Hunting Eve

Darkness.

Sour whiskey.

Suffocating walls closing in around her.

A coffin, the cupboard was like a coffin.

She took three deep breaths.

Okay, get control.

Doane had done his best to terrify her and make sure she knew how hopeless her situation was. Now she had to clear her head and look for a way out.

She had a few hours without Doane. The bar where Zander had told her he had placed the gun and phone were only yards away. If Zander hadn’t lied to her. She had to believe he had not deceived her. She needed something to believe in right now. But how to get out of this damn cupboard …

It had been a bolt lock. The cupboard must be over a century old and been left to rot in this place. Pinewood was not strong like oak. She had managed to pry open the drawer of the desk at the coin factory by shattering the wood around the lock.

She looked down at her handcuffed wrists. She’d have to be Houdini to get out of them. She had no tool to pry anything.

She heard a scampering outside the cupboard. The roof rats with which Doane had been taunting her, she thought absently. She could almost see their sharp teeth gnawing at every piece of wood within sight. She and Joe had been plagued by those rats one summer at the cottage. They had been difficult to get rid of because they were voracious eating machines.

She stiffened. And those eating machines would not have left this pine cupboard alone without taking at least a few bites.

Perhaps weakening the wood around those hungry bites.

She began to carefully run the tips of her fingers over the surface of the wood. Nothing obvious. Doane would have noticed if there was anything that would herald a weakness in this coffin in which he had stuffed her. Nothing near the bolt itself.

She slid down to her knees and began to go over the wood wall close to floor level.

Nothing.

She moved to the corner of the cabinet.

Coolness.

Air!

Her heart leaped as she felt a tiny flow of air streaming into the cupboard from the bottom-left corner. She probed, explored the area. Two inches. The wood surrounding it was brittle, jagged and pointed like little knives. She pulled her fingers back and found one of them bloody.

Fine. She’d probably get blood poisoning.

Stupid. She was worrying about blood poisoning at a time like this?

She examined the rest of the cupboard but came up with no other openings. She’d have to go with the one she’d found in the bottom corner.

How much time had passed? Not long. It only seemed like decades had gone by since she’d been stuffed in this cupboard.

She pushed against the wood at the upper edge of the hole that could eventually lead toward the bolt. It moved. She pushed again.

It splintered!

She tried to be careful as she cleared the sharp splinters away and widened the hole. Three inches wide now.

She hit the area with the handcuffs binding her wrists, and the wood moved, then splintered.

Bruises instead of cuts. She’d take it.

She’d take anything that would get her far enough up in this cupboard to release that bolt. But she had an idea that she’d have to take a hell of a lot of more punishment before she got that far. But it was working. She had a chance if Doane stayed away long enough. She wanted to hurry, to rush it, but that would be a good way to do serious damage with those sharp splinters.

She started to carefully clear away the jagged splinters from the latest hole.

Stay away, Doane.

Your vicious little rat friends have betrayed you and given me a way out.

Just give me another hour …

Rio Grande Forest

Colorado

“THE TRUCK IS GONE.” ZANDER stopped on the hill, gazing down at the coin factory. He muttered a curse. “I was hoping that they’d still be here.”

“Maybe Eve’s here.” Joe started down the hill, his gaze raking the surrounding woods for possible ambush. “She could still be inside.”

“Not likely. Doane wanted her to complete that reconstruction, and he’d be hounding her to do it.” Zander followed Qui

“You appear to have a handle on the situation between them,” Stang said. “She must have confided a good deal to you.”

“Confided?” Zander shrugged. “That’s not the word I’d use. But I studied the dynamics between them, and I can make an educated guess about action and reaction.” He called to Joe. “Check the windows and see if you spot any movement inside but don’t bust into the house. Eve said that he’d rigged gas jets in the ceiling. It’s almost certain to still be booby-trapped. Doane’s son taught him a lot about military skullduggery.”

“I wouldn’t risk Eve by doing that,” Qui

“He’s very good,” Zander murmured to Stang as his gaze followed Qui

“I’m sure he’d appreciate your approval,” Stang said. “Not.”

“He should appreciate it. It’s not lightly given.”

“You’re not going after him?”

“Why? I don’t think Doane’s here.” He grimaced. “And I have to conserve my strength. This damn arm is getting in my way.”

“Since you should have fainted by the wayside by now, I wouldn’t complain.”

“But you’re not me, are you? I’ll complain if I like.” His gaze was narrowed, circling the trees. “Interesting. This area looks amazingly similar to the photo that Jane MacGuire sent to Qui

“I’m sure you think it is.”

“But Eve Duncan would not, nor would a certain priest I met in Tibet. So who is correct?”

“You tell me.”

“Why, I am, Stang.” He smiled. “I’m always correct.”

“But you didn’t tell me which way you were leaning.”

“I didn’t, did I?” He stiffened. “Qui

Seconds later, Qui

Zander went still. “There weren’t any cameras when I was here before. Not in the trees. Not anywhere near the house.” He was beside Qui

“Who’s receiving that picture? There’s no one inside the house,” Qui

“Why bother?” Stang asked. “If he was going to take her out of the area, what would it matter?”

“What, indeed?” Zander said. “Unless, he wanted Eve to finish the reconstruction and wasn’t sure there was any danger. He’d want to set up a signal that would tell him if he should move out.” He strode away from the door and around the corner of the house and gazed at the ridge that formed the rim of the punch-bowl valley. “Are you down there, Doane?” he murmured. “Wait for me, I’m coming.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Qui