Hurry.

No time to try another karate blow. Even though he couldn’t see right now, she knew he had a gun as well as the emblem with the gas release in that pocket.

Keep to the plan.

She dashed the short distance to the bedroom, grabbed the duffel she had set by the door.

Then she was running back toward Doane and the reconstruction.

Doane was still flailing, but he had his gun half-out of his pocket. “You think I can’t see you? You’re hazy, but that’s all I need to shoot you. Stop where you are. I have a use for you. I’m not ready to kill you yet, bitch.”

“Really? I’m ready to kill you,” Eve lifted her foot in a karate kick that struck his hand and sent the gun flying. She dove for the gun, but he was suddenly there on top of her.

He was heavy. So heavy. The best she could do was push the gun spinning across the floor to the opposite side of the room.

No chance to get across the room to retrieve it, she realized in despair.

“Kill me?” he taunted, his hands closing on her throat. “We’re too strong for you. Can’t you feel our power? I’ll squeeze the life out of you. No, not quite. Not yet.”

She was getting dizzy as her air was shut off. Move now or not at all.

She lunged upward and butted her head against his forehead with all her strength.

He grunted with pain, and his grip loosened.

She tore free and rolled to the left, punching him in the stomach.

But he was recovering quickly, reaching for her.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

But keep to the plan.

Do the one thing she dreaded the most.

She jumped to her feet and whirled toward the dais, where the reconstruction stared at her with those blind eyes.

Don’t look at him. He’s nothing. He’s only bone and clay.

She took a deep breath.

The next instant she reached out, snatched the skull from the dais, and threw it in her open duffel.

“What are you doing?” Doane screamed. He was right behind her, his hand grabbing her shoulder. “What are you doing to my Kevin?”

She tore away from his grip and ran toward the door.

“You’re insane. I told you what would happen if you opened that front door.” He was reaching for the control emblem in his pocket. “But I’m not going to wait. I’ll bring you down now and have you groveling.”

She was almost at the door.

Carnations.

Don’t breathe.

She held her breath.

Carnation scent surrounding her.

She unlocked the front door and heard the gas release from the vent above the door.

More carnations.

Dizzy.

Oh, God, she should have taken longer to accustom herself to the gas.

Too late.

Hold your breath and pray that you can endure it.

She was outside!

Don’t breathe yet. There might be lingering scent on the air issuing from the open doorway or clinging to her clothing.

She ran.

Rocks under her feet. Trees. Head for the trees. Sharp, cold air hitting her cheeks.

Lungs bursting.

The feel of the duffel striking her thigh as she ran. Was she feeling Kevin’s reconstruction through the heavy canvas?

She could hear Doane shouting behind her. No shots. He must not have retrieved the gun before he came after her or he’d be firing bullets instead of ugly words. He’d probably been too stunned that she’d been able to withstand the gas.

She took a cautious breath. It seemed safe. The faintest hint of carnation probably emanating from her shirt.

Or was it coming from the duffel, caught in the open zippered fold where Kevin’s skull rested?

The scent was from her shirt. Don’t think of anything else.

Just bone and clay. Just bone and clay.

“Give him back to me.” Doane’s voice was a raw, thunderbolt of rage. “What are you doing? Give him back to me, or I’ll kill everyone that you care about. And I’ll tell Blick to take his time with your fine, pretty daughter. Blick knows all about suffering. He never interfered with Kevin’s pleasure, but sometimes he shared.”

She tried to block out his voice. He had no weapon at the moment but words, but these filled her with desperation and fear. Don’t listen to him.

Keep to the plan.

Her gaze searched wildly to the right and left. This path appeared to be going straight up the mountain, with trees on either side.

She needed to be closer to the cliff edge.

“Blick was angry that I was upset when he disobeyed me and shot Jane MacGuire. He’ll be happy to have my blessing to take that anger out on her.”

“I told you once that you can’t use that weapon against me. Jane’s stronger than you, so is Joe.” Please, let that be the truth. Let good be stronger than evil.

A break in the trees ahead, and she could see a glimpse of the steep cliff that sloped to the valley hundreds of feet below.

Yes.

She increased her speed, running hard, leaving Doane a good distance behind.

“You’re mad. What are you doing? You know I’ll punish you. We’ll punish you.”

“Stop where you are.” She’d reached the break in the trees, near the edge of the cliff, and turned to face him. She was panting, perspiring, her eyes glittering. “This is the end, you bastard.”

He stopped several hundred yards down the path, his expression suddenly wary. “Suicide, Eve?” He shook his head. “I know I said that you didn’t have a fear of death, but I don’t think you’d willingly take your own life.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t.” She reached in the duffel and pulled out the reconstruction. “Poor Kevin, he’s a little worse for wear with all this jouncing around. His nose looks a bit askew, doesn’t it?”

Doane froze, his gaze on the skull of his son. “Give him back to me.”

“No way.” She glanced over the cliff. “It looks a long, long way down that slope. I’m afraid he’s going to have a rough trip.”

“No!” He took a step forward, then stopped as she held the reconstruction over the edge. “He’s so near to being back with me. You can’t do that to him.”

“Watch me. And then you can decide whether you want to chase after me or go after your precious son. There’s no telling what kind of damage that skull will undergo skidding down that slope toward the valley. It might break on the boulders, or it might be eaten by wolves or coyotes if you don’t retrieve it right away. Don’t you want to save your son, Doane?”

“You won’t do it. He won’t let you do it.” He was glaring at her from those burned red eyes. “It’s happening right now. Your muscles are locking. Aren’t your hands tightening around that skull to keep it from dropping?”

“No.” She deliberately forced her fingers looser on the reconstruction. She wouldn’t let insidious suggestion beat her now. “Do you think that I’d let you use my work in the little nightmare scenario you’ve drawn in that sick mind of yours? I can see you flourishing this ghastly head in Zander’s face before you kill him, and I don’t give a damn. But you seem to want me to be part of the kill, and you’ll have to give that up.”

“I won’t give it up. I want Zander to see you. I want you there.”

“Then come and get me.” She looked him in the eye. “But go and get Kevin first.”

She dropped the skull over the cliff.

Doane screamed as if in mortal pain.

She whirled and started dashing up the path.

Run.

And hope that she’d managed to buy the time she needed to get away from Doane. It had been the only ploy she could think of to distract Doane from the chase.

She had a good chance of Doane’s going after Kevin’s skull. He was completely obsessed by everything connected to that reconstruction.

She glanced back over her shoulder.

Doane was standing at the edge of the cliff, his hands clenched into fists as he looked down the long slope where she’d thrown the skull. His face …

And then he looked up the path at her. Darkness. Rage. Evil.

She froze. She inhaled sharply and couldn’t move. She should keep running, but the force of that evil halted her in her tracks. It was as if he’d laid a hand on her shoulder and jerked her to a stop.