She’d lost her quarry. Gund’s van was gone. She was certain she’d seen the Chevy swing west onto a dark side road. Yet by the time she turned the same corner a minute later, the van was lost to sight. At first she’d thought Gund had pulled off into the desert. But the low, sparse scrub wouldn’t conceal the vehicle. And the land was flat—no hills or ridges to hide behind. A mystery. One thing was evident, though. Despite her precautions, Gund had realized he was being followed. And he had executed some sort of maneuver to shake off his pursuit. His behavior was not that of an innocent person. Besides—she thought restlessly as she guided the Miata down random roads, headlights sweeping yards of pitted asphalt—if he was innocent, if her suspicions were completely unfounded, then what was he doing out here in the gray wastes of the desert? Enjoying the scenery? In absolute darkness? “Face reality,” she ordered herself, mildly startled to realize she’d expressed the thought aloud.
