Yeah, right. She put her forefinger and her thumb up in front of his eyes about a half-inch apart and said, "I'm this close to really hating you."

She'd used just the right amount of anger in her voice. She nodded too, just to let him know she meant every word.

He wasn't impressed or intimidated. He simply closed his eyes and lazily said, "I can live with that."

"We go through the wall." Anne made the announcement and then waited for the women's reaction to her suggestion.

Sara looked incredulous; Carrie looked irritated.

"Yeah, right," Carrie muttered. "I'll use my superhuman karate kicks and my X-ray vision…"

"Now, Carrie, let's hear what Anne has to say," Sara chided.

"I'm telling you, it could work. When I got out of the car, I walked over to the stone wall and looked down. The mountain slopes

on this side of the house. It's not a sheer drop like it is outside the living room windows."

"Go on," Sara urged.

"I also noticed the sides of the house are cedar boards, not stone like the front," she said. "There's an outside wall in the pantry that's just on the other side of the stone wall. I suggest we punch a big hole in the Sheetrock near the floor, so that when we do kick the cedar boards out, we won't be seen from the front."

"But Anne, there's more than just Sheetrock and cedar boards," Sara said.

"I know exactly what's between those walls," she boasted. "There's insulation, but that won't be difficult to tear out, and maybe wiring too, which we could work around, and a layer of sheathing…"

"And what else?" Sara asked. She leaned forward while she considered Anne's idea.

"Two-by-fours," Anne said. "Studs are usually about sixteen inches apart. We should all be able to squeeze through."

"How do we make a hole in the Sheetrock? With our fists?"

"We use the poker from the fireplace," Anne said. "And knives to widen the hole. I took inventory, and the kitchen knives are

still in the drawers. If we started now, who knows? We might be out of here by morning."

"Time's running out," Carrie said. "I say we try to break a window and hope we don't…" She stopped when Sara shook her head.

"Too risky," Sara said. "I say we go with Anne's plan."

"What about the cedar boards?"

"It won't be as difficult as you think," Anne said. "They're nailed in, but if we hit them hard enough or kick them, they'll

eventually pop right out."

"My goodness, we've got a plan," Sara said. She slapped her hand on the table and smiled. "I'm sure we won't be able to find

any rope to use to climb down, but wouldn't sheets work?"

"In the movies, they always use sheets to get out," Carrie said.

"Really?" Anne asked.

Carrie nodded. "You honestly don't watch television, do you?"

Anne shook her head. "I could work on the sheets. Maybe instead of tying knots, I could figure out a way to braid them together… or something."

"That's good," Sara said. "While you're doing that, Carrie and I will work on the wall. Anne, you're brilliant. I never would have thought to go out through a wall. I think this is doable."

"We have to leave during the night," Carrie said. "I don't relish the idea of tromping through the wilderness in the dark, but if we make our way downhill until we estimate we're past the fence, then we could get to the road and follow it back to town."

She'd made it all sound easy. Was she being naive, or could it be that simple?

"We should probably take a couple of sharp knives with us," Sara suggested. "Just in case we run into any wild animals."

"Or Monk," Carrie said. She shivered then. "I think I'd prefer fighting off a wild animal than running into him. Do you know…" She suddenly stopped, embarrassed at what she had almost confessed.

"What?" Sara asked.

"You'll think I'm gross, but I thought he was handsome. "

Sara snorted with laughter. "I did too. I loved his accent. Do you think it was real?"

"I thought so," Carrie said. "I thought he was sexy."

Anne had been listening quietly to the conversation until Carrie made that comment. She couldn't keep silent any longer; her disapproval was evident. "Shame on you, Carrie. You're a married woman."

Carrie defended herself. "I'm married, yes, but I'm not blind, and there isn't anything wrong with appreciating a great-looking

man. Surely you've-"

Anne cut her off. "Absolutely not," she insisted. "I would never insult my Eric by lusting after another man."

"Did I say I lusted after him?"

"Will you stop bickering," Sara begged. "You make me want to open a door."

John Paul retrieved the watch then hiked over twelve miles. He made a wide circle around the perimeter of the

location marked on the map looking for signs-anything out of the ordinary, like a sniper hunkered down in the scrub. When he was satisfied he was alone, he planted the watch and backtracked four miles to Coward's Crossing.

There wasn't any doubt about being in the right place. There was a crude hand-painted sign nailed to a stake that had recently been pounded into the ground. The white paint with the words "Coward's Crossing" wasn't weathered and, therefore, couldn't have been more than a couple of days old. The arrow on top of the sign pointed to a boarded-up, abandoned mine shaft. There was a woman's bright red silk scarf nailed to another board above the entrance.

Dawn had arrived, and the mist was being burned by the rising sun. John Paul was safely concealed by the trees and bushes. From where he was positioned, he could see the entrance to the shaft. He didn't relish the idea of climbing down inside. Were

the women there? Doubtful, he thought. Monk wouldn't have kidnapped them and then given Avery a map showing their location.

No, Monk was isolating his prey. No doubt about that.

When would he take his shot? Maybe he thought they would want to go into the shaft. How had Monk planned to kill them? Explosives, he guessed. Yeah, that's what Monk would do. Clean and neat, an underground explosion no one would hear, and

he wouldn't have to worry about burying what was left of their bodies.

Come on, John Paul urged. Show yourself. There was a good thirty yards of open space between the cover of the trees and the shaft. Check it out, Monk. Let me get one clear shot. He would try to immobilize him so he could question him and, hopefully,

find out where the women were.

Someone was out there. The silence in the woods confirmed it. No birds singing, no squirrels scurrying about as they foraged for food. Nothing but the wind whistling a forlorn melody through the branches and an occasional rumble of thunder in the distance.

John Paul was patient. He could wait it out for as long as he needed. But what about Avery? How long would she sleep? And when she woke up and found him gone, would she try to come after him? The possibility sent chills down his back. He pictured her walking into a trap and had to force himself to block the image of her being gunned down.

He thought he heard something and tilted his head, straining to listen. The sound didn't come again.

What was Avery doing now? Was she still asleep? He'd left her snug as a bug in his sleeping bag with the gun next to her.

Damn, he'd hated leaving her. Knock it off, he told himself. She's fine. The car's well hidden and over ten miles away. Yeah,

she was okay. Ah, hell, try as he did, he couldn't convince himself.

How in God's name had she worked her way under his skin so quickly? And what the hell was the matter with him to be

attracted to her? She was a damn liberal, he reminded himself, one of those "Let's save the world" types. Worse, she was a