MAGGIE swerved around slower-moving traffic, trying to keep her foot from pushing the accelerator to the floor. Her heart hadn’t stopped ramming against her chest since Tully’s phone call. All the anger she had accessed in Kernan’s office had been converted to sheer panic.

She knew Walker Harding was involved. She still had a difficult time believing Stucky would allow anyone to help, even his ex-partner—unless the two men were competing at some bizarre game. And from Tully’s description of Harding’s new entrepreneurial venture, it seemed more than possible that he was capable of the same sort of twisted, perverted evil as Stucky was.

She had a B.A. in criminal psychology, and a master’s in behavioral psychology. She knew all about the shadow side, and she knew it existed in everyone. There were plenty of experts who debated the fine line between good and evil and they all hoped to explain why some people chose evil, while others chose good. What was the determining factor? Did anyone really know?

“Trust in yourself,” Kernan had told her. And that the decisions she made in a split second would somehow reveal her true self.

What kind of psychobabble was that? What if her true self really was her shadow side? What if her true self was capable of Stucky’s blend of evil? She couldn’t help thinking that all it would take was a split second for her to aim and fire one bullet right between those black eyes. She no longer wanted to capture him. She wanted him to pay. She needed to see fear in those evil eyes. The same fear she felt every night when darkness came.

She glanced at the map spread out on the passenger seat. The toll bridge was about fifty miles from Quantico. Tully was still making arrangements. It would take several hours before he had everything ready according to his careful, by-the-book standards. They’d be lucky to make it to Harding’s property by nightfall. Tully was expecting her in the next ten to fifteen minutes. Up ahead a sign indicated that her exit was just ten miles away.

She pulled out her cell phone and slowed the car to the speed limit, allowing her to maneuver more easily with one hand on the wheel. She punched in the number and waited.

“Dr. Gwen Patterson.”

“Gwen, it’s Maggie.”

“You sound like you’re on the road.”

“Yes, I am. Just coming back from D.C. Look, Gwen, you know how you’re always saying I never ask anything of my friends? Well, I need a favor.”

“Wait a minute. Who did you say this was?”

“Very funny.” Maggie smiled. “I know it’s out of your way, but could you check on Harvey this evening—let him out, feed him…all those dog things that a real dog owner normally does?”

“You’re off fighting serial killers, and you’re still worried about Harvey. Yes, I will. Actually, that’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time as far as spending an evening with a male companion goes.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“Does this mean you’re simply working late or have you found him?”

Maggie wondered how long it had been since her friends and coworkers could simply ask her about “him” and automatically mean Albert Stucky.

“I don’t know yet, but it’s the best lead we’ve had so far. You may have been right about the candy wrappers.”

“Wonderful. Only I don’t remember what it was I said.”

“We dismissed Stucky’s old business partner as an accomplice because the guy was supposedly going blind due to some medical condition. Now the evidence suggests that the condition could be diabetes. Which means the blindness may not have been sudden or complete. In fact, he could be hoping to control it with insulin injections.”

“Why would Stucky be working with an accomplice? Are you sure that makes sense, Maggie?”

“No, I’m not sure it does. But we keep finding fingerprints at the scenes that don’t belong to Stucky. This morning we found out the prints are a perfect match with Stucky’s old business partner, Walker Harding. The two supposedly went their separate ways about four years ago, but they might be working together again. We also discovered a remote piece of land just across the river registered to Harding. This place sounds like the perfect hideout.”

Maggie glanced down at the map again. The exit to Quantico was getting closer. Soon she’d need to make a decision. She knew a shortcut to the toll bridge. She could be there in less than an hour. Suddenly she realized that Gwen’s pause had lasted too long. Had she lost the call?

“Gwen, are you still there?”

“Did you say the partner’s name is Walker Harding?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Maggie, last week I started seeing a new patient who is blind. His name is Walker Harding.”