“It’s Barky,” she whispered down to David.

She had rarely seen him in anything but worn jeans and T-shirts. He carried a thick walking stick.

David bounced to his feet. As planned, Ashley would not immediately announce her presence. “Barky,” David said. “Where the hell have you been? What kind of getup is that?”

“Ach.” Barky shook his head in disgust. “You and Ashley are mosquitoes on my back. Leave me alone.”

“Let you fish?”

“Yes!”

It was all Ashley could do to remain silent in the tree.

“Barky, what do you want with the jewels?”

He sighed heavily. “You should have done what I said in the note. You should have trusted me.”

“It’s not a question of trust. Barky, please. I want some answers. Who is MacGregor Stevens? What’s he got against you? And the son of a bitch who beat me up—”

“David, you must stop.” Barky didn’t yell. Ashley had never seen such a graveness and depth of emotion in their uncle.

“Listen, old man, I don’t care if I have to knock you over the head and drag you home, we’re having some words. I want to know what the hell’s going on.”

Barky shook his head, impatient, adamant. “I have no time. You and Ashley must let me do what I must do. Trust me! Go away. Go spend your money and have fun. Find a place and lie in the sun. Leave me to this!”

“No.”

“Ach.” The man in black regarded his nephew in despair. “Then you leave me no choice. David, I want you always to remember that I love you and Ashley as my son and my daughter. I love you more than I do myself. But you must stay away from this. I have kept you alive all these years; I don’t intend for you to be killed now.”

Talk of love and death from a man always so stoic and taciturn drew Ashley off her guard. She dug her fingers into the branch above her to steady herself.

“David, what I do, I do only for you and your sister. I have nothing left in my heart for anyone else.”

“Barky—”

“You must listen carefully. The pain will be intense, but the break will be clean. And it doesn’t matter if you ever forgive me. It only matters that you live and leave me to what I must do.”

“What the hell—”

Barky’s face twisted in anguish and the thick cane raised up, and David yelled out in horror, and then Ashley did. “No!”

She leaped out of the tree and came down hard in the wet, slippery leaves. She scrambled to her feet.

The blow came—firmly, quickly, sharply. Ashley heard the snap of her brother’s shinbone. Too late, she wildly jerked the walking stick from her uncle’s hand and threw it as far as she could. “You maniac!” she screamed.

David cried out in agony; he had collapsed on the cold, wet ground.

Ashley was crying. “Barky, no, don’t do this to us. Barky!”