"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 medi-vaced 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.
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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 Beader-meyer 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 tc 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.
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"Who the hell are you?"
"It's Amory St. John," Sally said. "Doctor Beader-meyer 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?"
"I'll get her," Thomas said. "Don't worry, Sally. I won't hurt her."
Sally got to her feet. She was sore, her scalp hurt, and she felt better than she'd ever felt in her life.
"James," she said, "I'm so glad to see you. You, too, Corey. Amabel said the three of you were in that shed behind Doc Spiver's cottage."
"Yeah," Quinlan said, "but we're special agents. We got out. Well, actually, it's Corey who's the hero.
You know, Sally, I noticed a gray hair. Let Corey untie your hands."
When she had feeling back in her wrists, she went and stood over the man who'd been her father for so many years, the man she'd hated for so long, the man who hated her. He was on the floor, at her feet.
She got down on her knees. She smiled. "Now it's my chance to tell you what I think of you. You're pathetic. You're nothing. You'll never have a hold over anybody again for as long as you live. I hate you.
More than that, I despise you." She drew back her fist and slammed it into his nose.
"God, I've wanted to do that for such a long time." She rubbed her knuckles.
He was quivering with rage. His nose began to bleed. He quieted only when he felt the gun press still harder against his temple.
“You want to know something else? Noelle is ecstatic that you're gone. She hates you as much as I do.
She's free of you. I'm free of you. Soon you'll be in a cage where you belong."
She stared down at him, at the blood seeping out of his nose, at the rage in his eyes. "Fucking bastard."
She rose and kicked him in the ribs.
"Shut up, you crazy bitch. Hey, you're a cop. Don't let her beat me."
"I'll let her shoot you in the balls if she wants to," Quinlan said. "Sally? Would you like to shoot him?"
"No, not now. Well, just not this exact minute. You know what, old man? Noelle looks utterly beautiful.
I'll bet she'll be going out again very soon. She'll have any man she wants."
"She won't dare. She'd know I'd kill her if she even looked at another man. Yes, I'd kill both of them."
"You aren't going to kill anybody," Sally said, eyes mean and bright, joy in her voice. "You're going to jail for the rest of your miserable life." She patted his face. "You're an old man. Think of how much faster you'll sag and wrinkle in prison."
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"I won't go to prison. God, I'm going to get you. I played with you for six months. I should have strangled you."
"Just try it, you old bastard." She smiled down at him, lifted her foot, and landed it square in his groin He screamed, clutching himself "Well done, Sally," Quinlan said. "You sure you don't want to shoot him?"
There was a shot from upstairs.
32
QUINLAN STRUCK AMORY St. John hard on his jaw.
One down, he thought, as St. John's head lolled to the side. They had only one weapon-Quinlan's gun, taken off old Purn Davies, the one that Quinlan had pressed to Amory St. John's temple.
When Thomas had gone upstairs unarmed, Sally hadn't thought, hadn't imagined that her aunt could shoot someone.
Suddenly Corey moved like lightning, throwing herself into the shadowed recess just to the side at the base of the stairs.
They watched in silence as Thomas, his arm bleeding rivulets through his fingers, came down the stairs, Amabel behind him with a pistol to the back of his head.
"Throw that gun toward the living room, Mr. Quinlan."
Instead, Quinlan slid it across the highly polished oak floor right toward the spot where Corey was crouched.
"You don't have such a good aim, do you? No matter. Now, move away from him. That's right. Go stand by
Sally.
"You, sir, keep moving or I'll shoot you in the back of your neck. You wouldn't like that, would you?"