“Yes, I’ve watched with fascination you trying to pull all those strings. Don’t try that with me. I’m no puppet.”

“Neither are Joe or Gallo. And Jane MacGuire is a tough cookie. We’re all just people trying to work together to keep Eve alive. If I seem to be making the effort to coordinate what’s going on, it’s because it’s so damn difficult to work through this web that Doane and his son wove years ago.” She added soberly, “And according to what Jane is telling me, Doane may not even be as terrible as his ex-wife. I told you what Harriet Weber said to Doane about not giving him the location of those nukes until he’d set you up for execution.”

“Yes, charming lady.”

“A beast, like her son, like Doane.”

“But with excellent taste in executions. She chooses the very best.”

“It’s not funny.” She shook her head. “I care about this, Zander. I care about Eve. I care about those millions of people who may die if we can’t stop Doane and that bitch from pressing that switch. Help me, dammit.”

He was silent. “No, it’s not funny. But I have problems with caring. I … think I may envy you. So much passion…”

“Help me.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” She moistened her lips. “Venable says you’re a brilliant man. Figure some way out of this nightmare. Look, there are two objectives tied in a Gordian knot. It would be easier if we only had to worry about Eve. But there are those two nuclear devices.” She held up her index finger. “Chicago. Jane, Trevor, and Caleb will have to find them and try to disarm them. Harriet Weber is in contact with Doane, and she may be the key to finding him. She’s also the one who knows where those bombs are located and can ignite them.”

“Kill her,” Zander said coolly.

“And risk having Doane killing Eve because he would have no chance to give his son his grand funeral pyre?”

“Killing her would be Venable’s decision.”

“Not mine. I want it all. I want Eve alive.” She held up another finger. “Seattle. Find the bomb stashed here. Find Doane and save Eve. Much less complicated than Chicago.”

“You’re being simplistic. It all relies on finding Doane.”

“And it’s all linked to Harriet Weber.” She met his gaze. “That’s why I can’t pull any strings. I have to depend on other people who care about Eve.” She paused. “Like you, Zander.”

“I told you, I have problems in that area.”

“I don’t give a damn. Work your way through it. This is scary stuff, and I need a partner. You won’t let me bring in Joe or Gallo. So you’re stuck with me.”

“Am I?”

“Are you?” she whispered. “Say yes, Zander.”

His gaze held her own for a long moment. “What a Delilah you are, even when that’s not your intention. Yet you’re not really a Delilah, more like a woman from an Ayn Rand novel. I’m beginning to pity Gallo.”

“Say yes.”

He looked away from her. “Again, too simplistic. I’ll consider your proposition and see if it suits my purpose.” He leaned forward and told Stang. “Find a hotel. I need to have a meal and make a few phone calls.”

Catherine was surprised. “So soon? You only contacted one person, that Monte Slater. And you said he didn’t know anything. Maybe you should try someone else.”

“Slater has a pipeline to everything that goes on in Seattle. He’s expert at information gathering. If he doesn’t have a line on Doane, no one does. He’ll call me if he hears anything.”

“There may be someone better. You should go out on the streets and find them yourself,” she said. “Or let me go. I don’t know the city, but I know how to dig. Before I was recruited for the CIA, I made my living in Hong Kong selling information.”

“So I heard,” Zander said. “I’m sure you were extraordinary.”

She shrugged. “I was hungry. That’s who we need now. Someone who is hungry. Tell Stang to pull over and let me out. Give me my chance to find Doane.”

“Zander?” Stang asked, his gaze on the rearview mirror.

“I think not,” Zander said. “We’ll do it my way. The hotel, Stang. I wouldn’t dream of throwing Catherine out in the streets to face who knows what criminal elements.” He smiled faintly. “She might offer to act as their bodyguard.” He glanced at Catherine. “Besides, our guest needs to rest, but she won’t do it. She’ll probably spend her time investigating the area’s driftwood. Right, Catherine?”

She didn’t answer the question but looked away from him and out the window. “Say yes, Zander.”

Chicago

THE FIRST PALE STREAKS of dawn were creeping over the horizon when Margaret’s bus entered the city. Time to announce her arrival and find out where in this huge city she could find Jane, Margaret thought. She pulled out her phone and started to call Jane. Then she stopped as she glanced at the sunrise. Why wake Jane at this hour? She needed all the rest she could get. No, she could get the information from Caleb or Trevor, and she didn’t give a damn at the moment if she woke either one of them. They were both definitely in her bad graces.

She dialed Seth Caleb. “I’ve reached Chicago. Would you like to tell me where to find Jane, or do you still want to play games?”

“You’re the one who extended the play by becoming incommunicado. You know Jane would have made sure that you’d be brought here safely.”

“I had to make a point so that you wouldn’t be so stupid again.”

“Point taken,” he said dryly. “Why are you calling me instead of Jane?”

“She’s not well. I didn’t want to disturb her.”

Silence. “She’s much better now. And I, for one, wouldn’t mind if you disturbed her.”

The words were spoken without expression. Yet Margaret could sense the darkness. “I don’t go by what you mind or don’t mind, Caleb.” She paused. “But if Jane is having problems with you, I’d better know about it. Where are you?”

“Lakeside Marriott. Room 1730.”

“And Jane?”

“I didn’t ask her. Somewhere on this floor. You’ll have to find her yourself.”

Something was definitely not right. “I told you, I don’t want to wake her. I’ll come to your room.” She hung up.

She stared thoughtfully out the window. Storm clouds and an explosion on the brink. What had been happening in these last hours? Well, she would know soon. At least, he had said that Jane was better. Which might be the cause of those storm clouds. It was just as well Margaret was on the scene to act as buffer.

Lakeside Marriott. She got to her feet and weaved her way down the aisle to talk to the bus driver. His name was Harry Milton and after hours of casual conversation he probably liked her well enough to do her a favor. If she handled it right.

“Hi, Harry.” She beamed at him. “Do you know where the Lakeside Marriott is? Do you suppose it’s too far out of your way?”

CHAPTER

13

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Margaret was knocking on the door of Room 1730.

Caleb opened the door. “That was quick.”

“The bus driver dropped me off.” She strolled into the room. “I didn’t want to waste time getting transportation from the bus station. You have to catch me up with what’s been happening since you arrived here.” She dropped down in a chair by the balcony doors. “First, Harriet Weber. Anything?”

“A telephone call from Doane.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“I thought that would make you sit up and take notice.” He sat down opposite her. “And it was something of a role reversal from what Venable thought.”

“Tell me.”

She listened closely as he described in detail the conversation between Doane and his ex-wife.

“Holy shit.” She shook her head. “Yeah, I can see the role reversal. She’s seems very dangerous. Sort of a black widow devouring her mates.”

“Trust you to compare her to one of your nature friends,” Caleb said. “Personally, I see Harriet as very human, with abundant Borgia qualities.”