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“Lesley,” Dysart said, “are you all—”

“Shut up,” Landry said. He looked at Lesley. “Who is he?”

Lesley licked her lips. She looked at her uncle, then back at Landry.

“I’m her uncle,” Dysart said, his voice full of impatience.

An ironic grin creased Landry’s face. “You’re the bank president.”

It was as much a statement as a question. Dysart just glared at him.

“Then you’ll be interested in what we were just talking about,” Landry said. “Lesley here was trying to convince me that she knows how to fix the problems at your bank.”

“Tim was behind it, not Rob,” Lesley said. “He told me the keyword and—”

Landry whipped the gun around to point at Lesley.

“Did I say you could talk?” he said.

“I want to hear what she has to say,” Dysart said.

Landry’s smile didn’t touch his eyes.

“Oh, you’ll hear all right. If you’re stupid enough to stumble in where you don’t belong, then you can stay and watch. Lesley and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

A stab of fear shot through Lesley’s gut.

Dysart started from the wall.

“But there’s no need to—”

The gun flashed in Dysart’s direction again.

“I’ll decide what’s needed and what’s not,” Landry said.

He backed toward the still-open door and indicated with his gun that Dysart should walk toward the table.

“Grab a chair and have a seat,” Landry said.

Landry started to reach behind himself for the door. Lesley’s mouth dropped open when she saw Tim appear outside the doorway and level his shotgun at the middle of Landry’s back.

“Move and you’re dead,” Tim said.

Landry froze. His head was twisted around far enough so he could see the shotgun.

“Drop it,” Tim said.

Landry’s mouth curled into a mask of hatred. He didn’t move.

“So I shoot you instead,” Tim said. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Landry bent over slowly and placed the nine-millimeter at his feet.

When Landry was upright again Tim said, “Now kick it away from yourself.”

Landry did so. Leo gave chase as the pistol skittered across the linoleum and ended up behind Rob’s chair. Once he caught up with it, however, the kitten gave it a tentative sniff and backed away without touching it.

“Move away from the door,” Tim said.

Landry started walking toward Lesley.

“Stay away from her,” Tim yelled, his words slurring slightly.

Landry stopped.

“Over by the wall.”

Landry did as he was told. The look on his face reminded Lesley of a cornered Doberman waiting for the right moment to attack.

Lesley’s heart lurched when Tim’s toe caught on the door sill as he started inside. He stumbled and the tip of the shotgun dipped toward the floor. Before Landry could move, however, Tim recovered his balance and once again pointed the barrel at him.

Tim surveyed the room. His face reddened when he looked at Lesley. He jerked his head in Landry’s direction. “He give you that bruise?”

Lesley said nothing. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she made Tim any angrier than he already looked. And what if Landry regained the upper hand?

“Are you going to untie us, or what?” Rob said.

Tim ignored him. Instead his eyes narrowed as he glared at Landry.

Dysart started toward Rob. “I’ll do it,” he said, but stopped when Tim swung the shotgun around at him.

“No way,” Tim said. “He can stay right where he is. Untie Lesley.”

Dysart looked at Tim as if trying to determine his intentions.

“Do it!” Tim said.

Lesley was soon free from the chair. She rubbed her wrists as she stood up, unsure what to do.

Tim looked at her and said, “You get behind me.”

Lesley blinked. Her heart hammered as she jerked her head sideways to look at Rob, then back at Tim.

“Tim,” she said, “please.”

“Don’t argue with me.”

“But Rob is still—”

“Get behind me or I’ll try this shotgun out on Rob.”

Lesley swallowed dryly. The crazed look in Tim’s eyes left her with no doubt that he meant what he said. She scuttled around the room in a semi-circle, staying as far from Landry as possible.

“Your turn,” Tim said to Landry. He indicated the chair Lesley had just vacated. “Plant yourself down.”

Dysart backed away from the chair. Landry stayed where he was.

“At three I shoot,” Tim said, sighting down the barrel at Landry. “One … two …”

“All right, all right,” Landry said.

He walked over and sat.

Tim moved to the table, picked up the duct tape and tossed it over Landry’s head to Dysart.

“You can do the honors,” Tim said.

Dysart wound a couple of half-hearted loops around Landry’s chest and arms.

“More,” Tim said. “Down near his wrists, too.”

Dysart went to work again, then backed away when Tim said, “Okay, that’s enough.”

Tim strode over and smashed the stock of the shotgun across the side of Landry’s head. Lesley’s hands flew to her mouth as Landry absorbed the impact with a grunt.

“That’s for hurting my girl,” Tim said.

My girl. A cold dread swept through Lesley.

Tim looked at Dysart.

“And I owe you one, Stan. I was sitting by the highway trying to decide what to do when I saw you go whizzing by. I just had to know why you were headed way out here. Only thing I could figure, you must have thought you were going to save Lesley from disgracing herself with the likes of me.”

“Something like that,” Dysart said, his mouth a straight line of malice.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Tim said, “cause I’m going to take her with me anyway.”

“No,” Rob and Lesley exclaimed at the same time.

“Sorry, buddy,” Tim said to Rob. “No way I’m letting you win this time.”

Lesley’s entire body went rigid as Tim started backing in her direction. He reached out to take her by the wrist. Her paralysis evaporated at his touch. She realized in a flash there was no way to take the shotgun from Tim or to help Rob. But she couldn’t go with Tim.

Wrenching her wrist from his grasp, she bolted outside and sprinted for the trees.

“Lesley,” Tim called out. “Stop.”

Her feet flew. Within seconds she was past the grass and into the woods.

* * *

Rob twisted in his chair, yanking frantically at the duct tape as he watched Tim disappear out the door after Lesley. Dysart appeared to be stunned as he stared at the empty doorway.

“Stan, get me out of this,” Rob said.

“Bad idea, mister bank president,” Landry said.

Dysart looked back and forth nervously a couple of times between Rob and Landry before walking over and pulling at the tape around Rob’s waist. Landry scowled at him. When Dysart made it far enough, Rob clutched at the remnants and ripped them off.

Rob pounced on the nine-millimeter that lay behind his seat and hobbled out the door with it. He did a complete lap around the cabin, stopping several times to listen and peer at the woods. There were no sounds other than crickets and rustling leaves. The moon cast the clearing into stark relief, but he couldn’t penetrate the blackness beyond the tree line. He couldn’t tell which direction Tim and Lesley might have gone.

Shaking with fury and frustration, he went back into the cabin.

“… but you promised you wouldn’t—”

Dysart stopped abruptly when he saw Rob.

“There was no sign of them,” Rob said.

He stopped in front of Landry, who looked up at him with defiance. Suddenly the opportunity to vent his fury sat within reach. Rob was struck by a need to smash Landry’s face, to avenge the humiliation.