“That would be awkward for me.”

“Screw you. I don’t like where this is going. I’m not going to let Eve be sacrificed because of you. I won’t do it for you, and I won’t do it for General Tarther, whom I like as much as I dislike you.” He paused. “You were right. Doane had everything planned out step by step, and he has to think that she can lead him to you.”

“I could avoid him if I chose.”

“And he could kill her.”

“But that’s your problem.”

“No, it’s yours, dammit.” He drew a deep breath. “You’re so sure that you could go after Doane and take him out if you decide to do it. If you can find Doane, you can find her.”

“But if I did, I’d be playing into his hands. I won’t do that, Venable.”

“Why? Would it prove you’re not a complete—”

“Our conversation is finished. You’ve told me what you wanted to say. I really don’t know why you felt obligated to tell me you were going to break your promise. No one keeps their word these days.”

“I do. And if I locate Eve in the next few hours, I’ll still keep it. I owed you and General Tarther a warning in case that doesn’t happen.” He hung up.

And the odds were that they wouldn’t find her, he thought. The satellite GPS trace had come back with nothing. The agents he had searching the house in Goldfork had been stymied, too.

Which meant that he’d have to betray Zander.

And Zander wasn’t a man it was safe to betray.

He went out on the porch and watched as Joe came back down the road from the place where the forensic team was checking the shrubbery for trace evidence and possible DNA. Joe was hanging up his phone as he came even with the cottage. “Jane just arrived in Atlanta. I’m going to meet her at the hospital in Rome.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I don’t want to see you again until I hear what I want to hear from you,” he said coldly. “I’m afraid I’ll break your neck before I choke it out of you.”

“Just inquiring. The last I heard, you didn’t want me out of your sight.”

“If you disappear, I’ll find you.”

“I won’t disappear,” Venable said quietly. “Not until after we find Eve. I promise you.”

Joe gazed at him a moment. “Are you weakening, Venable?”

Venable didn’t reply directly. “Maybe. I’m not going to let anything happen to Eve. Since she’s going to do that reconstruction, she has time. We have time, Joe.”

“If I didn’t believe that, you’d be in an even tighter spot than you are now.” Joe got into the car. “I’ll find out who took Eve by Jane’s doing this sketch. But it will take time to identify him by going through data bases. I’m not going to take that time. Once I have a sketch, you’re going to tell me who he is and how to get to him.”

“If I knew how to get the man who took Eve, I would have already done it,” he said wearily. “Bring me the sketch, and we’ll talk.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Yes.” He turned back to go into the house. “It’s all I can offer you right now, dammit.”

*   *   *

THE TINY METAL JET INTHE sunken socket above Eve’s bed gleamed in the darkness.

She was exhausted after hours of work on the reconstruction, but she was too on edge to sleep. She had been lying on this cot for the last thirty minutes and gazing up at that gas jet.

So clever. Doane had boasted of his skill at planning, and this silent threat certainly added weight to his claim. It kept her immobile but still allowed him to use her skills. It was infuriating and damn frustrating and totally—

She suddenly straightened on the cot. But maybe not foolproof. Maybe she could beat it.

I was able to become accustomed to the gas by gradually exposing myself to the fumes.

If Doane had been able to do that, she might be able to do the same thing. She wouldn’t be able to become totally immune, but perhaps she could make herself less sensitive to the gas.

If the gas could be triggered by hand at the source in each of those sockets. If she could find a way to get up to the socket, which must be ten feet above the cot. If she could control the flow to give her a whiff without completely knocking her out.

Lots of ifs.

Hell, she didn’t have a better plan, did she? It was the one way that she had a chance of escaping. It was the only way she would be on partially even terms with Doane.

Move. Try.

She listened for Doane. He was sleeping on the couch in the living area. As he’d told her, these walls were paper-thin, and she could hear everything that was happening beyond them.

And now she could hear the steady sound of his breathing. He had claimed to be a light sleeper, but he was asleep now. If she was quiet, she might keep him that way.

She slid off the cot, and her bare feet touched the floor.

Don’t squeak, she prayed. Please don’t squeak.

She stood there looking up at the ceiling. It was at least ten feet above her. How could she reach it?

Stand on the cot?

Not high enough.

Or was it? The cot was one of those rollaway wire beds that folded up to store. If she folded it up, then climbed on top, it would give her at least another three feet.

No squeaks …

Her heart was beating hard as she slowly, carefully folded up the cot. She pushed it against the wall, then propped the nightstand against it to steady it. The next minute she was climbing up on the folded edge.

Slowly.

Painstakingly silent.

With utmost care.

The socket was right above her now.

Press on the side?

No, there was a closure in the center that she could unscrew. There might be some gas trapped in the line that she could release.

Open it just a little …

Carnations.

She jerked her hand back. Then she hurriedly screwed the closure shut again.

Her head was spinning.

Too much.

Get down.

No noise.

No noise.

She was off the bed.

On the floor.

Curled up in a ball.

Sick … Doane hadn’t told her it made you sick.

Had he heard her?

He hadn’t come running. She might be safe.

Carnations.

Dizzy … sick.

She’d be all right. As soon as she got over this first bout of sickness, she’d rest, then try it again.

Two more times during this rest period ingesting the gas should be enough to start the path toward immunity. She’d be able to judge better after she recovered a little.

Afterward, she had to get up and remake the cot. Doane mustn’t know what she’d been doing when he unlocked that door.

In a few minutes. After she regained her strength.

She buried her face in her arm to avoid that smell. She was going to hate the scent of carnations for the rest of her life.

But it’s worth it, you bastard. I’m going to kick your ass.

CHAPTER

10

Redmond Hospital

Rome, Georgia

“LORD, YOU’RE PALE. YOU should be in a wheelchair,” Joe said flatly as he watched Jane walk slowly toward him down the corridor. His glance shifted to Caleb, who was beside her. “Why didn’t you keep her in San Juan?”

“The same reason you didn’t try to do it. I don’t like to waste my time. I compromised by making sure she didn’t do herself any permanent damage.” He smiled down at Jane. “She’s better than she seems.”

“I’m fine.” Her gaze was searching for the correct room number. “He’s in 1602?”

“The next one down the hall,” Joe said tersely. “I’ll come in and introduce you to Ben.”

“I don’t need you,” Jane said as she opened the hospital-room door. “You have more important things to do than hold my hand, Joe. This is my job. Let me do it.” She paused. “Any more news?”

“Nothing about Eve.” He added, “And no firm information that there have been any homicides. Ben was assaulted, but there may not have been any attempt at killing him. Hallet, the farmer who owned the stolen truck, has disappeared, but there’s no evidence that he’s been murdered. Venable’s agent, Dukes, hasn’t shown up, but he could be in pursuit.”