“Cool it, Welcome. Just stop right there. You have one chance to save your life. Right now. Only one. I’m going to shoot you if you scream … or stall. Ever been shot? Well, you have my word that I’m going to do it—more than once, and in places that won’t kill you. I’m going to shoot you if you try to escape, if you cough, or sneeze, or argue, or do anything other than give me what I came here to get, which is a notebook that Humphrey Miller gave to you. Is that clear?”

“Please … let’s—”

“—I’m counting to five, then it starts.”

“I have it, I have it.”

“Four. I don’t care if you have it. I want you to give it to me. Three…”

“It’s here, it’s right here!” Lou shouted. Any vestige of coolness or composure was gone from his voice. This was a man with no soul. He had killed Vaill’s wife without a blink, and he had undoubtedly gotten pleasure out of gunning down Humphrey’s caretaker at close range. There was no way even to try to reason with him. “Don’t shoot me! I’ll get it. I’ll get it.”

Lou continued desperately to search his mind for a move or a word that might forestall the inevitable and turn even one thimbleful of the tide that was threatening to sweep him away forever.

“It’s locked in the safe,” he said, pointing.

Another round of wind and thunder. Rain was now being blown through the open sliders and onto the carpeted floor. The curtains billowed inward like spinnakers.

Burke came around to Lou’s side of the bed. Five feet separated them—an easy kill shot, but too far for Lou to make any reasonable attempt to attack him. Another look into Burke’s empty eyes told Lou everything he needed to know about how this was going to go down.

He’s going to kill me. Once he has the book, I’m dead.

“Open the safe,” Burke said.

Time was almost up. Lou decided he wasn’t going without a fight. He wasn’t going to wait to be shot. Crouching rather than dropping onto his knees, he opened the cabinet door and took in a deep, steadying breath. There was no way Burke would accept the combination to the safe. He wanted the notebook, not any of the distractions that could result from dialing numbers.

Distractions …

Lou glanced out the sliders, and the germ of an idea formed … and began to grow. He worked quickly but carefully to press the correct number sequence—03051009, a mash up of his birthday and Emily’s and the only combination he was guaranteed not to forget. The safe clicked open and he retrieved the thick, bound document. As he stood, Lou turned back around to face Burke.

Could the notebook stop a slug? he was wondering.