not a natural gas explosion.

Afterward, he would change into the benign salesman he had ID for and fly to New York, and from there he’d make his way to his apartment in Paris for a well-deserved rest.

After no more than a minute in the basement, Styer went back up into the kitchen, set down his Ruger, covered it with the maid’s tabloid, and took off the doctor’s wide-brimmed Stetson.

Opening his valise, Styer lifted out the cell-phone remote trigger and slipped it into the left pocket of his cardigan. He also removed the other tools he would need when Massey showed up.

Walking to the front, Styer looked out the open shades of a window and saw the cruiser at the base of the driveway.

He thought he heard the creaking of floorboards and listened, trying to get the direction of the sound.

119

Alexa worked to free her mouth, realizing that if Styer’s disguised voice was carrying through the floor that her cheek was pressed against, then he would hear any loud movement from the room above. He was talking to someone, but since nobody had come in, she was pretty sure he was on the telephone.

She looked up at the children and saw that Cyn had stopped crying and was watching her. Hamp continued to wriggle and she shook her head, hoping that he would understand that she wanted him to be still. If he fell off the bed, Styer would come up and see the tape, which was beginning to roll toward her mouth.

She saw Hamp stop moving and look at her. Moving faster, she felt the tape stick fast and she pressed her cheek against the floor and pressed down hard as she moved her head. The tape stuck fast to the floor and remained there as she moved her face as far as she could move without rolling.

“Guys,” she whispered. “Hamp, be still. He can hear us.”

Hamp shook his head and started wriggling again.

While she was trying to figure out the next step, Hamp sat up and brought his hands around from behind him. Loose cord hung from his left wrist until he pulled it off and removed the duct tape from his face. As soon as it came free, he smiled at Alexa.

“The Great Mephisto,” he mouthed, taking a bow.

Alexa smiled.

Cyn nodded. Hamp tore off the tape that was binding his sister.

Okay, Alexa thought, as she watched Hamp in his pajamas and magician’s cape slip from the bed, cross the floor carefully, kneel behind her, and start untying the cord knots on the cuffs. Seconds later, she brought her hands through and looked gleefully at the cuffs as she untied her ankles. Hamp reached to the lowest shelf, put something in the pocket of his pajama shirt, and released his sister. She slowly sat up.

Alexa managed to untie the cord around her ankles and stood. Hamp reached out, touched her wrists, took a bent paper clip from his pocket, and in three or four seconds, opened her handcuffs. He bowed again and tossed the impromptu key onto the bed.

Alexa motioned to the children to stay in their places and moved to the window. She heard a door close downstairs and looked out the window, which she unlocked and slowly opened. Looking out through the sleet, she saw headlights approaching from about half a mile away. She knew she had to move fast. The porch roof angled gently away from the house, and she decided that it hadn’t yet collected enough ice to prevent an escape down the trellis, which she believed would support their weight. She turned to the children and beckoned them to move toward her. She turned back, slipped out of the window, and found herself face-to-face with a dark figure standing on the porch roof. A firm, wet hand covered her mouth to keep her from screaming.

“It’s okay, Lex,” Winter whispered.

She saw the headlights of the Jeep that was stopped beside the cruiser.

Alexa climbed outside and Winter handed her his coat. As he climbed carefully and silently into the room, gun in hand, Alexa saw the aluminum bat in Hamp’s hands. When he realized there was no danger, he lowered it from a striking position and set it on the bed. He handed his sister a parka that had been hung on his bedpost by its hood.

She whispered to Winter, “Styer killed Roy and the other deputy. And he said there’s a remotely triggered bomb planted downstairs in the basement.” The children climbed out carefully to join her in the freezing rain.

Winter grabbed the bat and told her, “Be careful, it’s slippery. Get the kids down the road to the cruiser. Tell Leigh not to stop until she gets them to Brad’s office. Help’s on the way out. I’ll throw the bat downstairs when I find Styer.”

“He’s disguised as Dr. Barnett.”

“We know,” Winter said. “Brad figured his father knew Ruger is a she.”

120

After Winter made sure Alexa and the Gardner children were on the ground, he slipped rapidly down the rear service steps and peered into the kitchen, where the tip of a silencer was visible under an open tabloid on the table. He saw what appeared to be a wide blood smear leading to a utility room, but he couldn’t take time to look further. Roy Bishop and the other deputy were dead, and most likely Estelle was too.

With the cocked Reeder.45 in hand, safety off and armed with hollow-points, Winter looked down the hallway and moved back out of sight behind the door to the den. By looking at the mirror on a coat tree, Winter could see down the hallway to Styer standing near the front door. Although he knew Styer’s gun was in the kitchen, he figured the professional was armed and that the smaller gun was a backup.

Winter took his cell phone out and waited to press SEND until he was ready. Brad had given him his cell phone with the doctor’s number already keyed in as a way to talk to Styer if it became necessary.

When Styer took out the phone, Winter stepped out thirty feet behind him and aimed at Styer’s head. He assumed since Styer was wearing a coat inside the house he was wearing a ballistic vest under it.

Winter had a clean shot, and a bullet fired from the Reeder would blow a large hole in the mass murderer’s head. He had pictured this moment for years, and he knew he should kill Styer now like the mad dog he was. Winter, standing there, with Styer unaware and empty-handed, could not squeeze the trigger, the reality was so abhorrent.

“Hands behind your head, Styer!” Winter yelled out. “Now!”

“You going to arrest me, Deputy Massey?” Styer asked calmly. “Or shoot me in the back?”

Styer sprang through the living room door, leaving Winter wondering if he’d just made the last mistake of his life.

121

From behind a tree, a scoped AR-15 at the ready, Brad watched the figures of Alexa, Cyn, and Hamp leave the cover of the bushes and run down toward the cruiser and the Jeep. The young deputy sheriff who’d been at the roadblock was behind another tree on the opposite side of the yard, armed with a riot gun.

Brad used a flashlight to set the deputy in motion, and then ran to cover the rear of the house from the southwest corner as Winter had said he should. Winter had told them not to enter until he signaled that it was safe to do so, and to shoot Styer down if he left the house. Winter had wanted a clean area of operation where the only other person moving around inside the house would be Styer.

Help was on the way, but the cruisers and EMS were to keep their blue lights off until Brad told them to move up to the house. All he told them was that a killer was impersonating his father.

The deputy outside with the shotgun had been certain that the man in the truck was Dr. Barnett. Now, with

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