She'd seen his face. Could he take the chance of letting her go when she could identify him? Yet, he didn't seem like a cold-blooded killer. He'd planted a bomb in a crowded hotel, she reminded herself. Oh, God, she had to get away!

Closing her eyes, Serena put all her concentration into listening. It was quiet, no sounds of traffic. She thought, but couldn't be sure, that she heard the ocean. It might've been the wind. How far out of town were they? she wondered. If she threw the teacup through the window and screamed, would anyone hear? Even as she weighed the odds, Terry came back into the bedroom.

"I brought you a sandwich." He seemed more agitated this time, or perhaps, she reconsidered, excited. Make him talk, she told herself. "Please don't leave me alone." She grabbed his arm with her free hand and let her eyes plead with his.

"You'll feel better after you eat," he mumbled, and shoved the sandwich under her nose. "You don't have to be scared. I told you I wouldn't hurt you if you didn't try anything."

"I've seen you," she said, taking the chance. "How can you let me go?"

"I've got plans." Restless, he began to pace the little room. He wasn't big, she thought. If I could just get my hand free, I'd have a chance. "By the time I let them know where you are, I'll already be gone." He thought of Switzerland with grim pleasure. "They won't find me. I'll have two million dollars to help me hide in comfort"

"Two million," she whispered. "How do you know Justin will pay?"

Terry laughed, turning to look at her. Her face was pale, her eyes huge. Her hair tumbled wildly around her shoulders. "He'll pay. He'll beg me to let him pay before I'm finished."

"You said he killed your father."

"Murdered him."

"But he was acquitted. Justin told me—" The words slid back down her throat as Terry whirled.

"He murdered my father and they let him go!" he shouted. "Let him go because they felt sorry for him. It was all politics, my mother told me. They let him go because he was a poor Indian kid. My mother said that his lawyer paid off the witnesses."

His mother, Serena thought, had been warping his mind for years. It would take more than a few words from her to change it now. Had his mother told him about the scar along Justin's side? Had she told him his father had been drunk, or that the knife that had killed him had been his own? Serena studied Terry's set, frightened face and hating eyes. "I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I'm so sorry."