On the third try, the engine started, and as they sped away Jayne turned to look over her shoulder at the lifeless bundle on the snow, the dark stain of blood spreading beneath it. Then she started to shake. She’d just shot the most dangerous animal in the woods. It could have slaughtered them both, but it was a pussycat compared to the man who was stalking the halls of Deer Creek Condos.

Walker stared out the window, searching for movement in the shadows outside the building. Where the hell was Ellen? He’d rushed up here, hoping to find her before she could do any damage, but the spa was deserted.

He glanced out at the thermometer. Thirty degrees outside and the way the wind was howling past the windows, he was sure she hadn’t gone out for a walk. That meant she was still in the building, but where? She’d taken his forty-five when she’d left and that meant she’d put the pieces together. He had to stop her before she alerted the others or all hell would break loose.

He turned and headed for the stairwell. Even though he had a master key, it would be a waste of time to check out every apartment in the building. Ellen was holed up somewhere, and she’d kill him with his own forty-five rather than turn it over to him. She had courage, a trait he admired, but right now he wished she were a shrinking violet. He loved her, no doubt about that, but he’d been a fool to let down his guard. And while he wasn’t the first to be taken in by a woman, he sure as hell wasn’t going to roll over without a good fight.

Walker was frowning as he pushed open the door to the sixth floor. There was only one way to locate Ellen. He’d find her with Jack’s closed-circuit system and pin her down. There would be time for explanations later, but first he had to get his weapon back one way or the other.

Ellen put her arms around Betty as they watched Marc on the monitor. He’d taken his rifle from the case, an ugly-looking object that reminded Ellen of the ones she’d seen on movie posters, and now he was filling his pockets with clips of ammunition. She didn’t blame Betty for being frightened. She was frightened, too. Why did he have to take so much ammunition if he was just going to find Walker and tie him up?

“It’s all right, Betty.” Ellen tried to calm the poor dear, who was trembling so hard, her teeth were chattering.

“No!” Betty started to cry. “Nice man!”

Ellen patted her shoulder. “Of course he is. Marc is going to help us.”

“He’s got his parka and gloves.” Moira kept them posted. “He must think Walker’s outside. He’d better change his shoes, though. Those sure won’t make it in the snow.”

Grace swiveled around to look at the screen. “Oh, my God! I saw the killer’s feet, down in the menagerie and . . .”

There was a sound of a key in the lock and Moira switched cameras. “It’s Walker! And he’s got a key!”

Ellen’s hands were trembling as she picked up the antique rifle Grace had brought. There was no other choice.

“No!” Grace shouted, whirling toward Ellen, but Betty was faster. Her arm shot out, knocking the gun from Ellen’s hands.

“Killer Marc!” Betty insisted. “Walker is nice.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Grace hurried to unlock the dead bolt. “I saw the killer’s shoes and . . . and Marc’s wearing them!”

“Oh, Walker!” Ellen hurled herself in his arms. “I thought you were the killer and I almost . . .” She stopped and swallowed hard, unable to speak the words aloud.

“I figured you’d try to kill me.” Walker grinned down at her. “But I also figured you’d miss. Where did you get that antique? And where’s my forty-five?”

They all spoke at once, trying to explain, but Walker caught enough to understand. Although Johnny’s musical message had been accurate, they’d misinterpreted its meaning. Watch out Marc had been a warning for them, not him.

“Ellen? See if you can find coats and boots, everything we need for the outside. Stuff it all in one bag. Grace, you help Betty get dressed into something warm. Keep Marc on that monitor, Moira. Don’t take your eyes off him and holler for me when he makes a move for the door.”

“You’d better take this.” Grace handed the Springfield to Walker proudly. “I went all the way down to the menagerie to get it and here’s the box of bullets. Marc really blew it by leaving it here.”

As Walker looked over the munitions Grace had risked her life for, a quizzical expression came over his face. “Isn’t it any good?” Grace asked.

“It’s a good rifle, but those are dummy rounds. It makes a great club, though.” Walker hefted the Springfield. “Don’t feel bad, Grace. It’s more than we had before.”

“I’ve got this, too.” Grace handed him the fur-wrapped bundle. “It’s just a big ice pick without a handle, but it looked plenty dangerous. Can you use it?”

Walker grinned as he unwrapped it. “Watch this, Grace.” He butted the ice pick up against the end of the rifle and twisted. There was a click as it locked into place. “It’s a bayonet, a real pig-sticker. It’s the perfect thing for hand-to-hand combat.”

Grace beamed. She’d gotten something useful, after all. But even without it, the trip hadn’t been wasted: she’d never be afraid of the panther or the Kodiak bear again. She turned to find Betty smiling up at her. “Sweatsuit in closet. Help me, Grace?”

“Of course I will!” Grace could hardly believe her ears. It was the first time Betty had remembered her name. As she hurried off to get the sweatsuit, she thanked God this was one of Betty’s good periods. They were going to need all the help they could get.

Ellen was stuffing the last coat in a duffel bag when Walker joined her. “Anything for me?”

She nodded and handed him a bright pink jacket. “I think it was the nurse’s, but it’s the only thing that’s close to your size.”

“Not my best color, but I’ll take it.” Walker slung the jacket over his shoulder and picked up the duffel bag. “Think carefully, Ellen. Did you tell Marc that Jayne and Paul left on the snowmobile?”

Ellen frowned as she tried to remember, then shook her head. “No, I’m almost positive I didn’t.”

“Good. He doesn’t realize the clock is ticking, and that’s a big break for us.”

Ellen put her hand on his arm. “Walker? Who are you?”

“Later, Ellen. I work for the good guys. Will that do for now?”

Ellen nodded. “Do you really know Jack, or was that just a part of your cover?”

“Jack’s a friend. He called me in when he tumbled onto Johnny’s cocaine pipeline. That’s all I can tell you, Ellen, except that I’m retiring right after this one. Is the job as your business manager still open?”

“Oh, yes.” Ellen smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t want anyone but you.”

Just then, before either of them could say another word, Moira called out. Marc was heading for the door.

“Jayne, honey. We’re here!”

Jayne opened her eyes and nodded. Her teeth were chattering so loudly, she hadn’t even realized the sound of the motor had stopped. She half-fell from the seat and steadied herself on legs that felt like frozen poles of ice.

“Hurry, get inside. I will start the heater.”

Paul helped her up into Grace’s truck and started the motor. Its shelter seemed warm, and soon heat would be coming from the vents.

It took her at least five minutes before she could stop trembling enough to speak. “How long did it take us?”

“Less than an hour. We made good speed.”

Jayne nodded. They’d made excellent time, despite switching the gas tank and killing the black bear. It would take another fifteen minutes to reach the police station. Then, if everything went like clockwork, it might be no more than forty-five minutes before the police chopper reached Deer Creek Condos. Jayne shut her eyes in a fervent prayer.