You have to deal with the enemy inside yourself before you can take on the enemy that faces you. …

Like I have the leisure for a psychological review right now! What should I do, ask him to wait for a minute while I bring in my analyst?

His smile widened, just a little more, while the bitter wind of his place, called by his power, whipped her hair around her face, stinging her eyes and calling up tears of pain and pure unadulterated fear.

He licked his lips, as if he tasted and relished those tears.

David was not prepared for Calligan to come lunging over the desk; he stepped back, instinctively. That was a mistake; he cleared the way for the man to body-slam Jennie into the wall of filing cabinets opposite the desk.

Then he reacted, leaping to Jennie’s defense, but it was too late; Jennie was out cold, and Calligan was backing away, toward the door. Quickly, he positioned himself between Jennie and Calligan, taking a defensive stance over her prone body. He glanced down briefly, desperate to determine how badly she was hurt, but afraid to take his eyes off Calligan for long.

But Calligan relaxed, and gifted David with the nastiest smile he’d ever seen. David tensed. If something made Calligan smile, he had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t going to like it.

Then the contractor reached around behind his own back and locked the door of his office.

“I told Romulus, I told Sleighbow, over and over, that they couldn’t trust you savages,” he said, pulling a clasp knife from his pocket. “Now—let’s see if I can come up with a good story.” His eyes focused just past David’s shoulder for a moment. “Got it. That primitive little tart must have decided to use you as her way to bring me down.” Calligan eyed David as if he were some kind of lower form of life, a bug or a worm. “I can see why; you must make a lot of money as a gigolo. So. First you seduce and steal my wife, then persuade her to file against me; then you use serving those papers on me as an excuse to get in here to try and murder me.” He shook his head and tsked. “Barbarians. There isn’t a judge and jury in Oklahoma who’d blame me for killing you and your bimbo. Temporary insanity, that’s what they’d say.”

Strange; Calligan spoke as if he was reciting something; as if someone were coaching him with a hidden mike. But his eyes were alert enough, so he wasn’t on drugs or anything.