“You’re the sheriff. I’m Bob Delano, renting the place next door. I tried seeing what I could do, but the doors’re locked. I thought about breaking one in, but they said you were on the way.”

“I’ll take care of it, Mr. Delano. Maybe you could keep those people back.”

“Sure. I’ve seen that guy, Sheriff. Big sonofabitch. You want to watch yourself.”

“I appreciate it. Get on back now.” Zack pounded a fist on the door. Though he’d have preferred to have Ripley with him, he hadn’t risked waiting for her to answer his beeper call. “This is Sheriff Todd. I want you to open the door, and open it now.” Something shattered inside, and a woman began to wail. “If this door isn’t open in five seconds, I’m kicking it in.”

The man came to the door. Delano was right. He was one big sonofabitch. Six-four, maybe, and a good two seventy-five. He looked hungover and mad as piss.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I want you to step back, sir, and keep your hands where I can see them.”

“You got no right coming in here. I’m renting this place paid in full.”

“Your rental agreement doesn’t give you leave to destroy property. Now back up.”

“You’re not coming in here without a warrant.”

“Bet?” Zack said softly. His hand shot out, lightning-quick, gripped the man’s wrist, and twisted. “Now, you want to take a swing at me,” he continued in the same mild tone, “we’ll add resisting arrest and assaulting an officer to the mix. More paperwork, but I get paid for it.”

“By the time my lawyer’s done, I’m going to own this fucking island.”

“You’re welcome to call him—from down at the station house.” Zack cuffed him and looked around with relief as he heard Ripley pounding up the stairs.

“Sorry. I was all the way over on Broken Shell. What’s this? Domestic dispute?”

“And then some. This is my deputy,” Zack informed his prisoner. “Take my word, she can clean your clock. Put him in the back of the cruiser, Ripley. Get his particulars, read him his rights.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, Mr. Fuck You, you’re under arrest for . . .” She glanced back at Zack, who was already moving through the broken glass and crockery to the woman sitting on the floor, holding her face in her hands and sobbing.

“Destruction of private property, disturbing the peace, assault.”

“You got that? Now unless you want me to kick your ass in front of all these nice people, we’ll just walk to the cruiser and take a little drive. You have the right to remain silent,” she continued, giving him a helpful shove to get him going.