Thirteen hours in the trunk would have Kevin almost permanently stiffened, if not docile. The legal holiday was Monday, not today, and maybe the park was as empty as it looked from the road.

Another exit from the parkway appeared, this one on the left, across the southbound lanes. No point in going farther. Devlin swung the big car over into the intersection, waited for a station wagon to pass, and shot across and up the hill.

He got out a set of handcuffs. A mile up the two-lane blacktop, a dirt road forked to the right. Devlin took it, rolled past some deserted tables and benches and fieldstone barbecues and then down into a little hollow where the picnic area was out of view. He turned the car around and put the gear selector in Park. Outside, he pounded smartly on the trunk lid.

“Rise and shine!”

Kevin groaned. Devlin drew his gun, unlocked the lid, and let it rise, sunshine pouring into the cavity. Kevin tried to cover his eyes. Devlin slapped one cuff on Kevin’s wrist. The car was equipped with a space-saver spare. Good enough. Devlin pulled Kevin out of the trunk. Kevin’s cramped legs were as worthless as an infant’s, and he pitched forward onto the dirt, raising a cloud of dust. Quickly Devlin spun the butterfly nut retaining the spare, hefted the spare up to the lid, and swung it onto the squirming, crawling Kevin. Then Devlin threw the three confiscated guns in the trunk. He was going to stop before he reached Dutchess County to hide them well, especially the .25. Devlin had figured it out last night, after he’d realized how he’d changed the game when he’d attacked Rizzo and Gentile.

“I have to slow you down, asshole.”

“Just give me a drink of water,” Kevin gasped.

“All I can do is piss on you,” Devlin said, as he locked the other cuff to the spare wheel. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Where am I?”

“Up the creek. I want you to think again about what you’re doing to my girlfriend. If you want to change your mind—”

“It’s too late to change yours, son of a bitch,” Kevin gasped. “Kidnapping! Kidnapping!”

Devlin pinched his cheek like a baby’s. “If you’re not back in town by midnight, I’ll tell people how to find you. You won’t die. Adios, muchacho.”

In another minute Devlin was going back past the picnic tables and barbecues. Dragging the tire with him, it might take the crippled Kevin an hour to get that far.

12:34 P.M. …

12:34 P.M. …