He was still laughing softly, highly amused with her. It made no sense. Then he walked beneath a strong light at the head of the stairs and stopped. He laughed again. “Look, Sally. Look at me.”

She did. It wasn’t Amory St. John.

The phone service was still on. Thomas called the Portland office. When he hung up, he said, “They’re bringing a helicopter up here. Thirty minutes, tops.”

“What about David?” Corey said.

“Jesus,” Quinlan said. “Here, let me call his wife.” David’s lovely sweet wife, Jane, who’d taken him in when they cracked him over the head, who’d fed him soup. He prayed David was alive. Please, let him be alive.

When she answered, Quinlan said, “Hi, this is Quinlan. Please tell me David’s there. What? Oh, no. Shit, I’m sorry. Tell his doctors that he was drugged. That’s why he banged himself up. No, no, things are under control here. No, I’m going to call his office and get his three deputies here. Yeah, I’ll speak to you soon. Sally? I don’t know. We’re going to hunt for her now.”

He hung up the phone. “David’s in a coma. They medivaced him to Portland. His condition’s stable so far. Nobody knows anything yet, just that he ran off the road into the only oak tree in his neighborhood. His wife was the first person to get to him. She said the doctors told her that if he hadn’t been transported so quickly to the hospital he probably would have died.”

“This is a nightmare,” Corey said. “The whole damned town, all of them murderers. I want to get them, Quinlan.”

“I sure want them to lose their Social Security,” Thomas said. “No means testing.”

“That wasn’t funny,” Corey said, but she laughed.

“It’s Shakespearean. You know, comedy mixed with tragedy.”

“No,” Quinlan said, “it’s evil. It didn’t start out evil, but they’ve made it all the way, haven’t they? Let’s go find my future wife.”

It was Amory St. John, but it wasn’t. She blinked up at him. No, the light here was excellent. “Doctor Beadermeyer changed your face, just like he did the man you murdered.”

“Yes. I didn’t want to be completely different, just different enough that if an old friend happened to see me he wouldn’t wonder. He did his nicks and cuts and sutures just after we got you back from The Cove that first time.” He patted his neck. “Gravity was taking a bit of a toll, but no longer. He tucked that all up, too. Would you go out with me, Sally, a young woman your age?”

She didn’t say anything. She was afraid if he hit her again she’d lose consciousness. She couldn’t let that happen. Her legs were free. The numbness was nearly gone. Surely she could run now. She had to get away from him. She had to find Quinlan and the others. What if they were already dead? No, she wouldn’t think like that. They weren’t dead. There was still time.

She looked up at him. She hated him more than she believed it possible for one human being to hate another. She wanted to break him. She wanted him to suffer, to realize he’d lost, to realize that he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. “Scott told the FBI everything you’d done. He’s cooperating with them, hoping to save his wretched little hide.”

“Who cares what the bastard does? Shut up now, and let’s get you out of here.”

He forced her down the stairs. As if he guessed she would try something, he grabbed her hair and went down behind her.

What to do?

There was a noise at the front door. His hand jerked her hair upward. She didn’t even notice. She heard him curse under his breath. She knew the moment when he drew a gun. “Let’s just hope it’s one of the old folk.”

But it wasn’t. The door slowly opened. If only they’d been upstairs no one would have heard anything. She stared at that opening door, mesmerized.

She saw Quinlan’s face. She didn’t think, just acted. She raised her arms, grabbed his hair, and dropped down. Her Amory stumbled over her head and rolled over and over down the stairs. He landed on his back, panting hard, but still conscious. Quinlan was on him in an instant, the gun pointed at his temple.

“Who the hell are you?”

“It’s Amory St. John,” Sally said. “Doctor Beadermeyer changed his face just like he did that other man’s.”

Quinlan’s SIG-sauer pressed harder against St. John’s temple. “Sally, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. My aunt’s upstairs. He was taking me away, probably to kill me. He told my aunt that he wouldn’t, but he’s a miserable liar. James, he hit her and she’s all ready to forgive him. What’s wrong with her?”