He raised one finger to silence her. He showed her the key to the padlock. “Gregory, the men are happily on their way down to the big boat. Commander Merrill is still outside, trying to find a way to get himself trapped downstairs. When he succeeds, that should do it. We three will leave together. In the meantime, would you mind looking after the Commander? Amy and I have only a little more time before we leave.”

“I understand. But it is getting late.”

“Allowing for the time we need to get a prudent distance away, we will still have almost three hours. You’re dressed for it, I see. Travel, I mean.”

“I had no choice. Rosario had his little revenge.”

Chino laughed to himself as he unlocked the belt. “Now let us have our privacy, Gregory, please.”

Amy closed her eyes and turned away. She could not look at Chino now, much less try to trick or defy him. She had never felt so sick or hopeless. But Sam was alive! And so close! But if he took more than just a few minutes to get to her, she was sure, he was going to find her dead — or wishing she was.

Merrill stopped. Something was wrong. This was too easy. Two minutes ago, on the other side of the building, a car had been started and driven off. Since then, the house and grounds had been stone quiet. It made no sense.

Minutes before, they had fought to keep him out. Amy was still their hostage. She was where they had wanted both of them? If they had taken her away from here, why? Why now? What was different now?

Merrill’s own position with respect to the house and grounds. He was at a distance from the wall on the side of the house that showed tire tracks going back up to the heap of debris. Earlier, he had been around at the back, very near the wall, near the heap of debris and the brightly lighted object not appearing on O’Malley’s map, the installation of which had been too recent to be recorded in the last update. How long could that have been? What had O’Malley told him? Updates four times a year? The brightly lighted object had been put together in the past three months.

It had taken Chino three years to build the house. Saving the best for last? Had Merrill nearly stumbled upon something Chino hadn’t wanted him to see? Until he saw it, Merrill had no way of knowing.