He scrunched lower under the covers. “Protect Ashley and David, if I can—and stop this madman. I want to see him rot in hell.”

“Maybe he’s already there.”

Jeremy lay fully dressed atop the hand-stitched patchwork quilt. Sometimes he thought he could hear Ashley breathing, but then he’d realize it was just the waves, and he’d shut his eyes tightly and wonder if she were in bed, thinking of him.

When the knock at his door came, he sprang out of bed and instantly tore open the door, but there was Mac Stevens, looking haggard and nervous. Uninvited, he walked into the dark room. Ominous black clouds had rolled in during the night—appropriately, Jeremy thought. It promised to be a miserable day.

Mac said matter-of-factly, “I’m sorry you didn’t heed my advice, Jeremy.”

“I did—Ashley Wakefield didn’t.” He sat on the lower end of the double bed.

“You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

“Fallen, Mac.”

He nodded, as if he’d expected nothing else. “She’s the sort of woman I’ve always envisioned your ending up with. I hope things work out, Jeremy, but this is going to be hell on her. She still believes in her uncle, doesn’t she?”

“If it were my father, Mac, so would I.”

“Despite the evidence?”

Jeremy looked at his friend, his colleague, a man he had admired since childhood. Was Mac slipping quietly over the edge? Had he lost any semblance of perspective on this bizarre situation—or had he never any to begin with? Jeremy said carefully, “There hasn’t been much actual evidence, Mac.”

“He’ll kill her, Jeremy.”

“He raised her.”

“He’s raised pigs and chickens, too. To a man like that, they’re all the same.”

Jeremy shook his head. “I can’t convince her of that.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Mac moved toward the window and smiled grimly. “You’re bigger than she is, Jeremy. You can stop her. Hog-tie her, if you must.”

Jeremy had to laugh at the idea: she’d have a royal fit.

But Mac wasn’t laughing. “Do whatever you have to—anything. But keep her away from her uncle.”

“Mac, talk to her yourself. Tell her. She has to make her own decisions.”

“Don’t be so honorable.”

“If I collude with you again, Mac, I’m afraid I’ll lose her.”

“If you don’t, she’ll get herself killed.”

With a weary sigh, Jeremy climbed to his feet. Mac had his back turned to him now, one hand outstretched on the wall, bracing him as he looked out the window. He must be exhausted, Jeremy thought. Had he slept at all last night?

“Do you know where her uncle is?” he asked.

Mac shook his head. “Not for sure, but I think he’s somewhere on the island.”

“Here?”

“Yes, dammit, here. He’ll be contacting Balaton.”

Then, from a distance, came the sound of a motor, for Jeremy a joltingly familiar sound. He flew to the window, swearing, but it was too late. The trim white Cessna 172 was already lifting above the treetops, flying into the cloudy pale dawn sky.