kidnapping ends any other way.
Pike said, 'He's slowing.'
Fallon's car slipped under the freeway, then turned. Pike didn't follow. His lights went off and he pulled to the curb at the corner, watching. I did the same. After a bit, Pike's Jeep crept forward and turned. We eased past building-supply outlets and a veterinarian's clinic to a row of small houses. A dog howled in the clinic. It sounded in pain.
Pike eased into a parking lot and got out. I followed him. We closed our doors just enough for them to catch, and Pike nodded toward a small house across the street
with a For Sale sign in its front yard.
'That one.'
The limo was mostly hidden behind the house and the white car was as far up the drive as it could go. A dark blue sedan was parked in the front yard. The sedan would probably be their escape vehicle. Lights moved in the
house. Fallon and Ben hadn't been there more than two minutes, the limo no more than three. I wondered if Richard was dead in the back. I wondered if they had finished him on the way. The dog howled again.
I started across the street, but Pike stopped me.
'You have a plan or you just going to kick down the door ?'
'You know what's going to happen. We don't have any time.'
Pike stared at me; he was as still as a glade in a sleeping forest, but with a thunderhead riding the trees.
I pulled away from him, but Pike stepped closer. He
grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me eye to eye. 'Don't die on me.' 'Ben's inside.' Pike held on.
'They were right in front of us at the airport, and we didn't see them. They beat us. You know what happens if they beat us now.'
I took a deep breath. Pike was right. Pike was almost always right. Shadows moved across the windows. The dog howled even louder.
I said, 'Check the windows on the far side. I'll go down the drive. We'll meet at the back. They probably entered the house through the back door. They're in a hurry, so maybe they left it unlocked.'
Pike said, 'Just keep it tight. Maybe we can get shots through the windows, but if we have to go in, we go in together.'
'I know. I know what to do.'
'Then let's do it.'
We split apart as we crossed the street. Pike went to the far side of the house as I moved down the drive. Sheer drapes covered the windows, but they didn't stop me
from seeing. The first two windows showed a dark living room, but the hall beyond it was bright. The next windows showed an empty dining room, and then I reached the last two windows on my side of the house. They were brightly lit. I moved away from the house so their glow wouldn't illuminate me, and looked in the windows from the dark shadow of a bush in the neighbor's yard. Mazi Ibo and Eric Schilling were in the kitchen. Ibo walked into another part of the house, but Schilling came out the back door. He had two large duffel bags slung over his shoulders. An old saying is that no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. Schilling stopped by the limo, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. He was less than twenty feet away from me. I didn't move. I held myself absolutely still. My heart hammered, but I didn't let myself breathe. Schilling took a step, then stopped again as if sensing something. He cocked his head. The dog howled. Schilling hitched the duffels, then stepped past the white car into the driveway and went toward the front, bringing the money to the blue sedan. I moved softly at first but picked up speed. He heard me when he was halfway down the drive. He dropped low into a crouch and turned fast, but it was too late by then. I hit him hard between the eyes with my pistol, then grabbed him to keep him from falling and hit him twice more. I eased Schilling down, found his gun, and tucked it in my pants. I hurried to the back door. It was open and the kitchen was empty. Nothing moved in the house, and the silence was awful. Ibo and Fallon might come back at any moment with more bags of money, but the stillness in the house frightened me far more than that. Maybe they heard. Maybe Fallon and Ibo were already tending to busiBEN
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ness. All kidnappings end the same way for the victim.
I should have waited for Pike, but I stepped into the kitchen and moved toward the hall. My head was buzzing and my heart beat loud. Maybe that was why I didn't hear Fallon behind me until it was way too late:
Mike turned into a narrow drive that ran alongside a small dark house.
Ben said, 'Where are we?'
'End of the line.'
Mike pulled him across the seat and into the house. Eric was waiting for them in a dingy pink kitchen with smudged walls and a big empty hole where a refrigerator once stood. Two green duffel bags were heaped on the floor. Dust bunnies the size of Pekinese dogs cowered in the corners.
'We got a problem back here. Look.' 'With the money?' 'No, the dickhead.'
They followed Eric out of the kitchen and into a small bedroom. Ben saw Mazi shoving money into two more green duffels, but then he saw his father. Richard Chenier was sprawled on the floor against the wall, holding his
stomach with blood all over his pants and arm.
Ben shouted, 'DADDY!'
Ben ran to his father and none of them stopped him. His father groaned when Ben hugged him, and Ben
