“Tell that to the people in those cities that are going to be blown into the stratosphere. Tell them that Kevin has no power. Tell that to Zander at the moment that I kill him.” He gazed lovingly at the reconstruction. “She brought you back again, Kevin. I made her do it, just as you said I should.”

“Excuse me, your raving is making me ill.” She got to her feet. “And I have to go to the bathroom and wash this clay off my hands.” She picked up the hand towel she’d been using to wipe her hands and carried it toward the bathroom. Just as she opened the bathroom door, she deliberately dropped the towel and knelt to pick it up. From her position, she could see underneath the table to where she’d stuck the clay.

Damn, it was hanging precariously by one end of the piece of clay.

Maybe it would hold.

She snatched the towel up and slammed the bathroom door behind her. She quickly washed her hands of the clay, and then washed her face.

“Hurry up. You’re wasting time. We’re leaving.”

She opened the door.

Doane was at the table, almost directly in front of the place where she’d stuck the clay. He seemed to be cleaning the surface of clay traces and all her work debris.

She stiffened in panic, then tried to hide the reaction. “What are you doing? I’ve never noticed you being particularly fussy about housekeeping before, Doane.”

“You’re messy as hell, and you leave very distinctive evidences of your occupation that are peculiarly your own.”

“Only if you’re on the lookout for a forensic sculptor. Let’s face it, it’s not the most popular profession in the world. And you keep bragging that everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“And that’s the way I want to keep it. I don’t want any questions popping up that might lead anyone to study that explosion at the ghost town more closely. This is what my Kevin would do.” He carefully placed the reconstruction in its leather container, which was much worse for wear from water damage. He glanced at her impatiently. “What are you doing just standing there looking at me?”

I’m hoping you won’t try to pick up any debris that might have fallen on the floor.

I’m hoping that the clay piece under the table will stay fixed.

“What am I supposed to be doing? You tell me that you give the orders.”

“Throw the clothes I bought you into that cloth grocery bag.” He looked at her critically. “And put on a clean shirt. It’s all stained by that clay, and I don’t want you to attract attention.”

“As you command. I promise I’ll do you proud, Doane.” She grabbed one of the cheap white tunic shirts Doane had bought at Walmart and ducked back into the bathroom.

Quick.

Don’t give him a chance to spend more time cleaning that table.

And the soiled shirt? Use it.

She changed the shirt in a matter of seconds and came back into the room. She carried the stained shirt to her bed and packed it into the cloth grocery bag, making sure that a few scraps of dried clay dropped from the shirt onto the bed. She casually pulled the sheet over the clay as she put the grocery bag on the floor. “Anything else?”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re being very accommodating.”

“I want out of here. I’m sick of being so close to you.” She smiled. “And I want my chance to get away from you. Once we’re on the road, I’ll have that chance. I did it once. I can do it again.”

“The hell you can. Do you think that I didn’t make plans to make sure you didn’t slip away from me? The only way you’ll get away is when you’re dead.” He grabbed the reconstruction container, took her arm, and pushed her toward the door. “And then Kevin will have you. He’s been waiting for you. He doesn’t like it that you’ve been keeping him from the little girl.”

It wasn’t the first time that Doane had mentioned that ugliness about Kevin trying to get to Bonnie and that Eve’s connection to her was preventing it. True or false, it struck terror in Eve. She might deny Kevin’s existence as an entity to Doane, but she had doubts. If there were special creatures of love like Bonnie on the other side, might there not also be demons? What did Eve know? All she knew was that by some special grace, she had been given the chance to keep her Bonnie with her even after she had passed on, and her daughter must be protected. “Your Kevin will wait a long time,” she said. “Bonnie is stronger than he will ever be.”

He muttered a curse as he slammed the door of the motel behind them. “Get in the car.” He opened the passenger door and shoved her into the vehicle. He cuffed her right wrist to the seat belt. “No screams, or I’ll gag you.”

“That would look very weird to any bystander.”

“Not if I tie you up on the floorboard. You’d be very uncomfortable, I promise you.” He started the Toyota. “Though the drive won’t be as long as I’d like it to be.”

She glanced at the door of the motel as the car pulled out on the road. Doane hadn’t found the clay message.

Safe.

Not safe. That bit of clay could be found by a maid cleaning up the room and tossed out.

It was the best she could do.

She could only trust that Joe and Jane might be close enough on her trail that they would find the motel.

And then they would have to find that message written in clay that she had so carefully hidden, she thought in discouragement. She wasn’t expecting much, was she?

Not expecting, hoping, praying. It was a very slim chance but the only one she had.

“You’re very quiet,” Doane said. “I guess you don’t want to be gagged. I’m glad you’re being smart.”

She would have to be smart, she thought. She could rely only on herself as she had done in the mountains. She glanced around, trying to see some avenue for escape.

They were on the outskirts of Casper, and there were very few buildings around except the motel.

A tire shop directly across the road.

A strip mall a mile distant.

Police? State troopers?

No. None in sight.

Oh, for a Dunkin’ Donuts.

Joe would not be pleased she’d had that thought. That old, stale joke always irritated him when he knew how hard policemen worked.

Forgive me, Joe.

Lord, she missed him.

She leaned back on the seat and closed her eyes for a moment. I’m so tired of this, Joe. I want to see you, touch you. I want this to be over. Let it just be a bad dream.

She opened her eyes to see Doane in the seat next to her, the passing stream of traffic and the knowledge that the nightmare continued. All exactly the same, she thought dully.

No, not quite.

She heard the throb of the rotors of a helicopter in the distance. Then saw the silver blur of metal on the horizon.

But that was the only thing that had changed in that brief moment of poignant wistfulness, and it had nothing to do with wishes coming true.

She had to make her own wishes come true and fight her own nightmares.

She straightened on the seat and turned to Doane. “So what’s the next step? Where are we going now?”

*   *   *

“CASPER IS ABOUT FIVE MINUTES away,” Catherine said to Zander as she studied the map on her lap. “And that Starlite Motel should be right there.” Her finger tapped a building. “Have the pilot land somewhere nearby but not obvious enough to cause too much attention. Maybe in those hills over there.”

“It’s difficult not having a helicopter landing cause attention,” Zander said dryly.

“That’s why I said to try those hills.”

“Any other orders?” Zander asked silkily.

“No,” she said quietly. “Because you’re obviously the dominant type who objects to not being in charge. I know you’re in charge. I just have a problem with it when I know I’m just as competent as you are.” She took out her phone. “Now I’m going to call the desk at that motel and see if anyone of Doane’s description is registered and in what room. You do whatever you like about the landing. But please remember we’ll need a car to get to the motel once we land.”