"No ma'am. Mr. Masterson has informed us that the juvenile in question has gone missing. He believes that he was taken by Ty Stillwater-and that it was at your behest."

Elizabeth straightened, folding her arms across her chest as she absorbed the barrage of information. David gone? Taken by Ty? Ridiculous.

"And what proof did Mr. Masterson offer for these outrageous claims?"

"Deputy Stillwater was at the Masterson estate immediately prior to Mr. Masterson becoming aware that the juvenile was missing."

"Hmmmm. . . ." Elizabeth stalled for time, trying to make sense of this. If Ty had David, then David was fine, but if Ty didn't-"How long?"

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

"How long between the time Deputy Stillwater was there and when Mr. Masterson notified you?"

The detective shifted uncomfortably. "Approximately three hours."

"So, there's a good chance Deputy Stillwater is innocent. And since I haven't seen him since around noon, I'm not sure why you all are here instead of searching for David."

The uniformed deputies looked away, as if studying the gingerbread on the porch.

"Ma'am," the detective said, his voice dropping as if asking a favor. "I'm sure you understand that we would like nothing more than to clear Deputy Stillwater of these allegations. And I'm sure you also understand Mr. Masterson's position in the community."

"Sounds like you all are in a pickle," she said, trying to keep the amusement from her voice. Hunter was behind this, she was certain. But why? She couldn't see what it bought him. And why that dramatic stunt, accusing her?

"Could we search the premises, verify that the juvenile is not present?"

Elizabeth thought about it. They had no probable cause, no exigent circumstances, but allowing them to search would show good faith on her part. She stood aside and gestured for them to enter. "Certainly, gentlemen. I assume that you've already searched Mr. Masterson's residence?"

"Yes, ma'am, we did."

The two deputies strode past Jeremy and Elizabeth and split up to begin searching any nooks or crannies in which a nine-year-old in a wheelchair could be hidden. The detective stayed with Elizabeth in the front foyer.

It didn't take the deputies long to come up empty. The detective slumped his shoulders.

"So, good night, then." Elizabeth opened the door for them.

"Just a minute ma'am," the detective said. "The judge asked me to call him as soon as we were done here."

"Judge Mabry?"

"Yes. Apparently Mr. Masterson's lawyer informed him of the juvenile's disappearance." He stepped out to the porch, talking into his cell, then returned a minute later. "Ma'am? The judge requests that you and Mr. Holcombe meet him at his residence to discuss this matter." He wrote down an address and handed it to Elizabeth. She didn't move. "Ah, I think he meant sooner rather than later, ma'am."

"Thank you, detective. I'll head right over."

They left and Elizabeth closed the door, collapsing against it. David missing? AJ was going to kill her.

"What can I do?" Jeremy asked.

"Get on the phone and don't you give up until you reach either Ty or AJ," she told him. "As soon as you do, call me on my cell." She glanced down at her shorts and tank top. At least she'd showered and no longer smelled of soot from the Palladinos' fire. Well, not much, anyway. "I need to go see a judge."

To my surprise, Liam opened the door to the police cruiser I sat in.

"How did you get out?" I asked him as he offered me his hand and helped me out.

"Come with me. We'll take your car." He waved to the deputies and led the way through the rain to my borrowed SUV. I wasn't too surprised when Liam took the driver's seat. He stared at me through the open door when I didn't move.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until I know what's going on," I told him.

I wasn't sure if he actually smiled or if it was just a trick of the light reflecting off the rain running down his face.

"Does this help?" He reached inside the slicker and pulled out a black wallet, flipped open to reveal a set of credentials. I leaned forward to read them.

"FBI?" Okay, maybe that did explain a lot-but not everything.

"That's what it says. Hop in. Now."

I trudged around to the passenger side, my nice leather pumps hopelessly ruined in the mud. I climbed in, and he had the car rolling before I had the door shut. He stretched his arm across my seat back, looking behind him as he quickly reversed the car's direction.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I'm taking you to the station so we can talk."

"I didn't mean to kill Vincent. There was no way I could avoid-"

He shook his head and surprised me by touching my arm. "You didn't kill Vincent. The paramedics found a gunshot wound. Said it looked close range."

Relief that I hadn't killed someone rushed over me. I took my first deep breath since hitting Vincent's body. "It had to be Paul."

"How do you know that? I didn't put everything together until today, myself."

"You suspected he wanted to kill Vincent?"

"No. We suspected Vincent or someone in his organization of plotting to commit an act of nuclear terrorism. Someone with computer skills was creating the false alarms at the plant and using them to attack their security system. They came damn close to penetrating it, too. Why did Paul kill Vincent?"

"He found out Vincent was a non-believer. Vincent was using his congregation to put pressure on Grandel to give him a share of Colleton Landing."

"So it was all about money."

"Not to Paul." I was guessing now, but it felt right. "He really does believe."

"That's what makes him so dangerous." We were making slow progress, dodging debris blown at us, with almost no visibility. Liam didn't seem as distressed by the weather as he did by Paul being on the loose.

We rounded a bend, narrowly avoiding hitting a car stopped in the road. A downed tree blocked its path, and a man was struggling to push the tree aside enough that he could avoid getting its branches tangled in the vehicle's undercarriage.

"Liam, that's Vincent's Escalade." Of course, as soon as I said it, Paul spun around and saw us. He gave the tree one last yank, moved it just enough that he might get past it, and ran back to the Escalade.

Liam pulled a gun from beneath his raincoat and opened his door. "Wait here."

"Shouldn't you call for backup?" Too late; he was gone.

Paul had made it to the Escalade's driver's door and was half inside. No way I was going to sit helpless, watching. I slid over to the driver's seat, hunched over and watching through the space between the rim of the steering wheel and the top of the dash. Not that I could see much in the blinding rain, even with the wiper blades going full tilt.

A flash of light came, aimed right at me. Then I heard the sound of a shot. And another, not as loud as the first. I craned forward, trying to see if Liam needed my help or if I should try to escape or what the hell was going on. Couldn't make out anything helpful. Finally I rolled down the window and looked out without exposing too much of my body.

"Stop where you are!" Paul's voice rang through the night. He held a pump-action shotgun in one hand and a small, bright green object in the other. "I can blow it anytime I want!"

I ducked as he shot in my direction. The SUV shook but the engine never faltered. The Escalade pulled away, sending a spray of mud and water cascading behind it.

I ran out into the rain. Liam lay in the road, his gun clenched in his hand. He pushed himself up to sitting, and by the time I'd reached him he was talking on a cell phone.

"I'm okay," he gasped. His color sure didn't make it seem that way. "Got my vest. He's headed toward the plant."

That's when I figured out what that green object in Paul's hand was. Morris's Kermit. The handheld computer that he could run the entire plant with-including bypassing the security.

"I've got to stop him," I told Liam. In the distance I heard sirens. Liam would soon be in good hands. But if Paul got inside the plant and locked it down, then no one would be getting out alive.

TWENTY-NINE.

Paul had a good head start on me. I couldn't stop thinking about how I, with Yancey's help, had convinced Owen to invite all those people inside to weather the storm.

Safest place around.

As each mental nail of guilt hammered down, my foot lowered on the gas pedal. By the time Paul made the turn into the plant's entrance, I had narrowed the gap between us to only a hundred feet.

He plowed through the outer security checkpoint, flinging the guard to the side. I didn't have time to stop and check him. All I could do was hope that Paul would forget about the tram path and turn down the winding road instead.

No such luck. He sideswiped a line of cars parked in the lot, gaining me another few feet, then bounced onto the paved path. It was barely wide enough for him to squeeze past the inner perimeter-sparks flew as he scraped the metal fence pole-but he didn't slow down.

Not enough for me to catch him, anyway. He skidded to a stop at the entrance and hopped out. A security guard ran from the checkpoint, but Paul whirled and opened up with the shotgun in one swift motion. The guard staggered and fell.

By that time, I was on his tail and was going to ram him with the SUV-couldn't think of any other way to stop him-but he turned toward me and fired.

The windshield cracked and I ducked instinctively. My SUV hit the side of the Escalade and spun out of control. My seatbelt tugged at me as gravity tried to pull the SUV into a roll and two wheels left the pavement. I yanked the wheel hard, and the car bounced back down before sputtering to a stop.

By the time I caught my breath, Paul had yanked my door open and was aiming the shotgun at me. "Welcome to the end of the world, AJ. Come on inside."

Judge Mabry lived in a modest two-story stone house that looked like it'd been standing since the Revolution. He opened the door himself, waving Elizabeth inside. The house behind him felt empty.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you and your family," she said.

He led the way into a large paneled study where Hunter waited. "No worries. I'm all alone. My wife died eight years ago now."

The judge took a seat behind the desk. The only other chair in the room was already occupied by Kyle Masterson, leaving her and Hunter standing.

"I'm sure you two appreciate the gravity of this situation," the judge started. "I'm not sure if you appreciate exactly how tired I'm becoming of this case."

Hunter spoke up. "Your Honor, we believe Sheriff's Deputy Tyrone Stillwater may be aiding and abetting Ms. Hardy in preventing my client from exercising the rights you granted him earlier today."

"That's a serious charge. What makes you think a sworn officer of the law would be involved in what you have described as a kidnapping, counselor?"

"Boy's been sweet on AJ since they were kids," Masterson burst out. They all stared at him, especially the judge.

"Excuse me, Mr. Masterson?"

The judge's tone managed to penetrate Masterson's shield of self-involvement. "Er, sorry, your Honor. I tend to call anyone my son's age 'boy.' No disrespect intended, I assure you."

"I should hope not. Deputy Stillwater's record is exemplary, and it troubles me that he is not here to answer to these allegations."

"That's the whole point. He's run off with my grandson."

If they'd been in court, Elizabeth was sure the judge would have banged his gavel. Masterson obviously had the mistaken idea that because he was inside the judge's home, he could speak candidly.

Hunter put a hand on Masterson's elbow and whispered something in his ear. Elizabeth watched, enjoying how Masterson was torpedoing his own case.

"Where is Deputy Stillwater?" the judge asked.

Elizabeth answered. "I spoke to his mother, your Honor. Apparently it's Deputy Stillwater's weekend off. She said that to the best of her knowledge, her son had gone on a fishing trip."

The judge nodded. "So no one has been able to reach him to verify that he has the child in question?"

"No, your Honor," Hunter admitted, his grip on Masterson's sleeve tightening when Masterson opened his mouth. "But if your Honor would grant a warrant to access the deputy's GPS on his phone or vehicle-"

The judge frowned. "I'm not going to violate anyone's rights based on a guess. However, I will issue an order to track his county-issued vehicle's GPS."

"What about AJ? Can't we track her?" Masterson persisted.

"Ms. Hardy." Elizabeth jerked her head up when the judge called her name. "You've been awfully quiet. Any word from your client on when she'll be returning?"

"The hurricane is hitting that area hard, your Honor. I haven't been able to reach Ms. Palladino. She doesn't even know her son is missing."

"Doesn't need to," Masterson muttered. The judge pretended not to hear, but Elizabeth caught it. "She's arranged all this."

"This whole thing is a mess. I've been told that the police are doing everything in their power to locate him and have issued an Amber Alert."

Masterson outright scoffed. "They'll protect their own. C'mon Stephen, just issue a warrant for Stillwater's arrest. We all know he did it."

The judge stood. "Mr. Masterson." Masterson jerked his head up at that, surprised by both the judge's tone and his formality. "You need to understand the severity of the charges you are bringing against a man who to the best of my knowledge is an exemplary officer of the law. And without any proof, at that."

"But Stephen-" Hunter nudged Masterson hard. "Er-I mean, your Honor-"

"No buts." It was clear the judge's patience was at an end.

Hunter turned to stare at a framed photo on the wall beside him. Six Marines in desert camouflage. He bent forward and read the caption below it. "Your Honor, is the Stillwater in this photo related to the deputy in question?"