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her feet, Sadie pressed up against her legs in sympathy. The dog was shaking. Or maybe the shaking was coming from her own legs. Charlie was so scared it was hard to be sure.
    She kept seeing Laura’s head blow up. Oh, God, she didn’t want to die. She and Marisol had a really important singing gig on Saturday, and she’d just bought akiller new dress that she hadn’t even had a chance to wear yet, and … and …
    They were moving now. The cages rattled in the back as the Jeep bumped up onto the road. Jake moaned, stirred, and sat up, shaking his head.
    Apparently feeling himself tethered, his eyes opened and his gaze slashed sideways. Charlie cast a frightened glance at him just in time to see a loop of rope descend over his head and tighten around his neck, yanking his head back against the headrest. Jake grunted, grabbing at the rope, and at the same time the muzzle of Woz’s gun jammed into the hollow just below his ear.
    “Welcome back, asshole,” Woz said softly.
    “What the hell?” Jake’s whole body seemed to stiffen. Before he could say or do anything else Woz slammed the butt of his gun into Jake’s temple. Charlie winced in terrified sympathy as Jake made a pained sound.
    Blinking against incipient tears, Charlie forced herself to refocus her attention on the road. Although she was driving an as-slow-as-she-dared thirty miles an hour, the forest already loomed in front of them, its gravelike darkness as ominous as an executioner. Would they die in that forest? It seemed likely.
    Charlie shuddered. In the footwell, Sadie pressed closer against her legs. The dog rubbed its head against her calf in silent sympathy.
    “What the hell is your problem, the both of you?” Jake spoke in the tone of a reasonable man sorely tried. The rope around his neck pinned him back against the headrest, and his voice was raspy. A lightning glance in the rearview mirror showed Charlie that Woz had the ends wrapped around his fist.
    Woz snorted. “Come off it, asshole. We know you’re a cop.”
    “What?” Jake gave a derisive laugh that ended in a choked cough as Woz twisted the rope. “You’re crazy.”
    A cop? Charlie felt a wild burbling of hope. He was a cop? Surely that was a good thing—if it was true. But he didn’t sound like it was true. That laugh had sounded incredulous. And maybe it wasn’t a good thing anyway, under the circumstances. A cop at the mercy of a pair of drug smugglers was kind of like a bird at the mercy of a pair of cats.
    And she was with the cop.
    Denton’s gun nudged her in the back of the neck, and she cringed. “Take a left up here at the fork in the road.”
    They were in the forest now. Outside, the night was dark as a cave. Mist floated in front of the Jeep. She might, Charlie thought desperately, be able to blink the one remaining headlight if another vehicle came into view. Or honk the horn. Or drive head-on into the other car. The operative principle was, whatever it took. Anything would be better than what she feared would happen to her once the pair in the back ordered her to stop the Jeep.
    But there was no other vehicle in sight. And, frightening as it was to face the truth, they were not likely to encounter one. This area had been chosen by Critter Ridders as an ideal place to release their captives for one primary reason: It was remote.
    Charlie groaned inwardly. Why, oh, why, when Marisol had asked her to do this tonight, hadn’t she decided in favor of pleasing herself instead of her sister and just said no?
    Woz was still talking to Jake. “You know what? Blowing your brains out will be my pleasure. I never liked you anyway.”
    “Yeah, well, you’re not going to get a marriage proposal from me any time soon either, but this cop shit is the stupidest thing I ever heard.”
    “Liar! You’re going to tell us everything you know, believe me. Or maybe your friend will. She a cop, too?”
    “No!” Charlie squeaked in horrified protest.
    “Shut up.” Woz growled.