There were at least thirty people standing in front of the cottage, all of them armed.

Reverend Hal Vorhees shouted, “Throw down your gun, Mr. Quinlan, or we’ll shoot the women.”

Well, damn, Quinlan thought. At least the old folk hadn’t automatically shot them down when they’d come out of Amabel’s cottage. All the bravado about preferring a gunshot to a fire—was bullshit. Nobody wanted to die. Now they had some time—at least he prayed they did.

Quinlan nodded to Corey. She threw his SIG-sauer right at Reverend Hal Vorhees. It landed close to his feet.

“Good, now lay that madman down, Amabel next to him. We don’t care what happens to him. He’s evil and a blight. He’s nothing more than a filthy traitor. He made Amabel turn on us. Come on now, the four of you come with us.”

“We’re going to a church service, Reverend?”

“Just shut up, Mr. Quinlan,” Hunker Dawson said.

“A helicopter will be arriving in just about five minutes, Hal,” Quinlan said after he’d dropped St. John to the ground, landing him in the middle of Amabel’s daffodils.

“We called the FBI office in Portland from Doc Spiver’s cottage. Sheriff David Mountebank’s deputies will be here soon as well.”

Actually the deputies should have been here long ago. Where the devil were they?

“No, we took care of the deputies,” Gus Eisner said. “Come now. We don’t want to waste any more time. You’re lying about that helicopter. Besides, it don’t make no difference. You’ll be gone by the time the Feds arrive.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” Sally said. “Never. Don’t you have any idea at all what you’re dealing with?”

“Look at us, Sally,” Sherry Vorhees said. “Just look at all these nice old people. We wouldn’t even kill mosquitoes, now would we? Who would deal with us? Why, there’s nothing to deal with. I’d invite them all in for some of the World’s Greatest Ice Cream.”

“It’s gone far beyond that now,” Sally said, stepping forward.

Reverend Hal Vorhees immediately raised his gun higher. “Listen, to me,” Sally went on. “Everyone knows that James and the other agents are here. They’ll mow you down. Another thing, they’ll dig up every grave in the cemetery and they’ll find out those are all the missing people reported over the past three years. It’s all over. Please, be reasonable about this. Give it up.”

“Shut up, Sally,” said Hunker Dawson. “All of you, enough of this bullshit. Let’s go.”

“Yes, sure thing, Hunker,” Quinlan said. They had more time. How much more, he had no idea. But even one more minute meant hope.

They walked like condemned prisoners in front of the mob. He was aware of the unreality about the whole situation even as he felt fear seeping deep into him.

Quinlan said over his shoulder, “What will you preach on this Sunday, Hal? The rewards of evil? The spiritual high of mass murder? No, I’ve got it. It’ll be the wages of trying to bring justice to people who were brutally murdered for the amount of cash they carried.”

Quinlan staggered from the blow on his shoulder.

“That’s enough,” Gus Eisner said. “Just shut up. You’re upsetting the ladies.”

“I’m not upset,” Corey said. “I’d like to pull out all your teeth and listen to you scream.”

“I don’t have any teeth,” Hunker said. “That ain’t a good punishment for this group.”

What to say to that? Quinlan thought and winked at Corey. She looked furious. Thomas was walking on his own, but Corey was helping him. His arm wasn’t bleeding so much now, but the blood loss was taking its toll, that and shock.

Sally was trudging along beside him, looking pale and very thoughtful. He said out of the side of his mouth, real low, so maybe all those old people wouldn’t hear him, “Hold up, Sally. We’ll figure out something. Hell, I could take at least a dozen of the old guys, no problem. Could you pound the old ladies?”

That made her smile. “Yeah, I could pound them into the dust. But I want to go back and get Amory St. John. They just left him and Amabel there, James, both of them. They’ll get away. My aunt, well, I don’t know, but she’s not quite the aunt I’d hoped she was.”

An understatement, Quinlan thought. Another blow for her, another person she’d believed she could trust had betrayed her. Thank God her mother had come through for her. He thought he just might come to like Noelle St. John a lot in the future. If he had a future.