Walsh tugged on her nylon wrist restraints as he pulled her through the woods. “You have a high opinion of your Joe Quinn.”
“It’s well-founded.”
“Your faith in him is touching. He was lucky. I’m better than he is. Look who’s on top now.”
“For the moment.” Eve studied Walsh, looking for weakness, as he pulled her around a clump of bushes. He held his handgun high in his right hand, and he used his left hand to guide her. “But all you’ve proved so far is that you were able to overcome me, and that was only because you took me by surprise.” He was very good. He’d appeared out of nowhere with a gun leveled at her head. A complete shock.
And, if they couldn’t find a way out, in a few moments, he’d have Joe and the skull.
“You were easy. A woman who sculpts faces on skulls? Though you did do an amazing job with reconstruction,” Walsh said. “You brought that little girl back.”
“No. There’s no coming back from what you did to her.”
A range of emotions suddenly played across Walsh’s face. Eve tried to decipher the expressions. Doubt. Fear. Anger. Was that a weakness? Probe a little and try to find out.
“Jenny had her entire life ahead of her,” Eve said.
“How do you know that’s her name?” Walsh snapped.
“That is her name, isn’t it?”
He was silent.
Eve smiled. “She told me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Believe what you want. I know the truth.”
And he knew it, too, Eve realized. Jenny had definitely reached out to him.
“We’ll wait here.” He stopped and pointed through the trees at a clearing. “That’s where your Joe Quinn will be meeting us. Don’t make a sound, Eve, and it may be over soon, with a minimum of pain for you.”
* * *
In less than five minutes, Joe appeared in the clearing. He was holding the bundle under his arm. Run, take the skull, and get the hell out of here, she wanted to tell him. But she had said it all before, and he wouldn’t do it now any more than he had then.
Joe looked around. “Walsh?” he called out.
Walsh responded, still in the cover of the surrounding trees. “Put the skull down, Quinn. And take the gun from your holster and throw it into the woods.”
“Let me see Eve.”
Walsh nudged her.
She called out. “I’m here, Joe.”
Joe tossed his gun, then rested the mosquito-net-wrapped bundle on the ground. He stepped back. “Here’s what you wanted. Now let her go.”
Bam.
Walsh fired his gun, and Joe went down.
Joe!
Blood spurted from his right side. He rolled over and looked up at Eve.
Walsh stepped forward. “So sorry, Quinn. But Eve here has been selling you as quite the formidable opponent. I couldn’t take the chance.”
Eve tried to run to Joe, but Walsh held her back.
“He can still survive, but you need to be smart, Eve. I promise you, my next bullet will finish him.”
She whirled back toward him, her eyes glistening. “He did everything you asked,” she said fiercely.
“That remains to be seen. Open the package for me, Eve. Let’s see your creation.”
Eve turned toward Joe. He was doubled over on the ground, pale and in pain. She wanted to run to him.
Walsh shoved her toward the package. “You’re wasting time.”
Eve knelt on the ground, just feet away from where Joe lay. She pulled away the mosquito netting and froze. She looked up and locked eyes with Joe.
“Well?” Walsh said.
Eve turned and raised the reconstructed skull in Walsh’s direction.
He lowered his gun and stepped toward her, his gaze fixed on the skull. He had that odd expression on his face again.
Fear. Awe. Anger.
Eve slowly reached down into the folds of netting and picked up the present Joe had hidden for her there.
His 9mm Beretta.
She gripped the handle and whirled around, firing at Walsh.
The first shot hit him in the shoulder. His gun flew from his hand.
The second shot grazed his temple.
Walsh screamed in pain and ran into the woods.
Eve kept firing until the cartridge was empty. She grabbed Walsh’s gun and turned back toward Joe. “I need you to walk. Can you do that for me?”
He shook his head, and whispered, “Go. Run.”
“No way. Not without you.” She linked her arms underneath his and dragged him out of the clearing.
His eyes fluttered. She was losing him.
She tore off her overshirt and pressed it against his wound. “Hold this here. I’ve called Nalchek. He should have been here by now.”
She punched the number. The buttons became sticky with blood. Joe’s blood.
“Nalchek,” he answered.
“Where the hell are you? Joe’s been shot. We need help now.”
“You’ll get it. The police helicopters are on their way.”
She cut the connection and turned back toward Joe.
She fell to her knees beside him.
Blood.
Staining his shirt. So much blood.
“They’re coming, Joe. He said the helicopters are on their way.”
“I think … I hear them.”
So did Eve, but so far away.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Shh, it’s okay, Eve.”
“It’s not okay,” she said brokenly. “Dammit, he shot you.” She was frantically searching for the source of the blood. “You shouldn’t have done it. Not any of it. And you stood out there and let him shoot you.”
“Knew it wouldn’t be … a kill shot if … he wasn’t sure he had the skull.”
“You didn’t know, you took the chance. And you took a chance he’d have me unwrap the skull.”
“It would have been … hard for him to unwrap it and keep an eye … on both of us. Reasonable…”
“There wasn’t anything reasonable about it. You shouldn’t have done it. We should have left when I asked you to do it. I told you that reconstruction wasn’t important. Not in comparison to—” The wound was in the upper right chest.
How deep?
Don’t think about it. Just stop it.
She applied pressure. “Keep breathing. Don’t go to sleep. I’m going to keep you with me, Joe. There’s no way I’ll let you slip away.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile was faint, and so was his voice. “You bet you won’t. Gone through too much together … Wouldn’t let a scumbag like Walsh get between…”
“Just hold on. Those helicopters are closer, almost on top of us. They should— Joe!” His eyes were closing. “Don’t do that!”
“I won’t let you down. Promise. Just for a little while…”
He was unconscious.
But not dead, she thought frantically. She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her hand. He was alive, and he’d stay alive.
She wouldn’t let him go.
* * *
Son of a bitch.
Walsh’s foot slammed down on the accelerator, and the car jumped forward.
He could feel the blood trickling down his cheek and the searing sting from the bullet Eve Duncan had fired at him. An inch more, and the bitch would have blown his head off.
She had taunted him and gotten in his way, then had almost killed him.
The rage was tearing through him. It wasn’t enough that he had, at last, probably taken down Joe Quinn. He had to have Eve Duncan. He had to show her how superior he was to her. He wanted to crush her, destroy everyone she cared about, then show her how much pain he could inflict.
Die.
She had to die.
In the most agonizing way possible.
CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
“You look … beautiful,” Joe said.
Eve opened her eyes and leaned forward in her chair toward the hospital bed. “Awake at last? You must still be woozy from the anesthesia if you think that.” She took his hand. “The surgeon said that the operation went very well, and you’re definitely out of danger. How do you feel?”
“You are beautiful. More … beautiful than usual.”
She chuckled. “I’ve already addressed that comment. No one but you would ever think I’m anything but interesting-looking, and it’s so dim in here, I’m sure you can barely see me. Now let’s talk about—”