The bar towel was wedged so deeply in her mouth Amy was afraid she’d choke if she tried to make a sound. Her nose still burned with stomach acid — she didn’t dare think of what had been down there. She was handcuffed to the armrest again, the handcuffs tighter than before, as tight as Gregory had been able to get them. She knew she was going to be bleeding when he took them off. She wasn’t sure she didn’t feel the blood on her wrists now.

“Let her talk, Gregory. I’m sure she’ll be good girl.”

The words were barely in the air when Gregory wrenched the towel out of her mouth. She tried to work up some saliva so she could spit. “Amy, tell your husband that you’re all right.”

“Sam? Where are you?”

“Where you left me. You’re in a car?”

“Heading downhill.”

“What time is —?”

“Twenty after three —”

Gregory grabbed her neck and pushed her head hard against the door window.

“Easy, Gregory,” Chino said. “I don’t want the lady irredeemably hostilized at this stage of our relationship. It’s twenty after three, Commander. Amy, assure your husband you’re in no distress.”

She didn’t answer. The car bounded across a T intersection.

“Amy, please don’t be difficult at this stage.”

“Then tell Monkeyboy to quit using me for a punching bag. And to loosen these goddamned handcuffs.”

“Gregory,” Sam said. “I told you I’d kill you.”

Me first, she thought.

“I’ve killed eight of you assholes, already,” Sam said. “One or two more will be all right with me.”

Eight? He wasn’t lying. They knew what he’d done. She knew them well enough now to know they would correct him. What had he done? What had he become? Her headache was back big time and the three remaining ibuprophen she’d stashed in her shirt on the airplane were on the sink counter in the guest bathroom in Chino’s house.

Chino said, “You heard him, Gregory. Of course, he isn’t in much of a position to do anything to stop you.”

“You already know he’s full of surprises,” she offered. She thought she sounded lame.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Sam said, sounding even lamer.

Chino laughed. “Do you want to hear about the television set-up or don’t you?”

And to add his own punctuation to Chino’s assertion of control over the Merrills, Gregory pushed the cigarette lighter in.

“Chino, has Monkeyboy taken up smoking? He’s just plugged in the cigarette lighter in here!”

“Chino!” Sam shouted. “You said she was going to be safe!”

“I said I was sparing her,” Chino said wearily.

“Sam, you’ve got until six o’clock to get out of there.”