The Runes of the Earth

He intended more harm.

Sara Clint was a good nurse, level-headed and compassionate. She had a husband and two daughters. She did not deserve this.

Joan herself did not deserve it.

“Fine,” Lytton growled. “So tell me just how the hell you knew this was going to happen.”

“Not here,” Linden countered. “In my office.” He was more likely to tell her the truth if they were alone.

Stifling an impulse to hurry, she took a moment to ask Maxine to call for a nurse to replace Sara. She did not want to leave Harry on duty alone in his condition. Then she beckoned for the sheriff to follow her and headed toward her office.

His heavy boots stamped behind her on the tile as if he were cursing.

In her office, she sat down behind her desk, anchoring herself on her medical authority. She wanted Barton Lytton to know that she was not a woman whom he could intimidate.

He began at once. Towering at the edge of her desk, he announced in a rough voice, “I need to know what you know. We have to find that little shit.” He glowered down at her as if she could free him to act on his outrage and frustration. “He sure as hell won’t take her to Haven Farm. Not unless he’s begging to get caught. The Clints are decent people. I’m not going to let him get away with this.

“Tell me now, Doctor. How the fuck did you know what he would do?”

The sheriff was wrong. Roger expected to be caught; wanted that for some reason. Why else did he need a hostage?

“I knew,” she retorted firmly, “because I pay attention.” The haunted ire and need in his eyes had not changed, but now it did not sway her. “I could see as soon as I met him that he was unstable. He kept repeating that he wanted to take care of Joan, but his manner was all wrong. He didn’t act like a loving son. The way he talked convinced me that the only thing he really cared about was getting her away from here.

“I tried to tell you. He wants to do something to her.”

Lytton propped his fists on her desk, leaned his bulk onto his arms. In spite of his posture, however, his eyes flinched. “You’re not helping, Doctor,” he said softly. “Telling me I fucked up doesn’t do shit for Sara Clint. We’ve got to get her back.

“I need to know where he’s going. Hell, he could be halfway out of the county by now. I can call in help. We can set up roadblocks, try to stop him. But there are too many small roads. We can’t block them all. Hell, we don’t even know what kind of car he drives. That fool Gund was too scared to look.

“And while we’re sitting at roadblocks, he can hole up anywhere he wants. We’ll never find him. Until he’s already done”- Lytton swallowed hard- “whatever the fuck he has in mind.

“It’s too late to tell me I should have listened to you. Tell me how to find him.”

Linden recognised the justice of his response. In some sense, she respected it. But she was not moved. The look in his eyes disturbed her. Their mix of fear and fury seemed to promise butchery.

Terrible things might happen to Joan and Sara if Lytton tried to kill Roger-

Linden held the sheriff’s gaze until he looked away. Then, distinctly, she said, “There’s something I need to know first.”

“Are you shitting me?” he protested. “Roger Covenant has a fucking hostage, he has Sara Clint! We need to move! What can you possibly need to know first?”

Linden did not relent. Instead she said precisely, “When Julius Berenford found Joan on Haven Farm ten years ago, she was sane. She couldn’t remember what had happened to her, but she could talk. She could function, at least to some extent. But by the time you delivered her to County Hospital, Sheriff Lytton, she was a vegetable. Entirely out of reach. If we didn’t take such good care of her, she would have died years ago.

“What happened while you were driving her back into town? What changed her?”

With a jerk, Lytton pulled himself upright. A sudden flush darkened his cheeks. Glaring at the centre of Linden’s forehead, he said, “We’ve had this conversation, Doctor.”

“Yes, we have,” she insisted. “But I need a better answer. It’s time to talk about it. Tell me what happened”

Her pager chirped at her, but she ignored it. She had come too far and waited too long to let Barton Lytton evade her now.

Darkness spread down Lytton’s neck, staining his skin with threats. Yet he could not conceal his fear. His eyes seemed to cower in their sockets. Linden thought that he might refuse to answer; but she had underestimated his rage-or his shame. Abruptly he bared his teeth as if he were grinning. His eyes found hers in defiance.

“Oh, it’s nothing much,” he answered between his teeth. “I didn’t hurt her or anything, if that’s what you think.

“Of course, I cuffed her. She was a fucking accessory, for God’s sake. For all I knew, she’d killed her damn ex.” He faltered for an instant, wincing. Then he rasped, “After that, I made her ride in back.”

The back of a police car: the cage. Bars between her and the front seat. No handles inside the doors. Like a dangerous criminal.

After what she had suffered-

“She asked me why,” he went on. “She was fucking hysterical about it. So I told her.”

Linden stared at him. His gaze held a throng of conflicts. Her pager signalled again; but now she could not force herself to glance away from him.

“Told her-?” she asked weakly.

“The truth, Dr. Avery.” His tone was thick with disgust. “Her ex was a fucking leper. And she was married to him before she knew he had it. She probably had it herself. Hell, she probably still does. If nothing else, she’s a damn carrier.

“I made her ride in back because I didn’t want to be infected.”

Linden heard him clearly. He was trying to sound justified. But he failed. The plain cruelty of his actions defeated him.

Before she could react, he leaned over her desk again. “That upsets you, doesn’t it, Doctor. You don’t think I should have been so mean to her.

“Well, fuck you. We should have talked about your complicity in that murder ten years ago. You’re an accessory too, but the sainted Julius Berenford protected you. The two of you hid the truth. I’m the sheriff of this county, and you didn’t let me do my job.

“Now you’re at it again. But this time you won’t get away with it. I’ll find them without you. And when I do, I’m going to make damn sure you get your share of the blame.”

Then he stood up and wheeled out of her office. Before he reached the lobby, he started shouting orders at his deputies.

Linden swore to herself. She could have told him where to look for Roger. She should have. But she did not trust him. He was too eager for violence. His solution to Joan’s dilemma might leave no one alive.

Her pager beeped again, insisting on her attention. Reluctantly she looked down at its display.

For a moment, she did not recognise the number. She stared at it, frowning, while she pushed the button to make the pager stop chirping.

Who-?

Then she had it: Megan Roman. That was Megan’s home phone number.

She groaned under her breath. She did not feel equal to the challenge of telling Megan about Bill and Joan and Sara.

But what else did she propose to do, now that she had driven Barton Lytton away? Go after Roger on her own? No. She would not risk her life-risk abandoning Jeremiah-in that way. And it was possible that Megan would be able to help-

She might know someone in the State Highway Patrol. Or, better yet, the FBI. Kidnapping was a federal