"You're talking about the FBI investigation?"

"Yes." John nodded earnestly. "I'm still trying to m-make sense of it all myself."

Mitch thought, Everything he says makes sense. So why don't I believe him? Everything he says makes sense. So why don't I believe him?

The food arrived. Mitch devoured his steak hungrily. He watched John Merrivale pick at his quiche Lorraine, taking tiny bites, like a bird. When they'd finished eating, Mitch changed tack. "If you had to hazard a guess, where do you think Grace might be headed?"

"I have no idea."

"Perhaps Lenny talked to you about some of the places he used to take her?"

"No. Never."

"Somewhere romantic, somewhere that might have had significance for them as a couple..."

"I've told you," said John tersely. "Lenny didn't talk to me about things like that."

"Really?" Mitch feigned surprise. "I thought you said he was your best friend?"

"He was."

"Your best friend never talked to you about his marriage? The most important thing in his life?"

"Grace wasn't the most important thing in Lenny's life," John snapped. "I was." Catching the look on Mitch's face, he blushed and began to backtrack. "Well, not me p-personally. Quorum. Our work t-together. was." Catching the look on Mitch's face, he blushed and began to backtrack. "Well, not me p-personally. Quorum. Our work t-together. That's That's what Lenny lived for." what Lenny lived for."

It was too late. The damage was done. Mitch thought, He sounds just like Connie Gray. Like a jealous lover. He sounds just like Connie Gray. Like a jealous lover. The hairs on Mitch's forearms began to stand on end. The hairs on Mitch's forearms began to stand on end.

"Remind me, Mr. Merrivale. Where were you the day of the storm on Nantucket? The day that Lenny Brookstein went missing."

John blinked twice. "I was in Boston on business. It was a pre-arranged trip. I flew out early and I was gone all day. All my statements are in the file, if you'd like to check them."

"Thank you," said Mitch. "I'll do that."

It was only later, after he'd paid the check and John Merrivale had returned to work, that it struck him.

He didn't stammer.

When I asked him for his alibi that day, his speech was perfect.

GRACE LAY BACK ON THE BED, the little bottle of oil in her hand. It smelled heady and comforting, like rosemary wafting on a warm summer breeze. the little bottle of oil in her hand. It smelled heady and comforting, like rosemary wafting on a warm summer breeze.

The label said: WARNING: TOXIC. DO NOT INGEST. WARNING: TOXIC. DO NOT INGEST.

Grace thought about the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who had raped her.

She thought about the innocent life inside her.

She thought about Lenny. When she closed her eyes, she could hear his voice.

What about children? I suppose you'll want to be a mother?

And her own. Not really. I'm happy as we are. There's nothing missing. Not really. I'm happy as we are. There's nothing missing.

Lying on the bed, Grace realized that she had sacrificed motherhood for Lenny. She'd sacrificed everything for him, for their love, and she was still sacrificing. How could he have betrayed her with Connie? How? How? She felt angry and humiliated. She tried to hate him, to let go of his memory, but she couldn't. She felt angry and humiliated. She tried to hate him, to let go of his memory, but she couldn't.

It's no use. I still love him. I'll always love him.

She opened the bottle and swallowed the bitter liquid.

I wonder how long it will take.

"YOU OKAY IN THERE, LADY?"

The super was knocking on Grace's door.

"Do you need a doctor?"

Grace couldn't hear him. Pain tore through her body like a giant razor blade, slicing into her flesh, her nerves. She screamed. Blood poured out of her. Her limbs began to shake and dance as the seizure took hold of her body, contorting her arms and legs like a s.a.d.i.s.tic puppeteer.

The super unlocked the door. "Jesus Christ. I'm calling an ambulance!"

Grace didn't hear him. She was deafened by the sound of her own screams.

TWENTY-SEVEN.

SHE HEARD VOICES.

"Linda? Linda!"

"Still no response. She's flatlining."

"Shock her again."

Grace wondered, Who's Linda? Who's Linda? She felt the weight of the paddles pressing on her ribs, then an indescribable pain, like a kebab skewer being driven into her heart. She felt the weight of the paddles pressing on her ribs, then an indescribable pain, like a kebab skewer being driven into her heart.

She fainted.

SHE WAS IN A PALE GREEN room with a gray, checkered ceiling. There were needles in her arms. Someone was talking to her. A nurse. room with a gray, checkered ceiling. There were needles in her arms. Someone was talking to her. A nurse.

"Linda?"

Grace remembered. She'd had to abandon Lizzie Woolley and move on to another of her fake ident.i.ties. I'm Linda Reynolds. I'm a thirty-two-year-old waitress from Chicago. I'm Linda Reynolds. I'm a thirty-two-year-old waitress from Chicago.

"Welcome back." The nurse smiled. "Do you know where you are, Linda?"

"Hospital." Grace's throat was so dry and sore, the word was barely audible. "Water."

"Sure." The nurse pressed a call b.u.t.ton. "Just hold on a couple more minutes. The doctor will know whether it's safe for you to drink right now. He's on his way. Is there anyone else I can call for you, honey? A relative or a friend?"

Grace shook her head. n.o.body. n.o.body.

She fell back to sleep.

SHE WAS IN E EAST H HAMPTON AT a July Fourth party. She was six years old. Her father had scooped her up in his arms and placed her on his shoulders. Grace felt like a princess in her powder-blue, ruffled party dress, with red, white and blue ribbons in her blond hair. a July Fourth party. She was six years old. Her father had scooped her up in his arms and placed her on his shoulders. Grace felt like a princess in her powder-blue, ruffled party dress, with red, white and blue ribbons in her blond hair.

One of her dad's friends called out to them. "Hey, Cooper. Who's that gorgeous young lady you're with?"

"Only the prettiest girl in New York." Cooper Knowles grinned. "When you get married, Gracie, it'll be to a king. You'll have the world at your feet, my angel. The world at your feet!" He tugged on her new blue party shoes. Grace laughed.

The laugh turned into Lenny's laugh. They were on the terrace at their home in Palm Beach. Lenny was reading the newspaper.

"Look at this, Gracie." He chuckled. "You see what they're calling me. 'Leonard Brookstein, King of Wall Street!' How does it feel to be married to a king?"

"It feels wonderful, my darling. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Linda. LINDA."

The spell was broken.

"This is Dr. Brewer. He's on our psychiatric team. He's just gonna have a little chat with you, okay?"

DAYS Pa.s.sED. DOCTORS AND PSYCHIATRISTS CAME and went. DIY abortions were a dime a dozen, sadly, but Linda Reynolds's case was unusual enough to attract attention. and went. DIY abortions were a dime a dozen, sadly, but Linda Reynolds's case was unusual enough to attract attention.

"Pennyroyal poisoning? What the f.u.c.k is that?"

"Some crazy herb. Women used it for abortions in medieval times. But it's gruesome. Ingesting the essential oil can cause renal failure, acute uterine hemorrhage. Seizures."

The doctors told Grace it was a miracle she had lived. The pennyroyal had done its job of killing her baby, but her liver would be permanently weakened. Grace didn't care. She tried to cry for the baby, to feel sad for it, but she couldn't even do that. She knew if she looked back, she would crumble. All that mattered was that she was alive, recovering, growing stronger. She could feel it in her body. Soon she would be able to get out of here. Her work was not yet done.

IN THE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR, JUAN B BENITEZ whispered to his friend Jose Gallo. whispered to his friend Jose Gallo.

"Es ella. Estoy seguro."

Jose poked his head around the door of Grace's room. "No way."

Juan and Jose were both janitors. Not much exciting ever happened during their workdays, mopping the hospital halls. But that was no reason for Juan to go making things up.

"Ella es horrible. Ugly," said Jose. "Grace Brookstein Ugly," said Jose. "Grace Brookstein era hermosa era hermosa."

Juan was insistent. "Les digo que, es ella. Quieres que la recompesa o no?" "Les digo que, es ella. Quieres que la recompesa o no?"

Jose thought about it. He did did want the reward. Badly. But he and his family were all in the States illegally. He didn't want to be the guy who called the NYPD out on a wild-goose chase. want the reward. Badly. But he and his family were all in the States illegally. He didn't want to be the guy who called the NYPD out on a wild-goose chase.

He looked at the patient again. With her newly shorn, peroxide-blond hair, her pain-lined face and cold, listless eyes, she had none of the radiance of the beautiful young woman he'd seen on TV. And yet there was a resemblance...

THE DOCTORS HAD TOLD G GRACE SHE could walk around the room if she felt up to it. The electrolyte drip had been removed from her arm. Gingerly, Grace swung her feet to the floor. After a week in bed, her legs felt like Jell-O. The pennyroyal had given her seizures, one of which had torn a muscle in her calf. She hobbled to the window. could walk around the room if she felt up to it. The electrolyte drip had been removed from her arm. Gingerly, Grace swung her feet to the floor. After a week in bed, her legs felt like Jell-O. The pennyroyal had given her seizures, one of which had torn a muscle in her calf. She hobbled to the window.

In the parking lot below, a young couple was taking their newborn baby home. The father was wrestling with a car seat, a look of terrified anxiety on his face, while his wife calmly looked on, rocking the child in her arms. Grace smiled sadly.

What a lovely, normal, happy family. I'll never have that.

There was no time to dwell on her wistfulness. A police car pulled into the lot, then another, then another. Suddenly there were cops everywhere, swarming into the building like termites. Grace felt her heart rate jump. Are they looking for me? Are they looking for me?

A blond head emerged from one of the squad cars. Even before he looked up, Grace recognized his stocky, football player's physique. Mitch Connors. So they Mitch Connors. So they are are here for me. here for me.

Adrenaline coursed through her body.

Think! There must be a way out.