mails to Lundy’s account that his server had faxed over:
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
mortgagemike@mortgagemike.com
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
newsletter@studiomusician.com
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
darkmoondancer@livewire.net
Charlie leaned back in his chair, watching her face. “How about that? In my professional opinion, this guy is
