“He’s got professional security. Why would he use those idiots?”

Forrest snorted. “His pros are legit. He can’t ask them to go kill a reporter.”

“Huh. Well, I say we drop them in the swamp. Have Daddy dump their truck in Dallas or somewhere even farther.”

“They’re locals,” Forrest pointed out. “All of them going missing at the same time would draw attention.” He reached into a dresser drawer and brought out a camouflage balaclava mask, one of dozens the club kept for hunting during the coldest months. Forrest stretched out the neck opening, then pulled the mask over his head, taking care over the lump of scar tissue that marked his missing ear. Walking to a mirror, he chuckled as he centered the mask over his mouth.

“Reminds me of the A Shau Valley,” he said.

Whatever, Billy thought, turning to lead his cousin back to the study.

When he opened the door, he saw Casey Whelan flailing in agony, and Sonny trying to hold him down on the bench. The other boys looked frightened, but their faces went white at the sight of the masked figure behind Billy.

“Is he the doctor?” asked Jake Whitten.

Billy raised a finger to his lips.

Forrest walked to the bench and knelt beside Whelan’s squirming body. Taking a small flashlight from his pocket, he studied the boy’s bloody abdomen, then palpated it with two fingers. Whelan screamed. Forrest held his bloody fingers in the light beam and checked them. Then he stood.

“Liver,” he said. “Nothing anybody can do for him.”

Whelan moaned in despair.

“Not even at a hospital?” asked Charley.

Forrest shook his head, then walked to the door behind the desk and left the study.

Billy held up his hand to prevent questions, then followed Forrest.

He found his cousin sitting on the bed, watching Steve McQueen drive a green ’68 Mustang GT Fastback hell-for-leather down a crowded street.

“You still say let the other two go?” Billy asked.

Forrest nodded without taking his eyes off the movie.

“Do you really think those two chickenshits can keep their mouths shut about this?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because the two healthy ones are going to finish off their buddy. Go back and explain that’s the only way they get to walk out of here alive. That way, instead of three dead roustabouts, we get two expendable grunts who’ll do anything we tell them to.”

It took Billy a few seconds to grasp Forrest’s reasoning, but once he did, he realized that his cousin had been thinking two moves ahead of him, as always. “What if they won’t do it?”

“Not an option.” Forrest’s eyes tracked the Mustang across the screen. “This kind of plan sells itself, William.”

Realizing the conversation was over, Billy walked back down to the study, then sat behind his desk. “You two boys want to keep on breathing?”