Fear No Evil

have listened to your family and not met with someone you didn’t know.”

“Why?” Her voice came out a squeak. She hated being afraid. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’re going to be a star, Lucy.”

“I want to go home. My family has some money. Call them. They’ll come.”

He laughed, stood, and walked back to the hatch door. “Lucy, do you think everything is about money? You don’t understand now, but you will. Very, very soon. Your family might try to find you, but you’ll never see them again.”

He opened the door.

“What are you going to do?”

Trevor looked over his shoulder. “Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to know.”

She was perfect.

Trevor Conrad wasn’t his name, but he’d once known-and killed-a man named Trevor Conrad. In fact, were Trevor still alive he would have fallen head over heels for the dark-haired beauty. But Trevor was, deservedly, in his grave. As far as Lucy was concerned, he was Trevor Conrad, a freshman at Georgetown. Trask was fine with that identity for the time being. After Lucy was dead, he would step into another dead man’s shoes. He had plenty to choose from.

Trask wasn’t his name, either, but he’d grown used to it. He liked it. The name commanded respect. Trask. Strong, forceful, in charge. He’d particularly enjoyed the way Special Agent Kate Donovan spat it from her mouth, with such venom, right before he disappeared from the warehouse with her partner. He loved women who fought back. They were the most fun to kill.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to get to Kate in the warehouse, a minor failure. Ever since she and her partner had started investigating Trask Enterprises, they’d been a problem. On the surface his corporation had been legitimate, but they had dug too deep. They’d never be able to prove he killed April Klinger. First, his face had never been shown on screen. Second, there was no body. The acid would have eaten away every identifiable piece of April even if they were able to find where he’d buried her.

But his other operations were at risk. While Trask Enterprises was legitimate and aboveboard, his more entertaining sideline was not.

The bigger failure of that night was Kate Donovan killing two of his men. He couldn’t forgive her for that. Good men who took orders were hard to find. And because she’d seen him, he’d had to disappear, putting his legitimate business in the hands of pathetic investors who were now raking in the dough from Trask’s own cyber masterpiece: sexual fantasy role-playing. And Roger had had to go underground because he was wanted for murder.

Just thinking of all he’d lost, the money he’d been forced to spend to stay in hiding these past five years, enraged him. He’d taken care of Paige Henshaw, but Kate had slipped away. The bitch. He couldn’t wait to someday get his hands around her little neck.

But for now, he’d let pretty little Lucy think whatever she wanted. And she thought he was Trevor Conrad. Although it really didn’t matter if she knew his real name; she’d be dead in two days.

“All clear?” he asked Ollie as he went on deck.

The sun had set, and its dim light was fading fast. The evening breeze this far north was cold, but he didn’t put on a jacket. He enjoyed the sensation, the freshest air in the world empowering him. He’d always felt at home here.

“Yes, sir,” Ollie said.

“Dock next time you come around. Is the house ready?”

“Yes. Denise did a terrific job.”

“I knew she would.”

He had planned on killing Denise years ago, but she was so perfectly submissive she had ended up becoming a necessary partner. Special Agent Paige Henshaw had died in her place. It was better that way. Denise would do anything Trask asked, though it wasn’t as much fun pretending to rape a woman as it was to take a woman who didn’t want him.

Paige. She’d been satisfying, though because of her arrogant partner tracking her to the cabin, he’d had to rush her kill, resulting in a loss of more than a million dollars.

He’d lied to Lucy Kincaid: it was always about the money. The rest, well, that was just plain fun.

This island had become his sanctuary five years ago when he’d had to go underground. His network had temporarily fallen apart and he had tried, unsuccessfully, to find that bitch who’d fucked him. But Special Agent Kate Donovan had her own problems and she’d disappeared herself.

How does it feel to be on the run, Kate? Someday I’ll come for you. You can’t hide from me forever.

Killing Lucy Kincaid would be fun.

Killing Kate Donovan would be ecstasy.

TWO

JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT the alarm sounded.

Kate leaped from the cot, sliding her feet into boots before they touched the frigid cement floor. She strode to the computer bank that filled an entire wall of her barren room. She didn’t need additional lighting. The computer screens provided enough illumination for her to use the keyboard.

Typing in her personal codes, she watched the computer security program she’d enhanced identify the latest webcam that had gone live.

She didn’t get her hopes up that it would be Trask. For the past five years she’d been running and watching, always on the lookout for him. She was keeping strong, staying smart. After Paige, he’d killed two others, and they, too, weighed on her conscience. If only she’d taken him down when she’d had the chance.

But now she had better technology, more equipment, and time. After finding this hiding place two years ago, she was no longer running. That gave Kate an edge. She didn’t have to watch her back as vigorously.

Her alarm went off at least twice a day, sometimes more. She ran through the protocols she’d set up to triangulate the signal, not missing a step. The methodical process kept her heart rate steady, her mind engaged.

She knew that if she could find the signal quickly, it wouldn’t be Trask. He was too good.

Feed not found.

She sat up straighter, flipped on the coffeepot to reheat what was left from earlier in the day. Her resources were at a premium, drinking stale coffee part of the routine. Her blond hair and blue eyes stuck out in Mexico, so she didn’t make the daylong trip to Monterrey often. She didn’t want to have to disappear again. Besides, between government factions both good and bad, and the bands of criminals and drug smugglers, the whole area was dangerous-except here. This mountaintop observatory was an ideal place to monitor Trask’s movement. High enough to get rid of chatter, to tap into national security networks, to monitor every live webcam she found the feed for. Remote enough that she and ancient Professor Fox didn’t get visitors or tourists.

She usually bribed one of the local kids to bring her supplies. Sometimes they left with her money, but sometimes they came back for an opportunity to look at the stars.

Sometimes she looked at the stars as well, on nights when she didn’t feel that everything she did was hopeless. That Trask was going to kill again, another woman was going to suffer a violent, miserable death so Trask could rake in millions of dollars from the perverts who jerked off to the rape and torture and slaughter of women.

Kate wanted to kill him with her bare hands, wanted to make Trask suffer like he had made, by her count, nine women suffer. She would use a knife or a gun or any other weapon at her disposal. He needed to be