With an absent nod, Lydia took a sip. Then looked up.

“Candy, this is perfect.”

The other woman snorted. “About time something around here went right.”

Four hours later, Lydia got to the last page of what Rick had prepared. Humping the binder’s back cover over, she sunk into her chair and stared into space.

No, she thought. Back at the hotel site, Rick hadn’t intended to blow himself up.

He was just going to make it look that way. So he could disappear and start a new identity—and these documents were his insurance policy. But when she and Daniel had come up on him at the fence line, he’d changed his mind. Maybe because he’d gone as far as he could take his conscience?

She guessed she’d like to believe that, but she doubted it. He was in so much deeper than she’d imagined, and it was hard to see any way out for him.

He had been doing experiments on the wolves. Genetic manipulation attempts to try to introduce human DNA into the animals through a virus host. He’d literally been trying to create a human/wolf hybrid. And the poison had been for those specimens who had been worked on so that no one else could mine the data or find out what was going on, and the traps were a plant to make it look like someone was threatening the whole pack. In fact, Rick had stalked specific wolves, tranq’d them, and presented the tampered meat right in front of them, ensuring the correct specimen was killed.

And Peter Wynne had been paying him to do it all.

The program was incredibly sophisticated, and only partially on-site. The samples had been sent somewhere else for processing, and the DNA/viral load that had been injected had come from somewhere else, too.

The identity of that next layer up was not listed anywhere.

She thought of the floppy disks.

“They were the past.” She put her hands on the binder. “This is the present.”

And in the end, there was only one place to go with it all.

AFTER NIGHT FELL and things got cold, Daniel lit a fire in the campsite’s stone pit. He’d bought a bundle of dried hardwood at the gas station down by the highway—along with a six-pack of Coke, a bag of Doritos, and a carton of Marlboros. He’d paid cash for it all, as well as for the site rental, and by five o’clock, he’d settled in against the rock he planned on using for a pillow.

So much for his health kick.

So much for everything.

It was eight now. Eight-thirty tops.

Letting his head fall back, he listened to the crackling of the flames and watched the smoke drift up to the stars. He was about fifty miles away from the Canadian border, and he would have crossed, but he needed to arrange for another identity.

Disappearing was harder than it used to be.

Righting his eyes, he stared at the flickering orange and red flares around the logs. All he saw was Lydia, a slideshow of images of her passing before him, sure as if he were not just reliving the moments, but in them for the first time.

Lighting up another cigarette, he sipped his Coke and waited for clarity to come. Good thing he wasn’t holding his breath.

As he coughed, he thought of when he’d sat down across from her desk that first day, the smell of antiseptic wipes getting into his nose, her frantic apology as she’d waved her hands to get things to dry faster. She’d looked at him like she’d never seen a male before.

Every time he got hay fever, she was going to be on his mind.

Fuck that, she was never going to leave his thoughts anyway—

The snap of a stick off to the left had him closing his eyes with exhaustion. “Really.”

“Daniel Joseph, what the fuck are you doing.”

The deep male voice from the darkness was the worst kind of surprise, one that was both expected and not enjoyable. And it was not Mr. Personality. It was the big boss.

“That’s how you announce your presence,” Daniel said as he ashed into his Coke bottle. “Not even a hi-how’re-ya?”

“Would you prefer a bullet?”

“Actually, I’d like to never see you again, Blade.”

“That’s not going to happen. There’s one way out, and only one way. You knew that from the beginning.”

Daniel stared at the end of his cigarette. “You didn’t come here for a debate on my pink slip, did you?”

“I shouldn’t have to come find you at all.”

“But you did.”

“I’m talented. What can I say.”

There was the temptation to palm up his gun and go to town, but that was going to get him only a delay. There were others beneath his visitor. Lots of others. And somebody in that group would take him alive, one way or another.

“So here’s what we’re going to do here, Daniel. You’re going back and you’re going to finish what you signed on to do—”

“Send someone else—”

“You refused to disclose the location of the hatch. So even if we were going to let you off, and we’re not, you’ve left us with no choice but to force you—”

“So I’ll tell you now.”

“No, you’ll talk some bullshit in hopes I’ll let you go. And this is not a negotiation. You’re going to go back and finish what you went there to do, or that roommate of yours is going to have a series of very bad nights. Because we’ll keep her alive for a while. A long while.”

Daniel sat up and jabbed his cigarette across the fire. “You fucking leave her out of this.”

“Then go back there and do what you said you would do.”

“You boys are a handy lot. If I can find it, so can you.”

“True, but events have changed the landscape. You know this. Time is of the essence now.”

Daniel thought of that vet at the chain-link fence. Then all the water coming down the stairs in that converted barn.

“You’re overplaying your hand.” Daniel shook his head as he spoke into the darkness. “I don’t give a shit about that woman.”

“Okay, then. She’ll just be a honing stone for us. Training is so important, and you know that firsthand. And even though you say you don’t care, from the moment we introduce ourselves to her to her last breath, we’ll remind her that you put her in the position she’s in. And when we hide her body so that no one ever finds it? We’ll make sure that there’s a memento of you with her.”

“You’re accountable for every crime you commit,” Daniel spat.

“And so are you.”

The slideshow of Lydia started up again, the mental pictures flipping by so fast, they were hard to track. What was easy to latch on to?

Riding a wave of emotion, Daniel jumped to his feet. “Listen, you sonofabitch, if you get anywhere near her—”

“You’re going to do what? Kill me?” There was a soft chuckle. “You think there isn’t someone right next to her this very moment? If I don’t send a signal in the next four minutes, she’s dead—after a while.”

“You stay away from that house—”

“Oh, she’s not at home right now, but we’re with her. And don’t worry—we’ll keep her safe. Until we don’t. Her life is in your hands. What are you going to do?”

As rage swelled, Daniel looked into the flames.