Now she couldn’t even see down to the huts and Doug. But she could see an army of tiny, rust-colored insects burrowing into the dead tree an inch from her face. Fighting revulsion, she kept still. Doug was on his own now, she told herself. And so was she.
Overhead came a rustling that might have been thunder by the way it echoed in her head. Fear gripped, followed by a wave of giddiness. How the hell was she going to explain to her father that she’d been kidnapped by a couple of thugs in a forest in Madagascar on her way to find lost treasure with a thief?
He didn’t have much of a sense of humor.
Because she knew her father’s wrath and didn’t know Dimitri, the idea of the first worried her a great deal more than the second. She nearly crawled into the tree.
The rustling came again. There was no more casual conversation between the men. Stalking was done in silence. She tried to imagine them walking toward her, around her, beyond her, but her mind iced over with fear. Silence dragged on until sweat pearled on her forehead.
Whitney screwed her eyes shut as though, like a child, she believed the idea of I can’t see you, you can’t see me. It seemed easy to hold her breath when her blood was slowed and thickened with terror. There was a quiet thump on the trunk directly above her head. Resigned, she opened her eyes. Staring at her with intense eyes out of a black face was a smooth-coated lemur.
“Jesus.” The word came out on a trembling breath, but there wasn’t time for relief. She could hear the men approaching, more cautiously now. She wondered if being stalked in Central Park brought the same chilling fear. “Get!” she hissed at the lemur. “Go on.” She lay there, making faces at him, not daring to move. Obviously more amused than intimidated, he began making faces back at her. Whitney shut her eyes on a sigh. “Sweet Christ.” The lemur sent up a chatter that brought both men rushing to the rise.
She heard a high-pitched whoop and the retort of a gun, then watched the wood splinter and fly no more than six inches above her face. At the same moment, the lemur leapt off the trunk and into the thicket.
“Idiot!” Whitney heard the quick, hard sound of a slap, then incredibly, a giggle. It was the giggle more than the shot, more than the stalking, that had her body limp with terror.
“Almost got him. Another inch and I’d’ve plugged the little bastard.”
“Yeah, and that gunshot probably has Lord running like a rabbit.”
“I like shooting rabbits. Little fuckers freeze and look right at you when you pull the trigger.”
“Shit.” She recognized disgust when she heard it and nearly sympathized. “Get going. Remo wants us moving north.”
“Nearly got me a monkey.” The giggle sounded again. “Never shot a monkey before.”
“Pervert.”
The word and the echoing laughter drifted away. Moments passed. Whitney lay still and silent as a stone. The insects had decided to explore her arm as well as the tree, but she didn’t move. She decided she might have found a very good place to spend the next few days.
When a hand closed over her mouth, she jerked like a spring.
“Taking a nap?” Doug whispered in her ear. Watching her eyes, he saw surprise turn to relief and relief to fury. As a precaution, he held her down a moment longer. “Take it easy, sugar. They aren’t that far away yet.”
The moment her mouth was free, she started. “I nearly got shot,” she hissed at him. “By some whiny little creep with a cannon.”
He saw the fresh splinters in the tree above her head, but shrugged. “You look okay to me.”
“No thanks to you.” She brushed at the sleeve of her blouse, allowing the disgust as insects scattered into the moss. “While you were down there playing Robin Hood, two nasty men with equally nasty guns came strolling by. Your name was mentioned.”
“Fame’s a burden,” he murmured. It had been close, he thought with a glance at the splintered tree again. Too close. No matter how he maneuvered, no matter how often he shifted direction and tactics, Dimitri hung on. Doug knew the sensation of being tracked. He also knew the sweaty, gut-fluttering feeling of the hunted when the hunter was closing in. He wasn’t going to lose. He looked into the forest and forced himself to stay calm. He wasn’t going to