“I’m coming out of the hills now. I can see the cottage.” She said slowly, “The only answer is that she’s behind me.”

“Stay where you are. We’ll come up to—”

“No.” She pulled off the road into the trees. “There’s probably not time. And the last thing we want is for her to see you all coming after her and panic. She still has that detonator.”

“All the more reason for—”

“No, Catherine.” She hung up.

No, Catherine. I have to be the one to do it. She has to be mine.

She got out of the car and pulled out the revolver Caleb had given her at the sand dune. That seemed such a long time ago.

A lifetime ago. Trevor’s life.

She moved away from the car, so she would have a clear view of the road.

Come on, Harriet. I’m waiting for you.

She listened.

No sound.

It would come.

She would come.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three.

A sleek, powerful roar in the distance.

The Cadillac.

Closer. Closer.

Right around the bend.

She prepared herself and raised the gun.

Make it count, Joe had always said.

The Cadillac came around the bend.

Blam! Blam!

She blew out the two front tires.

The Cadillac went skittering across the road, and it was so close she could see Harriet’s strained, angry face behind the steering wheel. Then the car was down in the ditch, and Harriet was scrambling out of it.

“You took a long time to get here,” Jane called out. “That was Trevor’s fault. When he shot you, he already had three bullets in him, but he still managed to pull that trigger.” She heard Harriet cursing. “I hope he hurt you. Because I intend to hurt you, Harriet.”

A bullet struck the metal fender of the car a foot from Jane’s head.

“I told you that it was only a postponement,” Harriet said viciously. “I’m glad that you showed up so that I can put an end to you. Then I’ll go to that cottage and kill your precious Eve.” She pulled out the cell-phone detonator. “And then I’ll tend to Kevin’s last bit of business.”

Kevin’s business. A million deaths …

Death.

Trevor …

Don’t think of Trevor now. Her hand had to be steady.

She moved carefully into position.

Another bullet shattered the driver’s mirror a few feet away.

“That was close, wasn’t it? I told you I was a good shot.”

“Yes, you did, didn’t you?” Jane said. “And you are. But it won’t do you any good. You won’t kill me, and all your other plans are going to go down the tube. Doane screwed up, and Zander and Eve are free.”

Silence. “You’re lying. I talked to James not fifteen minutes ago.”

“Doane is dead.” She aimed carefully. “And so are you, Harriet.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who—” She screamed as her right hand exploded. The detonator dropped to the ground.

Jane quickly aimed again. She fired four shots in quick succession.

Harriet screamed again and bent double in the dirt.

Enough. It was done.

Jane got to her feet and slowly walked over to where Harriet lay on the ground.

Harriet was gazing dazedly up at her. “I’m going to get up in a minute. You … couldn’t have hurt … me. Not you…”

“Oh, I hurt you. You were boasting how well Kevin taught you to shoot.” She stared fiercely down at Harriet. “He taught you to kill. Joe taught me to shoot, too. I got pretty damn good. But it was to protect myself. Everyone thought that in the end I would never have the killer instinct. I didn’t think so either until I met you.”

“I’m not going to die,” Harriet said as she struggled desperately to sit up. “You’re not strong enough to kill me. I’ll find a way to survive. I always have, and I always will.”

“You’re already a dead woman. I aimed very carefully. One shot to blow your right hand off so that you wouldn’t be able to press those buttons. One shot to the other hand to get rid of your gun.” She added with cruel malice, “And three shots in your abdomen and chest, just like Trevor’s wounds. He died very quickly. Since that stump of a hand is bleeding even heavier than his wounds, you should die even sooner. No one can save you. Not your Kevin. Not Doane.”

“I’ll save myself.” A trickle of blood was running from the corner of her mouth. “Bitch. A weakling like you will never—” She trailed off as pain overcame her. “Why do you think you could ever—destroy me? You’re like those silly children Kevin had to have. Weak. Worthless…”

“I have destroyed you.”

“Liar.” Her eyes were glazing over. “James told me he thinks Kevin … is becoming part of him. I … laughed at him. Kevin wouldn’t want him. He’s not strong enough. Not like me. I’m the one Kevin always…” Her eyes were closing. “Kevin, help—me. I always—helped you. Sweet, sweet, beloved … Now you have to—help me.” She roused herself, and her words came strong and biting with venom. “Kill her!”

For an instant, Jane felt an icy chill. And then it was gone.

And so was Harriet.

Her eyes were wide-open, staring blindly up at the night sky.

Jane stood there looking down at her for another moment. No regret. No guilt. She only wished Harriet were still alive so that she could do it again.

The true killer instinct.

Eve.

Jane picked up the detonator, turned, and slowly headed down the beach road toward the cottage on the hill. She could see the lights in the cottage casting a glare over the driftwood graveyard. Then the shadowy figures that she thought were Catherine and Gallo.

And standing on the hill beside the cottage she saw Eve, with Joe beside her.

She kept her gaze fixed on Eve as she started to climb the hill. The agony and numbness were still present, but the love and warmth of all their years together was suddenly there before her, within her. All the death and sorrow surrounded her, but Eve was alive, and that was enough for right now.

Eve stepped away from Joe and held out her arms. “Jane?”

And Jane went into her arms and laid her head on her shoulder.

Are you watching, Trevor? It’s what you’d want for me.

Yesterday … Today … Tomorrow …

*   *   *

THE SUN WAS RISING IN A GLORIOUS, blinding burst of orange over the ocean, and Eve stood on the beach, lifting her face to the morning breeze.

Freedom.

It seemed so long since she had felt this sense of freedom from threat and ugliness. She had held that smothering fear at bay, but it had always been there in the background, waiting to pounce and take her down. Now she was almost afraid to lower her guard.

But if she didn’t embrace freedom, then Doane would win.

She would not let him win.

She glanced back at the hillside, which was crawling with police and forensic teams digging up those driftwood graves. They had already found one poor little victim from the directions she’d given them. They were still searching for the other child.

“You don’t have to stay here.” Joe was walking down the beach toward her. “Let the police do their work.” He slipped his arm about her waist. “I want to take you home.”

“And I want to go home.” She leaned back against him. “But I need to finish it, Joe. I can’t walk away.” She looked at Jane, who was sitting on a craggy rock down the beach. “But she shouldn’t be here. She’s hurting, Joe.” She shook her head. “And she’s changed.”

“Yes.” He brushed his lips against her temple. “And so have you.”

“What? No, I haven’t.” She frowned. “How?”

“You’re stronger. I can see it, feel it.”

She was silent. “I thought maybe I was just getting harder. I hated Doane for having the power to do that to me.”

“Not harder. It’s just that everything that’s not essentially you has been peeled away. What’s left is strong … and beautiful.”

She tried to laugh. “You’re prejudiced, Joe.”

“I’ve studied every nuance and quality that makes you who you are. No one is a better judge.” He suddenly whirled her around in his arms and buried his face in her hair. “And I love every single bit of who you are.” His voice was hoarse with feeling. “God, I’m glad to have you back. I was going crazy.”