anything about him?"

"No," she answered. "I thought about asking the clerk or the manager, but then I decided to wait and talk to you first. Do you

want me to go back and find out who he is?"

"No, no, don't do that," he said. "You'd only draw attention to yourself. You're so beautiful, people will remember you… and

you do look like Avery. I'll find out who he is."

"Yes, all right. Are you ready for both of them?"

"The plan's changed."

"Oh?"

"The river store is open, and business, I'm afraid, is booming. It's been busier than a 7-Eleven since early morning."

"How can that be?" she cried. "You checked. The owner was mauled by a bear and won't get out of the hospital for at least another week. You checked," she repeated.

She was becoming upset. He hurriedly tried to quiet her fears. "It's going to be okay."

She wouldn't let it go. "But how can the store be open?"

"The owner's cousin from Arkansas opened the store this morning. The owner must have called him. It doesn't matter," he stressed. "We're simply going to plan B. You remember, I told you I always have a contingency plan in mind whenever I take

on a new assignment."

"I remember," she said, relieved. "You're so clever darling."

The least little praise made him want to please her all the more.

"Wait," she said urgently. "The package with Carrie's red scarf. Is it still there on the counter?"

"No, but that doesn't matter now," he said. He had already thought the matter through. The original plan had been to lure Avery into the store by placing a large manila envelope with her name on it on the counter by the window so she would see it when she looked inside. She would be desperate and break in. Monk would be waiting for her, and after he had killed her, he would bury her in the forest about a hundred yards behind the store. He'd already gone to the trouble of digging her grave. The hole was deep enough to accommodate her lover as well, he supposed, but now that the store was open and there was a steady stream of customers coming and going, Monk knew he couldn't kill them there.

"Do you have Carrie's wallet with you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's in my purse."

"Good," he praised. "We'll use it, then."

"Do I get to help? You promised me," she reminded him.

How could he deny her? It would have been so much easier if she'd agreed to stay at the spa and let him do his job. Jilly complicated his life, made him scramble to get everything done the way she wanted it done, but she was such a joy to be with,

he didn't mind. He had tried to talk her into blowing up the house before they left it last night, but she wouldn't

hear of it. She wanted her sister to wake up and know who was killing her and why.

Monk didn't like leaving the women, but he couldn't be in two places at once, and Avery's unexpected arrival had thrown him a curve. He hadn't let Jilly know how unsettling and worrisome those last-minute changes were, but now that he'd worked it all out in his mind, he was feeling in control again. He wished he had more time to go over the plan, but that wasn't possible.

"Darling, did you hear me? I get to help, don't I?"

He pushed his concerns aside.

"Yes, of course you can help. How would you like to talk to Avery again?"

She laughed. "Oh, I'd love to," she said. "I'm hurrying to you. I'm already turning onto that little road you found. I won't be long. When I get there, you have to tell me exactly what you want me to say to her. I don't want to mess up again like I did in Virginia when I took that old woman's car."

"Hush now. Don't fret about that. It's water under the bridge. Besides, you're a rookie," he said with a chuckle. "You were bound to make a few mistakes."

"I only wanted to please you, and I thought that, if I could immobilize her, I would make your job so much easier for you. You could have broken into her apartment and killed her there. I thought you could make it look like a robbery."

They had been over this topic at least ten times, and each time he tried to reassure her that he had forgiven her misjudgment. She never should have gone after Avery with that car, not only because of the danger to herself, but also because she very well might have killed her. Jilly had been so proud of her careful research. She'd done her own surveillance, discovered the dusty old Cadillac was owned by a woman who never drove it, and had been so clever in the way she'd gotten into the apartment and stolen the keys. She'd had fun too, dressing up as a policewoman collecting for the widows' fund.

Still, Jilly hadn't thought the plan through. When he gently pointed out that if she had killed Avery, Carrie certainly would have canceled her vacation plans, Jilly was mortified. Now she always checked with him first so that she wouldn't do anything rash.

He liked the way she looked up to him, trusted him to know what was best.

"I'll meet you at our designated spot. Now, here's what I want you to do," he began.

She listened, growing more excited as he explained the details. When he was finished, she giggled. "It's perfect, darling.

Absolutely perfect."

"His name is Dale Skarrett," Avery said, "and he's in prison now."

"Where?" John Paul asked.

"Florida," she answered. "He came up for parole a couple of years ago, and Carrie and I went to the hearing. We each spoke

to the board, and they listened to what we had to say. We're the reason he didn't get out."

"So he has a real good reason for wanting both of you dead."

"Yes."

"What'd he do?"

She hated bringing those memories back to the surface. It made the wounds fester again.

"I'll explain later," she said, buying herself time.

"What'd he do?" he calmly repeated.

She turned away from him to stare out the window. "He murdered my grandmother," she answered. She anxiously looked at the watch. "We have twenty-three minutes left to get to God only knows where. What should we be looking for?"

He knew she was trying to make him focus on the problem at hand so that he wouldn't ask her any more questions. Eventually

she would tell him what he wanted and needed to know if they were going to get through this alive, but he didn't press her now

for the grim details. Like she said, they had only twenty-three minutes to go.

"We look for anything that doesn't belong."

They were still climbing higher and higher as they wound around the mountain. Avery had lost her sense of direction, but thankfully, John Paul hadn't.

Sunlight was streaming in through the branches again, and the area wasn't quite as thick with evergreens. She thought they

were getting closer to an open area or a summit. Would they be sitting ducks?

"We're going to get nosebleeds if we keep climbing. Are you cold?" she asked.

"No."

He knew she was. He'd noticed her rubbing her arms a minute ago. He reached over and flipped on the heater. Avery immediately adjusted the vents so the hot air would blow on her arms.

"What do you think she meant?"

"What?"

"When the woman said 'boom.' I keep picturing those women tied to chairs with explosives."

"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe they're inside something that's wired."

"There are caves and old shafts around here, aren't there?"

"Yes," he said. "There are hundreds of them."

She checked the time again. "Twenty-one minutes."

"I'm aware of the time," he snapped.

"Can't you go any faster?"

"You want to drive?"

"No," she said. She realized her frustration and fear were misdirected. "Sorry, I didn't mean to criticize. I know you're doing

the best you can."

It occurred to her then that she didn't know much about the man she had so eagerly jumped into the car with. No, that wasn't