She turned around. The man standing in her doorway wore a ski mask. In his hand was a Sig Sauer, just like the one Alex had stashed in her desk drawer.

About twenty feet away.

She tried to speak, but her voice wouldn't work. Her heart galloped in her chest as she looked at his gun.

He turned and locked the door, and she slipped the utility knife into her back pocket.

He crossed the room and shoved her roughly into her office and into a chair. Bloodshot gray eyes peered through the mask at her.

"We can do this hard or easy," he said. "Your pick."

She felt the bulk of the knife in her pocket. She had to time this right or- "Where's Courtney Glass?"

"Who?"

His fist connected with her cheek, and her teeth rattled. "That was my left hook. You wanna try my right?"

Tears stung her eyes, and she felt dizzy. Shocked. She tried to think. "I don't know-"

The butt of the pistol drew back. She jerked sideways, but the blow came anyway, and her world went black.

Will left his Suburban at a campground on the outskirts of town and hiked in through the forest that blanketed the canyon's southwest side. A stranger in a dinged-up battle cruiser of a car would attract attention, and attention was something he did not need at the moment. Just about everything he'd done in the past two days was, if not illegal, something that could get him fired. But Will was Special Forces before he was a cop, and the teams had their own MO. It called for knowing the mission, adapting, and breaking the rules when necessary, provided you had a damn good reason.

And snatching Courtney out of a killer's sights was a damn good reason.

Will picked his way through a dense thicket of vines on the forest floor. He moved among the ponderosa pines, pinions, and junipers-all trees he knew well from training ops conducted in the Colorado Rockies. He could hide in these woods for days, not making a sound or leaving a trace, as he waited for his target to appear. He could, but he hoped he wouldn't have to. His equipment at present included a Glock, a cell phone, and a PowerBar, and his truck was paid up at the campground for two days.

This wouldn't take two days, though. Two hours maybe, if he guessed right. It was two o'clock on a Monday. Whatever Courtney did in this town, she probably did it during the day, which meant her shift likely ended in the late afternoon or evening. Unless she was a waitress, in which case she might go on about that time, but if so, she'd have mornings free, and he'd catch her tomorrow.

Money was key. He wondered how she was getting it. The amount she'd had when she left Austin wouldn't have gotten her far, so she would have taken a job by now-probably something cash-only. Will had checked with the state board, and Courtney hadn't applied for a New Mexico cosmetology license, or applied to have hers transferred. So if she was working in a salon, she was doing it illegally. But he didn't figure she'd do that, not after all the effort she'd made to cover her tracks. He figured she was doing something low profile, maybe cleaning hotel rooms or waiting tables. Or maybe she'd shacked up with some rich family whose kids needed a nanny, although that was doubtful. That sort of job required references.

Will chose his steps carefully. It had rained recently. The ground felt spongy and unreliable, and it took extra effort not to leave footprints everywhere. He probably didn't need to be so cautious, but the training was ingrained.

He hiked uphill, then down, descending the steep slope that hugged the town's main road. Through the trees, he glimpsed all the predictable marks of moneyed civilization: a sporting goods store with fly-fishing rods in the window, a coffee shop, a gift boutique with a sale on turquoise jew elry. He walked another fifty yards, until he saw what he was looking for: a grocery store-the town's only one, if his research proved accurate. And a gas station. It had a pay phone out front, a phone Will had made inquiries about yesterday under the pretext of being a repairman.

Will glanced around until he spied a fallen log concealed by a layer of branches. He eased himself behind the cover and checked the view. He could see the phone, the coffee shop, and the entrance to the grocery store. If Courtney was within ten miles of here, he predicted she'd stop at one of those three places before sundown. And if she didn't, he'd watch for her tomorrow, maybe nose around a bit. He had her picture in his pocket, but he intended to save it for a last resort. She'd probably altered her appearance since she'd left Texas, and an out-of-towner flashing around a picture was sure to generate gossip.

Will took a deep breath of damp, forest air and checked his watch. He had a good five hours before dusk, although the woods would go dark before everything else did.

Hurry up and wait.

Feeling like a soldier for the first time in years, he blended himself into the foliage and settled in.

Alex opened her eyes and winced. Too much light. Stabbing pain. She closed her eyes again and tried to think. Her head felt swollen. Her lip stung.

She braced herself for the pain and tried again. She squinted at the brightness and scanned her surroundings. Was he here? Was she alone? Where was she, anyway? Her gaze fell on an overturned box of files, and she realized she was in her office. A tornado had hit. She was on the floor, on her side, surrounded by the wreckage that had once been her desk.

She sat up and wanted to puke. She closed her eyes until the feeling passed, and when she opened them again, things looked worse. Everything was topsy-turvy. Her computer was gone. Her computer. The whir of the ceiling fan overhead made her notice the relative quiet.

She was alone.

Her arms throbbed. They were secured behind her. She tried to pull them apart, but they were bound with something.

Alex blew out a breath. She tried to think of a plan. She knew, instinctively, that she shouldn't stand, so she maneuvered onto her knees and let herself sit there a moment, adjusting to the new position.

Her head hurt. A lot. Her arms, too, but she didn't think they were broken. Her gaze moved over the carnage of her office and landed at last on the black desk phone sitting upside down on the floor. Slowly, painfully, she made her way over to it on her knees. Then she flipped the phone over and stared down at it. Her brain felt fuzzy. She looked at the numbers for a moment, turned her back to the phone, and craned her head around so she could see to dial. She punched speakerphone as the call connected.

"Nine-one-one. Please state your emergency."

"Um..." She looked around. "I'm at my office. I've been attacked." Her voice broke as she realized she could be dead right now. She muddled through the details with the operator. Then she disconnected.

Help was coming. She was alive. But the shaking was worse now, like her body was waking up and realizing what had happened. She glanced back at the phone again. She remembered Nathan calling, nearly a month ago, looking for Courtney Glass, just like the ski-mask guy. Twisting herself around again, she found the arrow button and searched through the call history. She got to the right date and found the digits. She pressed Redial and then Speakerphone and waited.

"Devereaux."

She couldn't talk.

"Hello?"

"Nathan?" Suddenly her cheeks were wet and her nose was running. She couldn't get her hands up to wipe away the snot.

"Alex? What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath and tried to get control. "He was here-"

"Who?"

"That guy. Looking for Courtney. He took my computer and-"

"Are you hurt?"

"Yes. No. Not too bad, I think-"

"I'll be right there."

Will shook off the drowsiness. He checked his watch. Three hours, and no sign of Courtney. He shifted, ever so slightly, and got the blood flowing in his legs. The lack of sleep was taking a toll. Since getting his hands on Fiona's phone, he'd been occupied nonstop, first running down the pay phone lead and then with driving his ass across Texas and New Mexico. A plane would have been faster, but he hadn't wanted a paper trail. So he'd driven. And driven. And now he could barely keep his eyes open.

Focus. He forced his attention back to the coffee shop, the most popular destination in town, evidently. Another baseball cap guy walked out carrying an overpriced drink, and Will added a notch to his mental tally. Coffee shop, nine. Grocery store, seven. Gas station, four. Pay phone, zilch.

His phone vibrated, and he checked the number. He weighed the risk of talking to Devereaux versus the benefit of gaining information.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Where are you?"

"Busy. What's up?"

"Christ, Hodges. You picked a hell of a day to call in sick, you know that? I'm in the hospital right now with Alex Lovell."

"The PI?"

"The PI. She took a beating off some ski-mask guy at her office this morning. He came in looking for Courtney, and the sonovabitch gave her a concussion. A split lip, too. She's a mess-"

"Did she give up Courtney?"

Pause. "Hey, she's okay, by the way. Thanks for asking. And she didn't give up Courtney, but the asshole took her computer, so it's possible he's got a location. Alex said they traded e-mails maybe a week ago. Luckily, we got the perp on videotape, and we're working on an ID, so-"

"I'll call you later."

Will hung up and squinted at the woman crossing the street. She was blond. She wore flannel. She was heading for the grocery store, and she looked all wrong except...

That walk. He'd know it anywhere. She wore jeans and hiking boots, but that walk was all spike heels and attitude. She entered the exit door, and Will's heart gave a kick.

He eased from the cover of the blind.

Courtney pushed up on her palms and arched into cobra pose on the narrow balcony just outside her room. She gazed at the sky. It had gone dark already as dusk settled over the canyon. She took a deep, cleansing breath, and allowed herself one more moment of tranquility before she went inside for a shower.

A flicker of movement caught her eye.

She scanned the pine-covered hillside. Was someone...? No, it was a squirrel. She took another deep breath and told herself to relax. She'd been jumpy all day.

She stood up and stretched her arms above her head. She felt warm. Loose. Rejuvenated after her half hour routine. It wasn't as vigorous as Bikram yoga, which required a 105-degree room, but it made her feel good.

She pulled her towel off the banister and blotted her face. A breeze rippled over the hillside, and the pines swayed. She scanned the woods again, letting her gaze pause on all the deep, dark shadows. There was no one out there.

She tugged the sliding-glass door open and went inside. Several bags of groceries sat on the bed, and she culled through them. She found soap and a razor, and went into the bathroom to clean up.

The water pressure was low again, so she didn't linger. It was no secret why Pauline offered these rooms to staffers-they were minuscule, had outdated plumbing, and faced the hillside instead of the canyon. Plus they needed a makeover.

Courtney whisked back the orange-and-aqua shower curtain and wrapped a towel around her body.

She went into the bedroom and rummaged through the dresser. Hmm...flannel nightshirt or cotton? Neither of her Walmart purchases held much appeal. She was homesick for her wardrobe, for something cool and silky to slip over her skin tonight. She settled for some lace undies and a black tank top. She dropped the towel and dressed, then opened the minifridge and searched for some dinner.

More tantalizing choices-yogurt, apples, or the remaining half of the club sandwich she'd had for dinner yesterday. The menu at the inn was getting repetitive, so she reached for an apple.

A draft tickled her skin, and she turned around. The drapes fluttered near the balcony. She'd left the door open?

A shadow shifted in the corner. She jumped backward.

"Hello, C.J."

CHAPTER 21.

Will.

She dropped the apple on her foot, and it rolled under the bed. "How did you get here?"

He stepped closer. "Drove."

"No, but..." She stared up at him. Several days' worth of beard covered his jaw, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"But how'd you get in?"

"It wasn't locked."

She turned toward the balcony. It had to be ten feet off the ground- He shoved a pair of jeans into her hands. "Get dressed. We're leaving."

"What?"

"We're leaving. Now."

"I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere!"

But he wasn't listening. He snagged her backpack off the chair and stuffed her purse inside it. Then he went in the bathroom and she heard her toiletries being shoveled off the counter.

"Wait. Wait!" She stalked in behind him, but the bathroom wasn't large enough for both of them, and she was squeezed up against the wall. She'd forgotten how big he was.

He zipped her pack and shouldered it. "We need to get moving."

He took her arm and pulled her toward the door just as someone knocked.

They halted and looked at each other.

He was here. She couldn't believe it, except that his hand was clamped around her elbow like a vice. He gazed down at her, and his face was so beautifully familiar, and she wanted to hug him. He'd come after her. There was something miraculous about that, something that made her throat tighten and her eyes sting.

"Ask who it is." He spoke so low, she could barely hear.

She cleared her throat. "Who is it?"

"It's me."

Pauline. She shook Will's grip off and cracked the door. "Hi." Courtney was half naked and had wet hair, and she hoped Pauline would figure she'd interrupted her shower.

"Sorry to bother you, C.J., but you had an urgent message from your sister. She said for you to call home."

How had Fiona known where to find her? Had Will told her?

"Thanks." Courtney forced a smile. "I'll take care of it."

She closed the door and turned around, and Will was right there behind her, his arms crossed over his chest.