But her behavior had been unexpected from the beginning.

And rather than distract Luke, or rattle him with the unexpected presence of a discarded lover, she seemed rather to have insinuated herself both into the investigation-and back into Luke's bed.

And instead of being the distraction he had planned her to be, it appeared that she was actually helping Luke.

He didn't understand that. He understood how pain and fear could-for want of a better phrase-call out to anyone with the right makeup to be able to hear: the simple electromagnetic energy of emotions and thoughts alive in the very air around him made perfect sense to him. It was an ability he understood, not so much paranormal as it was a sharply enhanced extension of otherwise normal senses.

He even understood, because he had made it his business to, how and why Luke's ability was a difficult one for the man to control at all, far less master. And why it drained him physically, exhausted him.

It's what he had wanted, a man driven past his limits and emptied of everything but the memories of the pain and suffering of the victims he had not found in time, and the unbearable knowledge that he had failed.

A broken man.

A man who understood, at last, why he had been judged and was being punished.

Instead, the man he had watched enter the sheriff's department after a successful search and rescue of Wyatt Metcalf had not seemed at all exhausted, and certainly wasn't broken.

For a long time after the small search team had disappeared from view, he remained where he was, still. Even the media had dispersed by the time he reached into his inner coat pocket and drew out a plastic Baggie containing an envelope. Inside the envelope was the note he had written to Luke, telling him where he could find the sheriff's body.

He took the envelope out of the bag and methodically, viciously, tore it into small pieces.

"Think you've won, Luke?" he muttered. "Wait. Just wait."

"I've put in a request for an agent to talk to the first kidnapping victim," Lucas said. "But I don't expect to get much if anything beyond her original statement. She told us what she knew and then pretty much asked us to leave her alone. Understandably, she's kept a low profile in the last year and a half, and I very much doubt she'd be willing to come down here to talk to us."

"Not with him here," Samantha murmured. "And who could blame her."

Lucas nodded but didn't look at her, and Caitlin wondered at the other woman's twisted smile. They had an odd relationship, those two, she decided. So solidly a team during the search for Wyatt, they were now, she thought, separated by much more than the length of the conference table.

"I don't know if she can tell us anything we don't already know," Lucas went on. "But she is the only one he released unharmed."

"And I'm the only one he's lost-so far," Wyatt said. He frowned and looked at Samantha. "You really think the fact that he didn't talk to me might mean something?" He was making a determined effort to at least pretend that he'd emerged from his ordeal unscathed, and everyone around him was playing along-for which he was grateful.

She shrugged. "Just struck me, is all. He's picked Golden as his last stand, apparently, and he clearly knows the area. That means he had to spend some time here before now. If he didn't talk to you, then maybe it's because he was afraid you might recognize his voice."

"But he left me for dead."

"Yeah, but even with all his confidence, he had to know there was at least a chance you'd be found in time. And if we know anything about him, it's that he's careful."

"I've lived here all my life," Wyatt told her, "and I've met a lot af people. Talked to a lot. Residents, tourists, people just passing through. If we can't narrow it down more than that, there isn't a:hance in hell I'll be able to figure out who he is."

Lucas said, "It's a point to keep in mind, but with, as you say, no way to narrow it down, not very helpful at the moment. What baffles me is how he's managing to get in and out of these remote places, machinery or parts to build it in tow, without leaving much if any evidence."

"Maybe he has wings," Wyatt grunted, just about half serious.

Jaylene spoke up to offer, "Or a hell of an ATV. And something that big and rugged gets noticed, even in these mountains."

"I didn't see any tracks near the mouth of the mine," Lucas told tier. "Maybe we '11 find something tomorrow morning, but if it's the same as at every other crime scene…" He shook his head, adding, "And why weren't mines on our search list? Especially after Lindsay was found at one."

Wyatt shrugged. "Because none of them are marked on any of aur maps, probably. Haven't been for decades. Virtually all the old mines in this county have been closed for so long that most of us tiave forgotten about them.

"Thing is, people have been digging in these mountains for generations. Gold, emeralds, whatever else there is or was. Lot of defunct mines up there that companies shut down when the veins petered out. And that's not even counting amateur efforts or natural caverns. Plus old cellars and other shelters hacked out of the granite during the last century or two and left abandoned. A big part of this county is federal land now, but it wasn't always."

"In other words," Lucas said grimly, "we've got a wilderness full of countless places where he could hold a hostage."

Wyatt lifted his brows slightly. "I take it you expect him to grab somebody else?"

"Until we've got our hands on him, it's a given."

The sheriff sighed. "Great. Well, what you said pretty much sums it up. Hell of a lot of land and not many ways of narrowing down the list of places to search. We might be able to find out who owns various remote parcels, but there's nothing to say he's even tied to them in any legal sense. From what we've seen so far, it looks like he's just taking advantage of places nobody's made use of in so many years most of us have forgotten there was anything useful there."

"Which," Caitlin said, "is another point in favor of what Sam said. That he's been here long enough to know the area very, very well."

Wyatt frowned very slightly as he looked at her. "Not that I'm complaining, but are you sure you want to stay involved in all this?"

A bit self-conscious, she shrugged. "Might as well. I mean, if it's okay with you. I don't know that I can help, but it sure beats hours alone in that motel room."

Jaylene spoke up again to say, "Ask me, we can use all the help we can get. But I vote we start fresh tomorrow morning. It's been a very long day."

"I'll second that," Wyatt said. "Not that I plan to go home tonight, but the couch in my office is very comfortable, and it won't be the first time I've slept there."

None of the others probed for his reasons, simply accepting that a man who had faced his own death a few hours previously might not want to return to an empty apartment and spend the night alone. Better here, with people about and the pulse of life going on all night.

After a quick glance at her partner, Jaylene said to Caitlin, "I'll take you back to the motel. Maybe we can stop on the way and have dinner somewhere."

Caitlin nodded, but said to Lucas, "Am I still being guarded?"

He nodded immediately. "I think you should be, Caitlin. If he's been watching, he knows you're involved now."

Unnerved, she said, "You think he's been watching us? You mean-today?"

"I'd be surprised if he wasn't somewhere nearby when the search teams returned. He'd have wanted firsthand confirmation of just how successful this move was."

"But, still, why would he target me?" she demanded.

Samantha said, "I'm betting you're an unknown factor to him, and that's got to make him uneasy. He'd expect the cops and feds to be involved in a search, and he already knows about me, but you? Not only a civilian, but the grieving sister of a previous victim, so what are you doing with a search team?"