She had been so excited when it had shaken loose, but that small moment of triumph had evaporated when she realized she was still bound. Although she was no longer tied to the chair, her wrists were secured by a knot she hadn’t previously discovered, this one holding together the figure eight of rope he had whipped around them. She was free of the chair, but that wasn’t good enough when Hardesty had a gun and she couldn’t use her arms.

The camera moved in for a close-up of Bobby Tom. Pain had dulled her senses, and several seconds ticked by before she noticed that something was wrong. When Bobby Tom missed one, his customary good humor always deserted him. He screwed up his face and cursed himself. But now, even on the small TV screen, she could see that his expression was devoid of any emotion.

He knows. Every one of her intuitive powers made her certain that Dan had told him what had happened. She knew how much this game meant to Bobby Tom, and she could only imagine what it had cost him to deliberately miss the ball. Her anger burned as she stared at Hardesty’s back. He had no right to steal this day from them.

The Stars punted and the Sabers began their next series, while the scoreboard clock continued to tick.

7:14 . . . 7:13 . . . 7:12 . . .

The Sabers began a series of passing plays. She thought of the way the men looked after the games: dirty, limping, bloody. In her mind she saw them on the plane coming back from road games, with their knees wrapped in ice packs, their shoulders bandaged, while they popped pain killers so they could sleep. Not one of those men wouldn’t do anything for the Stars.

6:21 . . . 6:20 . . . 6:19 . . .

With so little time left, she wasn’t at all certain she could undo the last knot before the clock ran out. It was loosening, but not quickly enough. She had the awful feeling that she was letting down the team, that somehow she wasn’t trying hard enough.

5:43 . . . 5:42 . . . 5:41 . . .

Portland scored another field goal. Sabers 27, Stars 17. She had to make a decision. She could play it safe and stay where she was, hoping he would let her go at the end of the game. Or she could risk everything to win her own freedom.

Dan’s face came on the screen, and she made up her mind. She wasn’t going to lose him or the Stars without a fight. Her mind raced. She would only have one chance, and she had to pick her moment.

5:07 . . . 5:06 . . . 5:05 . . .

Hardesty bent forward, racked by another of his hacking coughs. She planted her feet and shoved hard against the floor. The chair flew forward.

He spun awkwardly as he heard the wheels squeak. With a harsh exclamation, he lifted his fist to strike her. She drew up her legs and rammed her heel into his groin.