He opens the chapel door and nearly walks over Livy, who’s standing in the hall. She backs up so that we can exit, and as we do I see my mother and Annie waiting at the end of the hall, by the wide ER doors.

“Tell me what I can do,” Livy says. “Your mother said you’re going to a motel.”

“For now. We need to get Annie settled. She—”

Suddenly the ER doors swing open, and Caitlin Masters runs up the corridor with a camera swinging around her neck and her black hair flying behind her.

“I just came from your house,” she says. “Penn, I’m so sorry.”

“Caitlin—”

“I need to talk you and your father. Right now.”

“What is it?”

She looks at Livy. “Could you excuse us for a moment, Mrs. Sutter?”

Livy bristles and looks at me, expecting me to tell Caitlin she can stay.

“Why don’t we go in the chapel?” I suggest. “We’ll just be a minute, Livy.”

Livy starts to say something to Caitlin but doesn’t. Instead she bites her bottom lip and watches us walk into the chapel.

Caitlin’s energy is like a flame inside the little room. She can’t remain still, and her eyes simmer with anger. “Someone kidnapped Annie?” she asks. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And they brought her back? With a warning note?”

“Yes.”

“The same person who set the fire?”

“Almost certainly.”

“Okay . . . okay.” She nods furiously, then paces out a tight circle. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

“Caitlin, what’s going on? Why are you so worked up?”

“I’ll print the story.”

“The story. About the fire?”

She blinks in confusion. “The fire? Hell, no. The slander. Marston being behind the Payton murder. You say it, I’ll print it. In type big enough to give him a coronary over breakfast.”

I simply stare at her.

“Maybe that’s the answer,” Dad says. “Last night we thought it was.”

“Last night you had a house,” I remind him. “What changed your mind?”

Caitlin stops pacing and looks me dead in the eye. “Annie, for one thing.”

“This girl is good people,” Dad says, squeezing her shoulder.

“For another, my instincts have started humming. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know. Maybe because this happened two days after we went to see Stone, and Stone says Marston was behind Payton’s death. Maybe because John Portman threatened you, and we know he worked the Payton case in sixty-eight. And we know Marston and J. Edgar Hoover were friends. Maybe it’s because I get a funny vibe from Marston’s daughter. All I know is that I’m not sitting still while these bastards go after people I care about. They want to play hardball? They’re going to get the game of their goddamn lives.”

My father looks like he wants to kiss her.

“What time is your deadline?” I ask.