She couldn't believe he was here, in Silver Creek. They stood there gazing at each other in the lamplight, and four weeks of emotion crackled between them. He was angry. And something else, too, something she recognized in stantly as his gaze slid over her bare legs and up again. Her pulse jumped, and he eased forward.

He clamped her arm again, and she thought he was pulling her toward the bed, but he kept going, to the sliding-glass door that stood open.

"This way."

"It's two stories up!"

"I'll help you." He grabbed her jeans off the bed and shoved them at her yet a second time, and she knew if she didn't put them on, she'd be wandering around the woods in bikini underwear.

She pulled on the pants. Will watched her zip up and fasten the snap. She started to slide her feet into flip-flops.

"Get your hiking boots."

Her eyes narrowed. How long had he been watching her? She retrieved her Timberland boots from the closet and quickly put them on over the dirty socks she'd left stuffed inside them.

Then she followed him out onto the balcony. "Can't we use the door like normal people?"

"No."

"Why not?"

In answer to her question, another knock sounded across the room.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you."

She watched, shocked, as he stepped over the railing and pivoted his body. Then dropped into the darkness and landed with a soft thump.

Hello? No way was she flinging herself off a balcony! She peered over the railing at him and shook her head.

He nodded and motioned her down.

She shook her head again.

He nodded yes.

The knock came again, harder.

What was this? She hadn't had a visitor in weeks, and now her room was Grand Central Station. She gazed back at the door, then down at Will, who looked extremely impatient.

Fine. This wasn't the craziest thing she'd ever done, but it was up there, maybe top ten. She hoisted herself onto the railing and swung her legs over. He positioned himself beneath her and held out his arms.

"If you drop me," she hissed down, "I'll never forgive you." Then she closed her eyes and pushed off.

He caught her. Just like that. And she was tucked up against his chest, staring up at him, wondering what the hell sort of danger she was in that had him driving nine hundred miles and jumping off balconies.

Then he dropped one of his arms, and her feet hit the ground. He took her hand and pulled her toward the woods.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Anywhere but here."

He towed Courtney behind him, cursing mentally every time he heard the snap and crunch of her footsteps. They might as well have been hiking through the woods with a tambourine. With her hand tightly in his, he skirted the perimeter of the property until he saw the inviting glow of the Silver Creek Inn visitors' entrance.

He turned to Courtney. "Stay here. If you're gone when I get back, I will find you, and I will be pissed."

Before she could respond, he slipped into the woods and approached the portico where several vehicles were parked, presumably awaiting check-in. The minivan had been there earlier, when Will first scoped out the hotel, but the teal Chrysler Sebring was a new arrival. Will spotted a sticker on the bumper and confirmed his suspicion that it was a rental car. He considered approaching it to check it out, maybe get a glimpse of any paperwork inside, but then a woman and young girl exited the hotel lobby and walked toward the minivan.

Will had two choices. He could get back to Courtney or he could go after whoever it was who'd come looking for her. The last option was tempting. Alarmingly so. He could envision himself snapping someone's neck in these woods, and the fact that he really wanted to scared him. But his mission was find and retrieve. And the thing he'd spent four weeks finding could be getting lost again at this very moment.

Another tourist stepped out of the hotel. He carried a fishing rod and tackle box, and Will made up his mind. There were too many civilians around here to risk a confrontation.

He retraced his steps and found Courtney exactly where he'd left her, in a clump of trees southwest of the inn.

"Hey," he whispered.

She jumped and whirled around. Then she punched him in the arm. "Don't do that!"

"Keep your voice down."

"Where did you go?"

"Reconnaissance." He took her hand again and started back into the woods, but she jerked herself free.

"Tell me what's going on." She was whispering, but she was angry.

"Later."

"I need a phone. I have to call Fiona."

"Why?"

"There's some emergency going on at home."

He pulled her deeper into the trees and lowered his voice. "Did you tell Fiona you were here?" he asked.

"No, I thought you did."

"And were you expecting company? Tonight at your room?"

"No. I don't know anyone here except my boss and my coworkers."

He exhaled, surprised at his relief. He'd prepared himself for the possibility that she'd met someone here.

"There's no emergency," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I'll explain later. Right now we need to get going." He took her hand-more firmly this time-and pulled her through the forest. "Try not to sound like a herd of elephants."

Sufficiently insulted, she followed him through the trees and foliage more quietly than before. They didn't speak. Her breath came faster as they moved uphill, away from the road, but she kept up. He heard little noises every now and then and knew she was getting all scratched up. Why couldn't she have picked a long-sleeved shirt tonight? Or long underwear, for that matter? That little lacy thing was becoming a distraction as they raced through the woods together, her panting behind him in the dark.

They neared the campground, and he slowed the pace so he could pay closer attention. He led her down a hillside to the northwest corner of the camping area, where his Chevy waited. He scanned the vicinity and noted three new vehicles since this afternoon: two aluminum campers, both hitched to pickups, and a full-size RV. With their cook stoves and lanterns, the people hanging around looked like legitimate tourists. Will dug his keys out of his pocket and led Courtney to the passenger's side of the Suburban. He unlocked the door for her and held it open. She climbed in without a word.

His temper resurfaced as he went around to the driver's side. He'd had this thing thirteen years, even bothering to store it at his uncle's deer lease while he'd been oconus. Will wasn't sentimental about much in his life, but this truck meant something to him. Maybe because he'd earned the money for it working his ass off two summers in a row. Or maybe because as a teenager, he'd gotten lucky in the back of it more times than he could count. But whatever the reason, it still irked him that Courtney had swiped it out from under his nose.

He slid behind the wheel and looked at her. "You owe me two hundred bucks."

She stared at him. She had little cuts on her face from crashing through the woods, and he started to feel guilty. But then she crossed her arms and looked ahead. "Nice greeting."

"Nice exit," he retorted, and instantly regretted it. All the way up here, he'd promised himself he wouldn't go there. He didn't want to talk about her walking out because it just pissed him off.

"I never stole your money," she said.

"Stole my truck." He started it up. "Same thing."

"Borrowed. Not stole."

"Yeah, well it cost me two hundred bucks to get it back, so you owe me."

She pursed those pretty lips of hers. Everything about her looked so goddamn familiar. Except her hair. He couldn't believe she was a blonde.

"How did you find me?"

"It wasn't that hard."

"Bullshit. It was the phone call, wasn't it? You tapped Fiona's phone. I hope you had a warrant, because if you didn't, she'll sue your butt off."

He almost laughed. She thought he was scared of a lawsuit? He rested an elbow on the seat and leaned toward her. "Running was a bad idea, Courtney. All you did was make things worse."

She looked at him with disdain. Then she turned away. "You smell like dirt."

Shaking his head, he put the truck in gear. He drove across the campground and turned east onto the highway.

"How do you know there's no emergency?" she asked.

He glanced over at her. Even in the dimness, he could see the worry on her face. She probably thought something had happened to Fiona. He felt oddly satisfied to see her fear, to watch her get a taste of what it was like to be twisted up with worry, like her sister had been these past four weeks. Like he had been.

She's a tough person to care about. Will swallowed down the bitterness, and he shifted his gaze to the road.

"It was most likely a ploy," he told her. "Someone got a tip-off you were in town. Probably checked out likely places you'd be staying. When they found someone who fit, they left you a message, then the manager pointed them straight to your door."

"Who would do all that?"

"Same people who killed Alvin. And Eve Caldwell. And Martin Pembry, and probably that other attorney, Lindsey Kahn."

The road stretched out before them, along with the silence. She was safe. She was right here. But he still didn't feel right, yet. There was too much that needed saying, but saying things-especially emotional things-wasn't something he did well.

Or ever.

She turned to look out the window and sighed wistfully. "I liked Silver Creek."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "It was beautiful. And quiet."

"Hell of a place to hide."

She turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"It's a box canyon, Courtney. It's a nightmare. One way in. One way out." He gritted his teeth, still annoyed that she'd picked such a place. The damn town was surrounded by three walls of rock. Scenic, yes, but a literal dead end if someone had found her there.

Which they had.

Will thought back to the Sebring. Whoever had come calling tonight had missed his mark by about two minutes. It was much too close a call.

"Am I under arrest?"

He cut a glance at her. "Maybe."

"What does that mean? Fiona said there was a warrant."

"It means behave yourself or I'll haul you to the nearest jail."

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath, and his pulse picked up for some reason. He'd missed that attitude of hers, and seeing it again was doing funny things to him. He wanted to pull over right now and drag her into his lap. He wanted to pull over right now and spank some sense into her.

Instead, he drove. And drove. He felt her sitting just inches away from him, getting more anxious by the minute. She didn't like her new predicament, and he'd bet anything she was plotting a way to get out of it.

The juncture finally appeared, and he turned south on the four-lane highway that would lead them to I-40.

She shook her head. "This is illegal, you know. You haven't read me my rights."

"You're not under arrest." There wasn't even a warrant out on her anymore, but he kept that to himself. He'd have no trouble coming up with a reason to arrest her. If he pushed the right buttons, it would take him about two seconds to have her on assaulting a police officer.

"So what the hell is this? I'm being held against my will. It's unlawful imprisonment."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Maybe I should have left you back in the canyon, see how long you would have lasted against some hired gun."

He flipped on the radio and turned the dial until he got a staticky country-music station. He hadn't realized how angry he was until now. Four weeks of agonizing, and now that he finally had her safe, he wanted to yell at her. This was going to be a long drive. He checked the speedometer, then the clock. He was eager to put some distance between the Suburban and Silver Creek. He also needed to make sure they weren't being followed.

He thought back to Devereaux's call. They had the ski-mask guy on videotape, which put Courtney completely in the clear. Now they just had to find the guy-or guys-and pin down who'd hired him. Will's bet was Wilkers, whose east Texas company owned a black Cadillac Escalade and who had profited handsomely from the LivTech case.

Will turned the music down. "Did Fiona tell you someone trashed your house?"

She glanced at him apprehensively, then looked out the window. "Yes."

"What were they looking for?"

She didn't speak.