He glanced at the west where the setting sun was splintering the sky with scarlet.

It was the end of the day. Devon had said that the team would be gone by evening. Soon she would be boarding a helicopter that would take her to the airport in Caracas where the canine rescue team would change to a jet to take them home. Ned would be with her. Even without the necessary dossier he'd had to get on her, he'd had no doubt that she'd find a way to keep Ned by her side. She had been wary with him, but she was all heart where Ned was concerned. He'd be safe with her.

He wished he could say the same about Devon Brady. There was no way she'd be safe. If he'd just had her treat Ned and taken him away, she might have had a chance. But he'd robbed her of all safety when he'd left Ned with her.

Stop standing here staring, he thought impatiently. What was done was done. Get on with the job at hand. Find the shooter. Make him talk before he killed him. He needed to know how he'd been found so that he could close the crack in the dam. Then he'd go get Ned and disappear again.

And try to convince Devon Brady to disappear, too.

"BE CAREFUL WITH HIM." DEVON watched Nick and one of the orderlies lift Ned's stretcher onto the helicopter. "He may get ner vous if we-"

"Shut up, Devon." Nick gave her a long-suffering look. "You're the one who's ner vous. The dog is fine." He glanced at Devon's dog, Gracie, who'd jumped into the helicopter and settled down beside Ned. "And it seems that Gracie is going to keep him company."

"So I see." Devon should have known Gracie would bond with Ned. The greyhound was one of the most empathetic dogs Devon had ever known. Loving, serious, always the mother of any new arrival in Devon's bevy of animals. She had been that way from the day Devon had taken her from a greyhound rescue unit. She'd had a broken leg, was half-starved and scared to death, but she'd immediately bounced back and became the loving Gracie she was now. "Okay, Gracie, but keep an eye on him. Nick called him a con artist."