Hunting Eve (11 page)

“There could have been a practical, scientific explanation.” She took another drink of water. “There were statues of her, and they looked like me. Since I couldn’t trace my own ancestors, someone suggested that it could have been a racial ancestral memory.”

“That’s a reach.”

“So were the dreams.”

“And you preferred to latch onto an explanation you could comfortably accept.”

“Maybe.” She finished the water and put the bottle back on the nightstand. “Turn out the light. I’m okay now.”

“Not yet. I want to explore this a little further. I’m intrigued at seeing this side of you.”

“You mean you’re intrigued at the idea I could be a little weird, like you?” She shook her head. “I admit that those dreams when I was younger were strange and disturbing, but I haven’t had one like that in years.”

“Not even tonight?”

Yes, that dream of Eve had been like the dreams of Cira. The clarity, the realism, the sense of being there with her. “Perhaps. Look, Eve believes in all that kind of stuff. I respect her, but she’s not me. It was a dream, Caleb. Drop it.”

“After I ask you a few questions. When you were searching for answers to Cira’s story, did you find some of those answers because of what you dreamed about Cira?”

She was silent. “Yes.”

“You didn’t want to admit that.”

“As I told you, possible racial ancestral memory.”

“The dreams were very detailed?”

“Most of the time.”

“Interesting. Could you remember the details of your dream about Eve?”

“Probably. If I tried.”

“Why don’t you try?”

“What?”

“It couldn’t hurt, could it?” He opened the drawer of the nightstand and took out a yellow pad and pen. “Describe the surroundings, what Eve was looking at, what she was thinking, anything you can remember.”

“Why?”

“Details. It worked once, didn’t it? You found the answers to Cira. You might be able to find where Eve is right now.”

“It was a dream, dammit.”

Caleb merely looked at her.

“And I wouldn’t have any racial or ancestral memory with Eve. I’m adopted.”

“But you have a connection with her whose power could supersede any vague ancestral memory like the one you’re describing.” He added softly, “Faith can move mountains. Love can move mountains. Maybe there’s a reason you started to think about silver mornings.”

“Good God, you sound almost sentimental. Not at all like you.”

He smiled. “I have an agenda. It’s not going to be simple to keep you in this hospital for a few days. If you have something of value to do that will push the hunt forward, it will be easier for me.”

She gazed at him without expression. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“How did you find Cira?”

“Scouring the Internet for info, tracking down esoteric books, calling academic experts when I had leads.” She paused. “You’re saying that I should do the same thing with investigating the area where I saw Eve in my dream.”

“Or anything that she was thinking that might give you a clue.”

She didn’t speak for a long time. “You know it’s crazy.”

“What could it hurt?” he repeated.

What could hurt was the desperate hope she was beginning to feel, she thought. She was grasping at straws, and probably the disappointment was going to crush her.

But she had found Cira in the end. She hadn’t given up until she had all the answers. So this was different, the odds even greater that she wouldn’t be able to succeed. Take every chance, go down every road that might lead to Eve.

“They were new mountains, sharp, towering. Maybe the Rockies.”

“Put it down on the notepad.”

“Later.” She sat up straighter in bed. “Get my sketchpad from the closet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He went over to the closet. “You’re right, drawing it will make everything clearer for you.” He drew out the pad and brought it back to her. “But maybe take a nap first?”

“Hell, no. I might forget something. I can do that while you go out and get me a load of travel books.”

“Is that my first task?”

“Along with doing computer site work. I don’t have time to do it all myself. And you might find something that I don’t.” She flipped open the pad. “Now be quiet and let me concentrate. Eve was moving all the time except for the time she was looking down into the valley. She was on the run. I’ll have to make several sketches so I won’t miss anything.”

“Should I bring up the fact that I think you’re supposed to rest while you’re in here?”

“You should have thought of that when you turned me loose on this wild-goose chase. You can’t stop me now.”

“No, I don’t believe I can. At least, medical staff will be on hand if you collapse from exhaustion.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I’ll enjoy watching you work. The intensity is like a comet streaking.”

She made a rude sound.

He chuckled. “It’s true. People never see themselves as others see them.”

She didn’t answer, frowning as her pencil flew over the page.

Minutes passed before he spoke again. “I’ve been thinking about your Cira. If you’re right, and she was your ancestor—”

“I didn’t say that. It’s one explanation.”

“And the other might be reincarnation, which is way too far out there for you to consider. At least openly. But haven’t you wondered?”

“No.”

“I would. But then my family is very ancient, very wicked, and the descendants of our founding fathers have been struggling for centuries to stamp out any trace of similarity. Reincarnation is a great excuse for failure.”

“I don’t want any excuse for my sins.”

“But then your sins are almost nonexistent compared to mine.” He tilted his head. “You mentioned Cira had a lover. What was his name?”

“Anthony.”

“And did Anthony remind you of anyone you knew?”

She stiffened. “What does it matter? I don’t want to talk about any of this, Caleb.”

“He did remind you of someone. Let’s see, Mark Trevor was very much in your life at that time, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Did Cira’s lover remind you of Trevor?”

She didn’t answer.

“Did he, Jane?” he asked softly.

She shrugged, her gaze still on the sketch. “Yes.”

She wasn’t looking at him but she heard him sigh.

“I was afraid of that. Oh, shit.”

CHAPTER

5

Rio Grande Forest
Colorado

AN ANCIENT RED TRUCK.

Yes.

Venable had mentioned an old red truck that Doane had stolen in one of his reports, Zander thought.

This old log house was in the cell-tower area from which Doane had made the call to him. According to the Google map he’d pulled up, buildings of any kind were extremely sparse in this wilderness. There had been one possibility down in the valley that Zander had dismissed immediately after taking a quick look around. Then he’d driven up the mountain to the second habitation on his map, which had looked more promising. It was higher in the mountains, where there were seldom any hunters or tourists.

An ideal place to keep a prisoner.

Make sure.

He’d already reconnoitered the house and judged it unoccupied at the moment. He popped the lock on the truck and started looking for gas receipts or anything else that would ID Doane.

On the passenger seat was a folded black cloth. He lifted it to his nose. A faint fragrance. The cloth could have been used as a blindfold. The scent was definitely feminine.

He burgled the glove compartment and found the gas receipts for which he’d been looking. Not charged to a credit card. But one was from a station in Birmingham, the other a small town in Missouri. Both issued on the same day.

The path was clear.

He gazed speculatively at the log house. It was probably booby-trapped. Doane’s son had been Special Forces as well as al-Qaeda-trained and had probably taught his father. It would take time to disarm even though it would be an ideal place to ambush Doane as he entered the place.

And where were Doane and Eve Duncan? The truck was here, and presumably this was where Eve was working on the reconstruction. Yet neither one of them appeared to be on-site. They would not be taking a casual stroll, and unless Blick was nearby, and they were using his car, there was no reason for them to be gone.

He quickly checked the area for other tire tracks.

No Blick.

It could be that Doane had become enraged with Eve and killed her.

However, that would be a last choice for Doane. He had the idea fixed in his head that he would hurt Zander more if he made him witness Eve’s death.

Which left one other interesting possibility.

“Did you take it on the lam, Eve?” he murmured. “How unobliging of you to be so troublesome to Doane.” He looked up at the path leading to wilderness country. “But it may make my task more of a challenge.”

Hunting the hunter. Much more exciting than hunting prey.

The hunter seldom expected to be caught in the crosshairs when he was feeling the exhilaration of being the dominant one. He turned and headed down the rock road, where he’d left his Jeep a mile from the area of the house. He’d get his weapons and equipment and set out tracking.

He was already feeling the urgency, the excitement of the hunt.

She had said that she wouldn’t count on anyone to protect her, but if she could hold out in that harsh country until he tracked down Doane, she might have a chance to save herself.

He found his pace unconsciously escalating at the thought. What was he doing? He deliberately slowed as he realized that his instinct had been to rush that kill just to get to Eve. He’d thought those instincts had died long ago.

He could almost name the date and hour.

He’d take his time, not rush the kill and risk making a mistake. If that time proved to be in time for Eve, then so be it.

If not, then she could take care of herself.

Lake Cottage

THE SKY HAD JUST BEGUN
to lighten to a dusty orange when Joe walked into the cottage.

Kendra stood up from the kitchen table. “How’s Jane?”

“Extremely pissed. They’re going to keep her there for a few days. They’ve pumped her full of antibiotics to combat the infection, and depending on how she responds to treatment, surgery may be necessary again.”

“I could see that she has a lot of fight in her. Like Eve.”

“You’ve got that right. It’s going to be tough getting her to stay in that hospital. I halfway expected to come in this door and find her here ahead of me.”

“Not yet anyway. Did you hear about the car?”

Joe grimly nodded. “I called Venable on the way back. They’ve just notified the farmer’s family. Venable said you’d found a few other threads to go on. What were they?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. But maybe something to build on.” Kendra told him about the scrapes in the trunk and passenger compartment as well as the information provided by the radio-station presets. She showed him the area map on her iPad screen.

Joe studied it. “Mineral County, Colorado. What’s there?”

“Very little. It actually has the distinction of being one of the most remote areas in the Continental U.S. It’s on the Continental Divide. Mountains, forests, and not a whole lot of anything else.”

Joe studied it for a moment longer. “Does Venable know about this?”

She nodded. “But not about the additional stuff I found out about Mineral County. I’ve been looking it up while I sat here waiting for you. Venable is checking the area out against Doane’s known associations.”

“Good.”

Kendra picked up a page of notebook paper from the kitchen table. “I was writing you a note. I’m leaving for Colorado in just a few minutes.”

Joe stiffened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“There’s nothing left for me to do here, Quinn.”

“For God’s sake, you haven’t even slept.”

“And how much sleep have you had since you found out Eve had been taken?” When he didn’t answer, she shrugged. “I didn’t think so. You called me because you thought I could help. And I think maybe I can. But neither of us has the luxury of sitting around and seeing which move that we make is the right one. We’re just throwing everything into the mix and hoping one of them sticks. It’s all we can do when Eve is in danger every second she’s held by that psychopath.”

Joe’s jaw clenched, and he looked away. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Then stop trying to protect me. I’ll sleep on the plane. I’ll start at Doane’s house in Goldfork. I assume you can arrange access for me.”

“Of course.”

“Then do it. There may be something at Doane’s house that can help us,” Kendra said. “Maybe point out a way to figure out where he’s taken Eve.”

“The CIA has searched that place several times over the years. And I guarantee you that they’ve been there almost nonstop since Doane left. They haven’t come up with anything.”

Kendra wrinkled her nose. “If I had a dollar every time a law-enforcement officer told me there was nothing more to see at a crime scene…”

“I know, I know. That’s why I wanted you part of this, Kendra. You don’t see, you experience. I just didn’t want you to waste time crisscrossing the country.”

“You all have things pretty well covered here. If it turns out to be a dead end, I’ll catch the first flight back here. Or wherever else I can help.” She smiled crookedly. “I know you won’t be shy about sending me to hell and back if there’s a chance of that.”

Joe nodded. “Thanks, Kendra.”

“But there’s something you need to know.” Kendra motioned toward a clear glass of water on the coffee table. Four tiny capsule-shaped objects rested on the bottom of the glass. Each object had a single thin wire lead protruding from the underside, almost like a long tail.

Joe stared at the glass, then gave a low curse. “Are those—”

“Listening devices. I put them in the water to neutralize them. I didn’t want to destroy them on the off chance that you could trace them. Someone bugged the house.”

Joe reached in and plucked one of the capsules from the glass. “Where?”