Rage rattled in his chest. He glared at himself in the mirror, seeing nothing but a grizzled man, his eyebrows moldy gray bundles of straw, white hair tufted and wild.

He had not not seen a book out of place in the library last night. Margaret was making things up just to confuse him. seen a book out of place in the library last night. Margaret was making things up just to confuse him.

How dare she question his abilities? Even worse, his motives?

Leland Hugh materialized in his thoughts. Hugh in the fog, lost. Turning into him.

"Aah!" Darell thwacked the mirror with his palm and wrenched away. Bent over his cane, he fumed at the beige tile floor. Hugh was turning into more of a mystery than ever. Darell's last hope for finishing his book could well lie in Craig Barlow's ma.n.u.script. Tonight before he trapped the man if he could just glean some insight ...

Hugh's voice echoed in his head. Joined by Margaret and Kaitlan and Craig. Soon all four clamored, jumbling Darell's brain. Concentration started slipping, slipping ...

Darell buffed his face. What was that first thing he had to do?

His eyes rose to twin blue towels hanging on their gold rack. He frowned at them, through them ...

Tonight's meeting. He had to call Craig to set it up.

Just like that a moving pathway in Darell's mind cleared. He stepped upon it. But as he rode along, purpose morphed to fear. What this day would demand of him.

At the sink he splashed his face, dried his hands, his movements jerky, nervous. By the time he left the bathroom his heart thwacked his ribs.

Ridiculous. This is only the phone call.

Margaret had moved across the hall to plant herself in the office doorway. Her face still scrunched with worry, one hand pressed to the side of her neck. "D., I'm sorry. I'm just ... scared."

"You ought to be. Sorry, I mean." He made a move to brush around her but she stayed firm. He threw her a withering look. "Let me by."

She slapped both palms against the doorposts, blocking the entrance. "Remember your book Over the Waters Over the Waters? About the couple on a cruise ship and the wife disappeared?"

"No. I don't. Now move before I make you."

"One of the stewards was involved. The husband knew it and set this elaborate plan to catch him. And the whole thing went awry-" "That's a story, Margaret!" He banged his cane so hard against the floor shock waves jittered up his arm. "This is real!"

"I know. But what if-"

"Get out of my way!"

Movement in Darell's peripheral vision turned his head. Kaitlan stood halfway down the hall, shoulders drawn inward, round-eyed. Her clothes looked thrown on, her hair mussed.

Margaret followed his gaze. The vibrations from her smoothed out, as if she'd been caught making a scene. Her hands fell from the doorposts. "Good morning, Kaitlan." She forced a wan smile.

Kaitlan approached warily, head half turned, looking at them askance. "What's going on?"

Darell glared sideways at Margaret. "We were just discussing today's plans."

"Nothing's changed, right? We're going through with this insanity?" Kaitlan pulled up beside him, hugging herself. Her cheek mixed deeper shades of purple and red, streaks down to her chin. The sc.r.a.pes she'd taken from her fall stood out angry and rough.

Margaret sucked in air at the sight of her.

Kaitlan touched her fingers to the area and winced. "I know. I look terrible."

Her vulnerability ripped at Darell's chest. What Craig had done to her. And her cheek screamed only of the surface pain.

He would get her out of this.

"Absolutely no change, Kaitlan." Darell planted a hand on Margaret's shoulder and firmly pushed her aside. "I'm calling Craig right now as a matter of fact. And I need total silence"-he hitched his eyebrows in a glower at Margaret-"from the two of you."

Nose in the air, he thumped his way across the office with rank determination. His heart rat-tatted-and that infuriated him.

He reached his desk, feeling like a prisoner approaching the noose.

CHAPTER forty-six

Darell sank into his desk chair and surveyed the phone. He could feel the eyes of the two women at his back. Margaret and her dread of his failure. Kaitlan's life dependence on his success.

Calm yourself, man. Collect your thoughts.

He picked up the receiver. Mentally he scrabbled for last night's reasoning about his plan.

How serendipitous that Craig Barlow had possessed the nerve to hack into his ma.n.u.script. For once being thought old and infirm had worked to Darell's advantage. The kid wouldn't have dared such a thing three years ago, when Darell's work was still being published.

Darell half turned. "Kaitlan, do you know the number to the Gayner Police?"

"No. I would just call Craig on his cell phone."

"Okay, doesn't matter."

But somehow it did. That small unknown-a portent.

Darell dialed 411 and requested the number to the Gayner Police Station.

"Is this an emergency?" the operator asked.

Only my granddaughter's life. "No, the front desk will be fine." "No, the front desk will be fine."

As the computer-generated voice intoned the seven digits, he wrote them down, then disconnected. He stared at the receiver in his hand.

For Kaitlan.

Darell dialed the number.

"Gayner Police." A woman's voice.

"Good morning. This is Darell Brooke. I'm trying to get through to Officer Craig Barlow."

Stunned hesitation vibrated the line. "The Darell Brooke? The author?" Darell Brooke? The author?"

In that inopportune moment it all flooded back. The adulation. The reputation he'd once wielded. How he missed it.

"That's correct."

"Wow! h.e.l.lo! I've read all all your books. This is amazing; how your books. This is amazing; how are are you?" you?"

"I'm well, thank you."

"That's great. Great! Are you writing again? I can't wait to read a new book from you."

That would make two of us.

"Yes, I'm writing. In fact, that's why I'm trying to reach Officer barlow. I need to ask him some research questions about police procedure."

Silence behind him. He pictured Margaret and Kaitlan holding their breath.

"Oh." Hesitation coated the woman's response. "Uh, you sure you don't mean the chief?"

"No. His son, Craig."

"Oh, okay. He's on patrol. I can contact him with your phone number. I'm sure he'll call soon as he can. He's a fan too."

No kidding.

"That would be great." Darell gave the woman his number. "Tell him I'm stuck on this ma.n.u.script until my questions are answered. I'd appreciate talking to him as soon as possible about setting up a meeting for tonight."

"I will. So nice to talk to you!"

"Thanks. You too."

Darell hung up the phone-and exhaled. His hands trembled.

"What happened?" Margaret blurted.

Darell started. Turning stiffly he threw Margaret a look. "I left a message, all right? That's all I can do at the moment. Now stop gnashing your teeth and fix my breakfast."

He hoped he could eat.

Margaret's hand rose to her chest, all argument beaten out of her. Besides, it was too late. Events had been put in motion.

"I ... Okay." She gave Kaitlan's shoulder a harried pat as she drifted away.

Kaitlan sidled over the threshold, her arms still clutched and brows knitted. She leaned against the wall, eyes begging Darell to tell her all would be well.

He firmed his expression into that of a poker player sure to win. "Trap set." One side of his mouth tugged upward. "Now for the prey to come along."

CHAPTER forty-seven

Craig smacked his cell phone shut and hurled it into the pa.s.senger seat.

Linda at the station's front desk had been so excited about Darell Brooke's call. One day ago, he would have been too.

This "research" meeting was a sure setup.

What in the world did the old man think he could do?

Blood simmering, Craig stared out the windshield of his patrol car at Kaitlan's garage apartment. Morning sun filtered through the trees, spotting the front stoop, the gray-painted wood. Birds chirped in the forest, and a squirrel scampered by, cheeks bulging. The sun went down, the sun came up, forest creatures slept and woke. How perfectly the world continued to turn.

Nature taunted him. His containment had failed.

Sudden rage drove his flattened palm against the steering wheel. Again and again he hit, cursing with each blow, pulse pounding in his head and heels dug into the floor. His life was unraveling. Fate threatened to swallow him whole, and he hadn't. Been. Able. To. Contain it! hadn't. Been. Able. To. Contain it!

Spent, he threw himself back against the seat, chest puffing.

His police radio crackled. Dispatch was calling an officer out on a domestic disturbance. The exchange brought Craig back to focus. He closed his eyes. He had to pull himself together.

Clamping down his breathing, he listened to the skid of his heart.

It was bad enough that Kaitlan had escaped last night. Even worse when he'd returned to find she'd sneaked back and s.n.a.t.c.hed her purse and toiletries. He should have known then she wouldn't show at work this morning. But he'd clung to hope.

Now this.

Craig pressed his knuckles against his forehead. Now the containment would be harder. Messier. He could get caught.

No. He would never be caught.

Their bodies must not be found.

Craig hadn't thought Kaitlan would go to her grandfather. Clearly, they were estranged. He'd talked about Darell Brooke numerous times, trying to draw her out, but she'd never admitted their relation. And Craig hadn't wanted to admit how thoroughly he'd checked up on her when they first started dating. Computers could do a lot these days. He'd been amazed to discover her connection to Darell Brooke. But Kaitlan had stuck to her story-she had no family. Her only living relatives, including her mother, had thrown her out of their lives.

Recently, when Craig's father had run Kaitlan Sering through the system, he hadn't dug past her mother's name change to discover Kaitlan's connection to Brooke. Craig had kept the knowledge to himself, afraid that his father or Hallie would let it slip to Kaitlan.

How glad he was of that.

More chatter from dispatch. Craig's unit was being summoned for back-up to the domestic disturbance call. He radioed that he was on his way. How normal his voice sounded.