MAGGIE wondered if they were too late. Had Stucky and Harding escaped? She watched as Agent Alvando and his men combed the area. As much as she wanted to be out there with them, she knew Alvando was right. She and Tully weren’t equipped or trained to participate in a SWAT-team sweep of the woods.

“Could we have been wrong about this place?” Agent Tully asked from the other side of the room. He had pulled out some of the cartons from under the desks, and with latex gloves on he sifted through ledgers, mail orders and other documents.

“All of this could simply be preparation for him losing his sight entirely. I’m not sure what to think.” She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread and restlessness. “Maybe we should see if they got that room opened in the basement.”

“Alvando told us to stay put.”

“It could be a torture chamber, not some bunker.”

“I’m only guessing it’s a bunker. We won’t know for sure until Alvando’s men can open it.”

She glanced around the room. It looked like a typical home office except for the talking computers. What a letdown. She had psyched herself up for a showdown with Stucky, and he was nowhere to be found.

“O’Dell?” Tully was hunched over another of the cartons he had unearthed. “Take a look at this.”

She looked over his shoulder expecting to see more X-rated software. Instead, she found herself staring at newspaper clippings about her father’s death.

“Where the hell do you suppose he got this?” Tully asked.

She was wondering the same thing until she saw her appointment book and childhood photo album. It was her missing carton from the move. She had completely forgotten about it. So Greg had been telling the truth. The carton hadn’t been left at the condo. Somehow Stucky had been watching and had managed to take it from the movers. A shiver slid down her back as she thought about him handling her personal possessions.

“Maggie?” Tully stared up at her, concern in his eyes. “Do you think he broke into your house without you knowing?”

“No, I’ve been missing it since the day I moved in. He must have stolen the box before it made it into the house.”

“That means Stucky has been here,” Tully said, digging through the other cartons.

The lightning struck closer, igniting the sky and making the trees look like skeleton soldiers standing at attention. Suddenly she saw a reflection of someone in the hall walking past the door. She spun around, her revolver outstretched. Tully jumped to his feet and had his gun out in seconds.

“What is it, O’Dell?” He kept his eyes ahead watching the doorway. She moved slowly across the room, gun aimed, hammer cocked.

“I saw someone walk by,” she finally explained.

“Do you smell something?” Tully was sniffing the air.

She smelled it, too, and the terror that had begun to crawl up from her stomach started to explode.

“It smells like gasoline,” Tully said.

All Maggie could think was that it smelled like gasoline and smoke. It smelled like fire. The thought grabbed hold of her, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t walk the rest of the distance to the door—her knees had locked. Her throat plugged up, threatening to strangle her.

Tully ran to the door and carefully peeked out, his gun ready.

“Holy crap,” he yelled. “We’ve got flames on both sides. There’s no way we’re getting out the way we came in.”

He hurried to the windows, trying to open one while Maggie stood paralyzed. She stared at her hands as though they belonged to someone else. She worried she might start to hyperventilate.

The smell alone sparked images from her childhood nightmares: flames engulfing her father and scorching her fingers every time she reached for him. She could never save him, because her fear immobilized her.

“Damn it!” She heard Tully struggling behind her.

She turned toward him, but her feet wouldn’t move. The room began to tilt. She could feel the motion, though she knew it couldn’t possibly be real. Then she saw him again, a reflection. She twisted around, but felt as if she were moving in slow motion. Albert Stucky stood tall and dark in the doorway, dressed in a leather jacket and pointing a gun directly at her.

She tried to raise her own gun, but it was too heavy. The room had tilted to the other side, and she felt herself slipping. He was smiling at her and seemed oblivious to the flames. Was he real? Had her terror brought on hallucinations?

“This damn thing is stuck,” she heard Tully yell somewhere in the distance.

She opened her mouth to warn Tully, but nothing came out. She expected the bullet to hit her squarely in the heart. That was where he was aiming. Everything in slow motion. He was pulling back the hammer. She could hear wood creaking, giving way in crashes outside the room. She saw Stucky begin to squeeze the trigger.

“Tully,” she managed to yell, and just then Stucky slid his aim to the right of her and pulled the trigger. The explosion jolted her like an electrical shock. But she wasn’t hit. She wasn’t bleeding anywhere. It was an effort to move her arm, but she raised it, ready to fire at the now-empty doorway. Stucky was gone. Had it all been her imagination? There was a groan behind her, and she remembered Tully.

He gripped his bloody thigh with both hands and stared at it as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The smoke had entered the room and burned their eyes. She ripped off her windbreaker and ran to the door, forcing herself not to think of the heat and the flames. She slammed the door shut, wadded up her jacket and shoved it into the crack under the door.

She came back to Tully and kneeled next to him. His eyes were wide and beginning to glaze over.

“You’re gonna be okay, Tully. Breathe but not too deeply.” Already the smoke was seeping in between the cracks.

She pulled at his necktie, undoing the knot. Gently she moved his hands away from the wound. She tied the necktie around his thigh, just above the bullet hole, tightening it and wincing when he shouted out in pain.

Smoke was filling the room. The crashing of beams sounded closer. Maggie crawled to her feet, trying to focus on getting them out of the house. She would not think of the flames on the other side of the door. She would not imagine the hellish heat licking at the floorboards.

She grabbed one of the monitors, yanking the cables until they became unplugged.

“Tully, cover your face.”

He only stared at her.

“Goddamn it, Tully, cover your face and head. Now!”

He pulled up his windbreaker and turned to face the wall. Maggie felt her arms weakening under the monitor’s weight. Her eyes burned, and her lungs screamed. She hurled the monitor through the window, and then quickly kicked out the chunks of glass. She grabbed Tully under the arms.

“Come on, Tully. You’re going to have to help me.”

Somehow she managed to drag him out the window and onto the roof of the porch. Alvando and two other men were down below. It wasn’t a great distance to the ground, but, with a bullet in his thigh, she couldn’t expect Tully to jump. She held on to his arms as he lowered his body over the edge and waited for the men below to grab him. The entire time, his eyes held hers. But there wasn’t shock now. There wasn’t fear. Instead, what she saw in Agent Tully’s eyes surprised her even more. The only thing she saw was trust.