“I want the name of your informant.”

“No way. Will you trust me when I tell you that there’s nothing you could find out from the informant that we haven’t already learned?”

“I’m not big on trust.”

“It’s true, Nalchek,” Eve said. “I promise you.”

He gazed at her. She could see his frustration. “You’ll tell me if you learn anything else?”

She nodded.

He turned away. “Then I’m going to start a search in local records for anyone of that name. He may be a British citizen, but we may still have something. Right now, I’ve had enough, and I’m going back to my office.” He looked back at Margaret. “I only half believe you, and I’m not going to tell you to keep me informed. Coyotes aren’t my idea of confidential informants, either.”

She smiled. “I believe we won’t hear anything from Sajan unless Walsh comes back here. I’ll keep tuned in to him for you.”

He grunted, and the next moment, he’d disappeared around the bend.

“Poor guy. It’s very difficult for him.” Margaret jumped to her feet. “Too bad. I like him.” She looked at Eve. “I told him the truth. There’s nothing much I can do right now with Jenny’s coyote. What else do you want me to do?”

“Stay close. You’d know if Walsh returned to these woods?”

“Sajan would know, then I’d know.”

“Then stay at the hotel and monitor him while Joe and I go to Sacramento and see if we can find out anything about Walsh.”

“And that’s all I can do?” she asked, disappointed.

“That’s more than enough. You’ve done your job. You’ve told us that it wasn’t over for Walsh when he’d made the kill. That he was on guard and worried that she might be found. Or that something else might be found to tell us her identity.”

“Evidently you knew that already.”

“You confirmed it. Now we have to find out why that was so important to him. We’ll drop you off at the hotel on our way out of town.” She turned to Joe. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Margaret said as she sat down again and reached for her tennis shoes. “I have to dry my feet and put on my shoes…”

*   *   *

Margaret tied her tennis shoes and got to her feet.

She stared thoughtfully after Eve and Joe as she tucked her shirt back into her jeans.

Pity.

Eve had obviously written off her help in anything but a minor manner. She thought Margaret had done her part and didn’t want to jeopardize her any more than she had already. Eve was protective and independent and wanted to do everything herself. Margaret understood that concept but couldn’t accept the application where she was concerned. She couldn’t see herself lazing beside the pool at that pretty little hotel waiting for something to happen.

She turned and stared at the dense trees on the other side of the stream.

Are you there, Sajan?

No answer.

But that didn’t mean that the coyote didn’t understand. He was a mixture of emotions where people were concerned. He wanted to live his simple, solitary life, yet he had been pulled into monitoring and guarding this forest, this grave. He couldn’t understand it, and he didn’t like it. He wanted it to all go away.

Maybe it will soon. I don’t know why, either. But sometimes we’re guided in strange paths.

Like this one for her. From the moment she had entered this forest last night, she had felt a sense of rightness. She had known that she could help Eve, known that she could help that child who had been thrown in that grave.

“Margaret?” Eve called.

“Coming.”

She started down the path after them.

But she couldn’t help that child who was targeted if she played the waiting role that Eve had chosen for her. She would have to do what she did best and ignore everything else.

She could learn this forest and the creatures who inhabited it. She didn’t necessarily need Sajan. She just had to be here.

And she would be.

CARMEL, CALIFORNIA

“Come on, Cara.” Heather Smallwood wrinkled her nose. “You know you hate getting on those school buses as much as I do. It’s only ten blocks to the apartment building, and we can stop off at that delicatessen and get a soda.”

It was very tempting, Cara thought wistfully. Heather was cool. She was funny and popular and always wore neat clothes. Cara hardly got a chance to see her except at school. They lived in the same apartment building, but Elena had strict rules about Cara’s visiting other kids in the neighborhood. Elena had strict rules about everything.

“I’d be grounded for a month if I didn’t ride the bus home. My aunt says it’s not safe to walk home.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. You’re almost twelve, and there would be two of us,” Heather said in disgust. “I’ve walked it lots of times by myself. I just thought it would be fun to have you with me.”

“It would be fun.” She hesitated. “Let me talk to her. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, sure.” Heather turned away. “It won’t happen. You can’t ever do anything. I don’t know why I even tried.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Cara repeated. “And you’re not going to convince me by making me sound like a wimp. My aunt worries a lot, but she can’t help it. It’s probably all those creepy news stories on TV.” She headed for the bus. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Heather.”

“Yeah.” Heather stood looking at her for a moment, then turned toward the street. “Tomorrow.”

*   *   *

The young girl with the blond ponytail and green plaid skirt would be so easy, Walsh thought.

Even from where he was sitting in his car down the street, he could tell that Heather Smallwood was one of the confident ones who thought nothing could ever happen to them. There was a bounce to her step that was almost a swagger, and she had obviously been trying to convince Cara Delaney to come with her. Too bad she had failed. Successful repetition bred that confidence, and after a while, Cara might have been lured to try to take more chances.

And then she would have been his.

But instead she was safely on that yellow bus going home to sweet, steady, interfering Aunt Elena.

He smothered the surge of anger that exploded through him at the thought of that betrayal. Calm down. It was only a postponement. The important thing was that he had found the child, the one they called Cara Delaney. He leaned forward, his gaze focused on her face as she looked out the window at her cocky, little friend walking down the street swinging her book bag.

Yes.

He had been right to mark Cara. It had been a long time, but he’d finally found her. But seeing her in the flesh had erased any hint of doubt.

Because this time there was no mistake.

She was the one.

He took out his phone and dialed Salazar. “I’ve found her.”

“You’ve said that before and failed me. Why should I believe you now?”

Arrogant bastard. “Then don’t believe me. But I’m going after her anyway. I’d suggest that you be prepared to send someone to help me dispose of this particular body in case it might cause you extreme discomfort.” He paused. “And deposit that money in my account in the next few days. I may have to move fast.”

“Without proof that I’m going to get my money’s worth?”

“I’m sending you a photo I just took.” He pressed the button on his phone. “Proof enough?”

There was silence. “It … could be.”

“And the kid has an Aunt Elena. Elena Delaney. This time I went after her photo at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Last name different from our Elena Pasquez, but the first was the same. I suppose it was easier to change the fake ID. And the face was definitely our Elena. It took me a load of bribe money and weeks of going through their records before I found a picture of the bitch. Then all I had to do was stake out her apartment until I saw the kid.”

“What about the kid’s name?”

“Marnie? Come on, Elena wouldn’t be that stupid. She knows the kid has to enroll in school. She’s calling her Cara now. But, put it all together, and I’m much closer than the other marks I removed on pure speculation. You agree?”