He breathed a quick sigh of relief. She had understood.
But there was no way he could warn her of her real dan ger. Or did she know? And even if she knew, was there any thing she could do about it? He looked past Anne toward the library window framing the tall trees that bordered the woods. She had told him that she took long walks in them. It was possible she might be familiar with a way out. If they could get to the woods…He lowered his voice, urgently. “Anne—”
“Finished your little chat?”
Judd spun around. DeMarco had quietly walked into the room. Behind him came Angeli and the Vaccaro brothers.
Anne turned to her husband. “Yes,” she said. “Dr. Stevens thinks I should go to Europe with you. I’m going to take his advice.”
DeMarco smiled and looked at Judd. “I knew I could count on you, Doctor.” He was radiating charm, beaming with the expansive satisfaction of a man who has achieved total victory. It was as though the incredible energy that flowed through DeMarco could be converted at will, switched from a dark evil to an overpowering, attractive warmth. No wonder Anne had been taken in by him. Even Judd found it hard to believe at this instant that this gra cious, friendly Adonis was a cold-blooded, psychopathic murderer.
DeMarco turned to Anne. “We’ll be leaving early in the morning, darling. Why don’t you go upstairs and start packing?”
Anne hesitated. She did not want to leave Judd alone with these men. “I…” She looked at Judd helplessly. He nod ded imperceptibly.
“All right.” Anne held out her hand. “Good-bye, Dr. Stevens.”
Judd took her hand. “Good-bye.”
And this time it was good-bye. There was no way out. Judd watched as she turned, nodded at the others, and walked out of the room.
DeMarco looked after her. “Isn’t she beautiful?” There was a strange expression on his face. Love, possessiveness—and something else. Regret? For what he was about to do to Anne?
“She doesn’t know anything about all this,” Judd said. “Why don’t you keep her out of it? Let her go away.”
He watched the switch turn in DeMarco, and it was almost physical. The charm vanished, and hate began to fill the room, a current flowing from DeMarco to Judd, not touching anyone else. There was an ecstatic, almost orgiastic expression on DeMarco’s face. “Let’s go, Doctor.”
Judd looked around the room, measuring his chances of escape. Surely DeMarco would prefer not to kill him in his home. It had to be now or never. The Vaccaro brothers were watching him hungrily, hoping he would make a move. Angeli was standing near the window, his hand near his gun holster.
“I wouldn’t try it,” DeMarco said softly. “You’re a dead man—but we’re going to do it my way.”
He gave Judd a push toward the door. The others closed in on him, and they headed toward the entrance hall.
When Anne reached the upstairs hallway, she waited near the landing, watching the hall below. She drew back out of sight as she saw Judd and the others move toward the front door. She hurried into her bedroom and looked out the win dow. The men were pushing Judd into Angeli’s car.
Quickly Anne reached for the telephone and dialed opera tor. It seemed an eternity before there was an answer.
“Operator, I want the police! Hurry—it’s an emergency!”
And a man’s hand reached in front of her and pressed down the receiver. Anne gave a little scream and whirled around. Nick Vaccaro was standing over her, grinning.
Chapter Twenty-Three
ANGELI SWITCHED ON the headlights. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, but the sun was buried somewhere behind the mass of cumulus clouds that scudded overhead, pushed by the icy winds. They had been driving for over an hour.
Angeli was at the wheel. Rocky Vaccaro was seated next to him. Judd was in the back seat with Anthony DeMarco.
In the beginning Judd had kept an eye out for a passing police car, hoping that he might somehow make a desperate bid to attract attention, but Angeli was driving through little-used side roads where there was almost no traffic. They skirted the edges of Morristown, picked up Route 206 and headed south toward the sparsely populated, bleak plains of central New Jersey. The gray sky opened up and it began to pour: a cold, icy sleet that beat against the windshield like tiny drums gone mad.