The Charlemagne Pursuit

STEPHANIE SAW THAT SMITH WAS PUZZLED.

"What did it do? Walk away?"

"Go see."

He jammed the assault rifle into her face. "You lead the way."

She sucked a deep breath and steeled her nerves.

"One of you pick up those guns and toss them out the window," Smith said, keeping his eyes locked on her.

Davis did as instructed.

Smith lowered the rifle. "Okay, let's all have a look. You three first."

They crept down the corridor and entered the bedroom.

Nothing there but a bare window frame, the open wall panel, and a bloody hand.

"You're being played," Stephanie said. "By her."

McCoy reeled back from the accusation. "I paid you ten million dollars."

Smith didn't seem to care. "Where's the friggin' body?"

DOROTHEA PRESSED AHEAD. SHE KNEW CHRISTL WAS WAITING FOR her. Their entire lives had been spent in competition. One trying to outdo the other. Georg had been the one thing she'd managed that Christl had never matched.

And she'd always wondered why.

Now she knew.

She shook all troubling thoughts from her mind and concentrated on the murky scene before her. She'd hunted at night, stalking prey through the Bavarian woods under a silvery moon, waiting for the right moment to kill. At best, her sister was a double murderess. Everything she'd ever believed about her had now been confirmed. Nobody would blame her for shooting the bitch.

The hallway ended ten feet ahead.

Two doorways-one left, one right.

She fought a spasm of panic.

Which one?