“Not a good idea.” Silver smiled as he opened the front door. “I'd rather rely on you.”

“So would I.” She turned to George, who had just come out of the library. “Will you have someone take care of—” She stopped. “Never mind. We're taking Sam with us.”

“Why?” George asked.

“I'm not sure.” A hunch? She signaled to Sam. “But it just occurred to me that Trask mentioned Sam in both conversations with me. It probably didn't mean anything, but I don't want to take a chance that he might have been trying to—” She headed for the door. “We're taking him.”

Sam was barking in ecstatic greeting as Kerry and Silver climbed back into the SUV.

“Oh, for Pete's sake, shut up, Sam,” Kerry said in exasperation. “You just saw us fifteen minutes ago.” And it was fifteen minutes too long. This was the fourth warehouse they'd searched, and they weren't moving fast enough. She grabbed the list and checked off the two warehouses they'd searched on this block. “There's another warehouse ten minutes from here. Giliad Storage on Baker Street.”

Silver nodded as he started the SUV. “Call George and check and see if Ledbruk has found anything.”

“He said he'd let us know.” She dialed the phone anyway. Maybe they'd gone through a dead-zone area for her cell. At this point she'd reach for any straw.

“No break,” George said when she reached him. “I contacted Ledbruk ten minutes ago. They hadn't found anything, and he was pretty uptight.” He was silent. “It's getting close to the wire.”

“We know that,” she said jerkily. “Let us know if you hear anything.” She hung up. “Ledbruk hasn't found anything. Hurry.”

“I'm hurrying.” He glanced at her. “We still have an hour. A lot can happen in an hour.”

“Yeah, Carmela Ruiz could burn up in that warehouse.” She aimed her flashlight on the list. “There's another warehouse about ten minutes from Giliad. We should try— Stop that, Sam.” The dog had jumped up on the back of the seat and was nuzzling her ear. “I don't want to play. No games.”

“We should have left him at home,” Silver said. “We don't need—”

“Game.” Kerry sat upright in the seat. “This is a game Trask is playing with me, and he had to give me a clue if he wanted me to find that warehouse. He wouldn't want me to bring Sam to muddy up the situation, but he suggested I do it twice. Why?”

Silver's eyes narrowed on her face. “You tell me.”

Her gaze was flying down the list. “I don't know. But maybe he— Samson Tobacco Storage.” Her eyes widened with excitement. “Sam. Samson.”

“It's a stretch.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He shook his head. “Where is this warehouse?”

She checked the address against the map. “On the waterfront. Thirty minutes.”

“Get on the phone and have Ledbruk send some agents there.” His foot pressed the accelerator, and the SUV jumped forward. “They might be able to reach it before we do.”

Trask checked his watch.

Ten more minutes.

She should be here by now, he thought in disappointment. Perhaps she wasn't as clever as he'd thought. He'd been sure that she would make the connection. He would have put two and two together, and they were so much alike.

Come on, Kerry. Let me show you my power.

Five more minutes passed.

He made a final adjustment of the dish that he'd aimed at the window of the third floor of the warehouse across the street. Carmela was in a little cubbyhole down the hall, but if the dish was working properly, the fire would block her exit route.

Where are you, Kerry?

Ten more minutes.” Silver's foot pressed on the accelerator. “And Ledbruk may already be there, Kerry.”

“And he may not.” Kerry's teeth bit down on her lower lip. “All I could tell him was that I had a hunch. He may not consider a hunch valid enough to rush over there.”

“He's not an ass. Trust him.”

She shook her head, reached for her telephone, and started to dial.

“Who are you calling?” Silver asked.

“Someone I do trust.”

Sirens.

Trask went still, his gaze on the flashing red lights of the three fire trucks at least seven blocks away. There was no question they were coming in this direction.

“Good girl,” he murmured. She hadn't failed the test—yet. Kerry had figured out where the warehouse was located, but she wasn't going to get here in time to save the target. All he had to do was press the switch in his hand and get out of here. Too bad he couldn't stay and enjoy the fruits of his planning, but there would be firemen and police all over the place in minutes.

Kerry had cheated him out of that pleasure. It was strange that he felt no anger toward her. In fact, there was pride mixed with his disappointment. A pride resembling the way he felt when he saw Firestorm at work.

But he had to inflict the same disappointment, to make her realize that she hadn't really succeeded. It was only fair.

He pressed the red switch.

Smoke!

Carmela woke with a start, struggling for breath.

The office was filled with smoke so thick she could barely see. But what she did see terrified her. A red glare outlined the door across the room.

Fire.

Holy Mother of God, she was going to die.

No. She wouldn't die. Find a way out.

She was on her feet, running toward the door.

She threw it open.

The hall was a blazing inferno. The flames were eating the stairs going down to the first floor like a hungry beast. The fire was traveling at an incredible speed, already igniting the second floor.

But the stairs going up to the roof were untouched—so far.

She started toward the staircase.

Heat.

Searing heat.

She reached the stairs and started up them. She could see a door at the top of the winding staircase.

What if that door was locked?

No choice.

Sweet Jesus, the steps behind her were blazing.

Oh, God, let the door be unlocked.

Kerry and Silver were still five minutes away when Kerry heard the distant wail of sirens.

Relief soared through her. “They're on their way. They must be almost—”

Pain.

Tearing through her temples.

Swirling down into darkness.

Ugliness.

Filth.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

“Kerry?”

She couldn't answer. Fire was licking, swirling around her and . . . him. Trask. They were together, and Firestorm was—

“Kerry.” This time it was a demand from Silver. “Fight it. Fight him.”

Fight him. Yes, she couldn't be pulled into that darkness. She struggled. Hard. So hard.

Free.

Yet not free.

“What's happening?” Silver asked.

“He's done it,” Kerry whispered. “He wanted to wait until I got there, but he was worried about being discovered.”

“He ignited the warehouse?”

“Yes. He was in the building across from the warehouse, but he's out in the street now.”

“Where?”

“Back door. Not the street where the warehouse—” She closed her eyes. “Jesus, he's thinking about Carmela. He's wishing— No way out for her. But he wanted to see it.”

“Why isn't there a way out for her?”

“He started the fire on the floor where she was sleeping. Firestorm travels too fast . . .” She was shaking. “She's going to die. He knows she's going to die.”

“I'm going to call Ledbruk and see if he can intercept Trask. Tell me where he is.”

“She's going to die,” she whispered.

“Kerry.”

“He's two blocks away and getting into a dark-gray van. He's driving away. He's looking back over his shoulder and he can see the warehouse. It looks like one big pillar of fire. No one could get out of that building. He's very satisfied. He's imagining Carmela in the fire. Her flesh is burning, blackening—”

“Okay, get away from him.”

“She's going to die.”

“Kerry, can you see the license number of his van?”

“No, I can only see what he sees.”