He slowed to a stop and pulled over, letting her run on toward him, vaguely angry with her for having worried him. As she ran, she pushed her sweatshirt hood off her head, and she wasn’t Holly. She was a teenaged boy. He flagged the boy down.

“Evening,” he said. “My name is Stone Barrington.”

“Oh, yes,” the boy said, “from the Stone house. I’m Tyler Morrow.” They shook hands. He appeared to be sixteen or seventeen.

“Have you seen another runner along your route?” Stone asked.

“A couple of them,” Tyler replied. “A man and a woman; I didn’t know either of them, which is unusual around here.”

“Were they together?”

“No. I saw them separately.”

“Can you describe the woman?”

“Oh, let’s see: mid-twenties, dark hair, five-three or -four, slim.”

Not Holly. “Are you sure you didn’t see another woman? I’m looking for a friend of mine who runs out this way.”

“Nope. Just the two.”

“Thanks very much, Tyler. If you should encounter a woman in her late thirties or early forties, five-nine, a hundred and thirty pounds, medium brown hair, will you please ask her if her name is Holly, and if it is, ask her to call Stone on his cell phone right away?”

“Sure. Be glad to.” With a wave, Tyler Morrow continued on his way.

Stone put the car in gear and began his search anew. He drove all the way to the southern tip of the island, checking every side road and driveway, seeing no sign of Holly. He turned the car around and got out his cell phone. No signal, low battery.

On his way back he turned down every side road and checked it, and by the time he got back to the house it was dark and lights were on inside. He garaged the car and let himself in. “Holly?” he yelled. “Are you home?”

Mabel came out of the kitchen. “I was just upstairs putting away some linens, and she wasn’t anywhere up there,” she said.

“Thank you, Mabel.”

“What time will you want dinner?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to eat until Holly is back. Can you put dinner in the fridge for us, and we’ll heat it up later?”

“It’s beef stew,” she said. “You can heat it in the microwave.”

Stone went to the phone and called Sergeant Young.

“This is Sergeant Tom Young,” a recorded voice said. “Please leave a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as I get in.”

“Sergeant, this is Stone Barrington. Holly Barker has not returned from her run, and I’m very concerned. I’m not sure exactly how long she’s been gone, but it’s several hours, and she’s never stayed out this long when running. I think you should let your search parties know about her. Please call me at your first opportunity.” He hung up, and his eyes came to rest on the coffee table. Holly’s cell phone was there. He picked it up and saw that it was switched off. She had no way to communicate.

He put the phone down and called Ed Rawls.

“Rawls,” the big man drawled.

“Ed, it’s Stone. You’ve heard about the two missing women?”

“They’re not missing any more,” Rawls said. “They found the first body this morning. I’ve just come back from working with one of the search parties. Somebody in a boat who was patrolling the beach found the second body in the water a hundred yards out early this evening.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Stone said.

“Why did you call?”

“Holly is missing. She went out for a run hours ago and never came back. At least, I assume she went running; she didn’t take a car.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Rawls said…

Chapter 41

STONE SAT IN THE darkening study, waiting for Sergeant Young to call him back. Lance. He should call Lance. He dialed his cell phone number and immediately got Lance.

“I’m out of the office,” Lance’s voice said, “and it’s unlikely I’ll be able to return calls for a day or two. You can leave a message, if you like.”

“Lance, it’s Stone. Holly is missing, has been gone for several hours. This is very alarming because two women were murdered on the island yesterday. I’ve notified the state police, who are conducting a search of the whole island anyway. If you get a chance, call me and tell me if you have any ideas.” He hung up.

Stone heated up some of the beef stew Mabel had prepared, but he couldn’t eat much. He wanted a drink or some wine with dinner, but he felt he had to keep a clear head. But for what? Young hadn’t called him back, he couldn’t reach Lance, and Holly might be out there somewhere, dying. He couldn’t imagine how someone could take her, armed and prepared as she was. He called Ed Rawls.

“Ed, Holly still isn’t back, but something occurred to me.”

“Tell me.”

“Sergeant Young believes that whoever took the two women yesterday was known to them. It occurs to me that, since Holly was armed, she may have know her kil… her abductor. She’s not the sort of person to be taken easily.”

“Makes sense to me,” Rawls said. “Who’ve you got in mind?”

“I don’t know; that’s the problem. She hardly knows anybody on the island.”

“Who, exactly, does she know?”

“She knows Seth and Mabel Hotchkiss, but they’re not candidates for this. She knows Sergeant Young, and he’s not a candidate, either. And she knows…” Stone stopped.

“Who, Stone?”

“Hal Rhinehart.”

“Who?”

“The cabinetmaker north of the village.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew his old man. You think he’s a candidate?”

“He has a criminal background,” Stone said. “Dino and I busted him for a string of burglaries years ago, and he did four years or so.”

“Have you told this to Young?”

“No, he hasn’t returned my call. I can’t get hold of Lance, either.”

“Why don’t you and I pay Rhinehart a visit? I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”

“Okay, and bring your shotgun.” He hung up.

Stone armed himself, put on a jacket and waited at the end of the driveway for Rawls, who turned up quickly in his Range Rover. He got into the car.

“Tell me about this guy,” Rawls said.

“Master burglar, very sharp mind.”

“How’d he meet Holly?”

“I took her to his workshop; she wanted to meet him for herself. We both eliminated him as a suspect after that visit. The guy has a successful business, which he inherited from his father, and he has a wife and a baby. He seemed stable and happy with his circumstances.”

“Is he strong enough to overpower Holly?”

“Yes, if he could neutralize her before she could get hold of her weapon.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Rawls said.

They had passed through the village and were headed north. “There’s the sign up ahead,” Stone said. “Drive on past, and we’ll work our way back.”

Rawls drove past the house without slowing and, when he saw a narrow road to the right, cut his lights and turned in, using his gears to slow the big vehicle so as not to use his brakes, thus turning on the brake lights. Through the trees on their right they could see both the workshop and the house. The workshop was dark, but lights burned in the house windows.

“How do you want to do this?” Rawls asked, grabbing his shotgun from the rear seat.

“First, let’s check the workshop and any outbuildings,” Stone said. “Then we’ll see what we can see through the house windows.”

“All right. Is this guy likely to have an alarm system?”

“Yes,” Stone said. “Come on.” He began walking through the trees toward the workshop, and Rawls followed.

HOLLY CAME TO SLOWLY. Her head hurt on the right side. She tried to put a hand to it, but found herself spread-eagled on a bed, her hands and feet tied. Her mouth was taped shut, and so were her eyes. There was something in each ear, too, shutting out sound.

All she could do was smell, and she concentrated on that. Mildew. Maybe saltwater. She tried rolling back and forth on the bed as far as she could, to see if she could feel the weight of her firearm. She thought it was still there. The bed made squeaking noises. Bare springs under a thin mattress. The mildew smell was coming from the mattress. Old. Disused. She thought she picked up the smell of rotting wood, too.