THE COVE. Catherine Coulter

She couldn’t stand up because her legs were numb. Amabel dropped to her knees and massaged her ankles and calves. “Is that better, Sally?”

“Why didn’t you just kill me before? Why go through this charade with Amabel?”

“Be quiet, you little bitch.”

“You swear you won’t hurt her, Amory?”

“I told you,” he said, so impatient that Sally wondered how Amabel couldn’t hear it, couldn’t know that he was ready to strike out. “I won’t kill her.”

When she could stand and walk, Amory took her arm and pulled her out of the small bedroom. “Stay here, Ammie,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back shortly and then we’ll leave.”

Sally said, “While you’re waiting, Amabel, call Noelle. Tell her how you let him kill me. Yeah, tell her that, Amabel.”

He pulled her out of Amabel’s sight, then sent his elbow into her ribs. She doubled over, gasping with the pain. He yanked her back up.

“Keep your mouth shut, Sally, or I’ll just keep hurting you. Do you want that?”

“What I want,” she said when she could finally speak, “is for you to die. Very slowly and very painfully.”

“Not in your lifetime, my dear,” he said, and laughed.

“They’ll get you. There’s no way you can escape, not with the FBI after you.”

He was still laughing softly, highly amused with her. It made no sense. Then he walked beneath a strong light at the head of the stairs and stopped. He laughed again. “Look, Sally. Look at me”

She did. It wasn’t Amory St. John.

The phone service was still on. Thomas called the Portland office. When he hung up, he said, “They’re bringing a helicopter up here. Thirty minutes, tops.” “What about David?” Corey said.

“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. 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.

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