Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

A discreet knock on the door before it opened. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir."

He glanced up to see Hannah Carter, his secretary, stand ing tentatively in the doorway. "What is it?"

"You have an appointment at the White House in ten minutes. You're meeting with the Vice President and the Secretary of the Interior. I was afraid you'd forgot-"

"I did." He forced a smile as he rose to his feet. "But I can always count on you to save my ass, Hannah."

"I'll call the Vice President's secretary and tell her you were held up by the environmental people." Hannah smiled back at him. "He's been having real trouble for the past two months getting them to okay that bill approving massive shoring up of our infrastructure."

"Brilliant. You should be doing this job, not me. I'm on my way."

She flushed with pleasure, as he'd known she would. It was always worthwhile to devote a few minutes a day to making the people around you feel important. Spreading honey was the best way to maintain control. Hannah had been working for him for ten years, and he couldn't hope to have a more devoted employee. Honey usually worked with Danley too. He'd drawn him in with praise and compliments and then slammed the door once he committed himself.

But honey was not the method he'd use on Powers if he didn't stop making mistakes.

He might have to send Runne out there to do a little prodding. If he could locate the arrogant bastard. Runne hadn't answered his phone for two days, and even when he did deign to communicate it was questionable that he'd agree to do what Betworth ordered. If he weren't so useful, Betworth would tell Powers to get rid of him and get someone else for the job.

No, Runne was perfect. He'd chosen him for that very volatility and fanaticism. Betworth could handle him until the job was done. There was no need to dispose of him, as long as Runne remained obsessed with the hunt.

Stockton, Maine

The house appeared empty.

But Morgan was clever. It could be a trap.

Runne moved swiftly, silently over the autumn leaves spread on the ground before the window. He'd already disabled the alarm system, and it took only a moment to cut the glass of the window and unlock it.

Darkness.

Are you in there, Morgan?

He waited.

Silence. Emptiness.

Morgan was gone. He could {eel it. Disappointment surged through him.

He swung over the windowsill into the room.

Paintings. Canvases. Morgan's studio. Like the studios in the other two houses where he'd just missed catching him.

Frustration and sorrow soared within him as he looked around.

Morgan hadn't bothered to pack up his canvases and take them with him, even though he'd known Runne would find this hiding place as he'd found the others. He knew Runne would not destroy them.

Destroy the man.

Destroy the soul.

Never destroy the beauty.

He would not turn on the lights. He would not look at the paintings. They would hurt too much.

But he knew the sketch would be somewhere in full view where he could find it. Morgan always took pains to make sure he wouldn't miss it.

There it was. By the window.

He didn't want to see it.

Yes, he did. At this moment he wanted nothing more in life than to see that sketch. He slowly walked toward it. As he drew closer, he saw that it wasn't just one sketch this time. There were several. He picked them up and held' each one up to the moonlight streaming in the window.

Twisted. Haunted. Passionate.

It was Runne's face, sketched over and over. Each por trayal more revealing than the next. It made Runne feel naked and angry… and sad. He could feel the tears run down his cheeks.

Morgan, may you rot in hell.

It couldn't go on. Life was too unbearable. He couldn't keep hunting him down and then having him slip through his fingers.

He had to die.

Alex carefully opened her bedroom door.

It was after three A.M., and she could see the crack of light beneath the door of the study but no moving shadow on the other side. It was the fourth time she'd checked out the study and found it the same.

Hell, maybe Morgan had sat down in a chair or couch and fallen asleep.

Not likely.

He was probably listening, waiting for her to make a move. Well, she was going to make one. What could she lose?

Morgan didn't want her dead, so he wasn't going to shoot her if he caught her. She'd try the Land Rover first and see if she could hot-wire it. She'd spent the last few hours prying the brass trim off the marble fireplace in her bedroom to make a jimmy stick. If that didn't work, she'd hike down the mountain and see if she could see the lights of another house. For all she knew, Denver might be only a few miles away.

What she did know was that she couldn't wait any longer.

She had to do something.

She closed the door and went over to the window she'd opened a few minutes ago. It was snowing harder and there was already a little pile of snow dampening the carpet.

She pulled her jacket closer around her and swung over the windowsill.

She'd gotten the Land Rover started.

Judd smiled and put down his brush as he heard the roar of the engine.

Smart woman. He wondered how she'd managed to open the door.

He heard the vehicle's tires crunch in the snow as she peeled away from the lodge and down the mountain. He moved across the room to the closet and got out his jacket and gloves. A moment later he was trudging down the mountain, his gaze on the taillights on the road ahead of him.

He hadn't gone ten yards before he lost his footing and slipped. He recovered before he fell, but it wasn't the cold that sent a chill through him.

Ice. Shit.

Dammit, the snow was so heavy she could barely see the road ahead of her.

Alex lifted her foot from the accelerator and braked lightly. Even the slight pressure caused the Land Rover to skid on the ice-covered road.

She frantically turned the wheel into the skid and then straightened the car.

God, that had been close. A foot more and she would have been off the road and plunging down the mountain.

She drew a deep, shaky breath to steady her nerves.

No big deal. She just had to drive more slowly. This Land

Rover was a strong workhorse of a vehicle and meant for rough driving. She just wished she could see better. Once she got down this mountain she'd be

Icy branches looming out of the darkness, blocking the road, reaching out…

"No!" She turned the wheel, but it was too late. A branch shattered the windshield as she skidded on the ice and into the tree.

"Jesus!"

Judd broke into a run as he came around the curve, sliding and falling and then getting to his feet again.

The headlights of the Land Rover were piercing the darkness, but the SUV had come to a stop, wheels still spinning as it rested on top of the fallen tree-and the big branch that had smashed through the windshield, splitting on impact to a dagger-thin splinter.

A splinter that had entered Alex's body and was pinning her to the seat.

"This is going to hurt."

What was he talking about? She already hurt, Alex thought dazedly.

"Do you hear me? I can't wait. I have to get you out of here. I've got to break this branch and get you free. I'll try to be quick, but you mustn't fight me or you'll tear more. Do you hear me, Alex?"

"I… hear you." She opened her eyes to see his face be fore her.

Icy blue eyes. Ice everywhere. The windshield lay shat tered around her like glittering cubes.

His hand was closing on the branch.

She stiffened as she realized what he intended to do. "No!" "I have to do it. I have to get you back up to the lodge. I can't leave you to get help. You could die of hypothermia out here."

"Hurt… "

"I know." His hand gently stroked her hair. "It's going to hurt like hell. But only for an instant and then it won't hurt anymore. I'll take care of you."