She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the pounding behind her eyes, before drawing her mind back to the water. Drink it. You have to drink it. If she didn’t, she could start having contractions. And if she went into labor at only six months …

Hoping to get her baby to kick, she put a hand to her belly and pressed. She hadn’t noticed any movement since she’d stabbed the muscular behemoth who’d kidnapped her. The thought that the stress of such a long night, waiting on pins and needles for her moment, and the subsequent deluge of adrenaline when that moment arrived might have been too much for her child scared her in a way nothing else could. The grief and the sense of loss she would experience if her baby was stillborn, especially in this godforsaken place, without the proper medical help and without Amarok …

She blinked rapidly, fighting tears as she frowned at her reflection. Why are you being so stubborn? Do it for your child, she told herself. But if she knew for sure it would help, she would’ve done it already. Problem was she could also throw herself into early labor or lose the baby if she got E. coli or some other bacterial infection.

Which way would her child have a better chance?

She squeezed her forehead, trying to decide. She was already experiencing the classic signs of dehydration—the headache, the dry mouth, the dizziness and the sleepiness. There were worse symptoms, ones that affected blood pressure, which were especially risky while pregnant.

She’d have to drink the toilet water and hope for the best, she decided, and formed her hands into a cup.

Anchorage, AK—Saturday, 3:30 p.m. AKDT

Bishop was surprised when he called Emmett’s cell phone and Emmett didn’t pick up. He’d just landed in Anchorage, but he wanted to pretend as though he were having trouble getting out of Minneapolis, so that Emmett wouldn’t be expecting him.

He left a message saying he wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, to please stay and not leave Evelyn until he could get there. The last thing Lyman needed was for Emmett to decide he’d waited long enough and take off, as he’d threatened, only to return when Lyman was there, expecting his money. That would shift the element of surprise and all the advantage it brought to the other side of the equation.

Emmett was so much less predictable, so much less tractable, than Terry had been. Lyman worried about that while waiting for the owner of a car he’d rented via a private website to meet him at the airport. He could’ve used one of the big rental car companies—they were more convenient—but he couldn’t take the risk. These days so many of them had GPS trackers. And he couldn’t get in a taxi. He was going to need a vehicle to get groceries and other supplies. He might even need a trunk to dispose of Emmett’s body. Lyman wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d have the strength and coordination necessary to dig a grave, not when he was having trouble walking.