And slowly she turned to ice.

Then steel.

No one was going to hurt that little girl.

“Uh-uh,” she said softly. She kept her voice low, even. “Not a chance.”

Paulie’s head jerked up like he’d been slapped. He stared at her like she was a stranger. Obviously he’d expected a different reaction.

“Hey, Poppy, we gotta do it.”

“Really? Says who?”

“Mac. I told you—”

“Mac says, ‘Jump,’ and you say, ‘How high?’ That how it goes?”

“You think I want to do this? You think I want to hurt a kid? Christ, gimme a break! But this is Mac’s gig.”

“I don’t care if this is God’s gig—no one’s touching that kid.” She started to turn away but he grabbed her arm.

“Look. Mac wanted us to send the guy one of her fingers. I talked him down to a toe. A toe. Poppy! A freaking little toe! She’ll never miss it!”

Poppy wrenched her arm free. “Not a fingernail, Paulie! Not a hair! You got that?”

“It’s got to be done. Poppy!”

She went to the guest room door, turned, and faced him.

“Over my dead body.”

She could see that Paulie didn’t really believe her. How was she going to convince him? How could she stop him?

He took a step toward her. “With or without you, it’s gotta be done.”

“Through me first, Paulie. You’re gonna have to beat me to a total pulp before you get to her. I know you can do it. But will you do it? I hope not. I don’t think it’s in you. But if you do, you better kill me. That’s all I can say, Paulie—you better kill me. ‘Cause if you don’t, and you hurt that little girl, I’ll kill you. Some night when you’re sleeping, I’ll put a knife through your heart. That’s my promise: You hurt that kid and some morning real soon you’re gonna wake up dead.”

He stood and stared at her, his hands opening and closing at his sides.

“Christ! You’re really serious!”

She nodded. Yeah, she was. And that amazed her. She barely knew this little Katie and yet she was ready to die for her. What the hell was going on?

“You’re forgetting Mac, aren’t you?” he said. “We don’t do what he wants, we could all wake up dead. And then he can take any damn part of her he feels like.”

That shook her. Paulie was right. Mac wanted what he wanted. He was paying you, he expected you to take orders. Who knew what he’d do if they told him to shove his persuader.

Paulie ran both hands through his hair. “This is just great! I do what Mac wants, you’ll kill me. I do what you want, Mac kills me. How the fuck did I get into this?”

Poppy felt sorry for him. She was putting him in a real jam. She didn’t want to see Katie or Paulie hurt.

“There’s got to be like some way out of this,” she said.

“Yeah?” Paulie said. “Like how? Mac wants a piece of her to send to her father. He’s not going to settle for anything less.”

Poppy didn’t know where the idea came from—she just blurted it out: “All right. Send one of my toes.”

Paulie gaped at her. “Are you nuts? That’s not only crazy, that’s stupid. Like her father ain’t gonna know the difference. What’s happened to you. Poppy? What is it with you and this kid? I thought you hated kids.”

“I… I do,” she said. “But not this one.” Poppy leaned back against the door. Suddenly she felt miserable. Her ice and steel were melting away. She was all shaky inside.

“Can we call a truce?” she said.

“Sure.” Paulie had his hands on his hips and was walking around in circles. “But that’s not gonna help us when Mac calls back with the address of where I’m supposed to deliver his persuader. What do I tell him then?”

“We’ll think of something.”

He stopped and stared at her. He looked worried— real worried. “Don’t be so sure.”

“I think I need a hug,” she said, taking a small step toward him.

He continued to stare at her, then shook his head and opened his arms. He wasn’t smiling—she could tell he was a long way from that—but she really did need a hug.

She fell against him and clutched him to her.

“Don’t let’s fight, Paulie. We’re in this together, and together we’re bigger and better than Mac.”

“I ain’t so sure of that. One thing’s for sure, we ain’t meaner. And that’s gonna get us in trouble.”

“We’ll think of something.”

“We’d better.” He kissed the top of her head. “You make me crazy, you know that? You’ll be the death of me yet.”

Poppy clutched him tighter. Dear God, she hoped not.

8

Daniel Keane watched his grandson swing from rung to rung on the jungle gym and felt a little sick. Not because he feared he might fall. No, in this upscale Mclean, Virginia, playground, the ground under the slides and swings and jungle gym was padded. Danny had already fallen twice and bounced right back up again.

Little Danny—five years old, named after his grandpa, and full of boundless energy. A regular little monkey on those bars. But thinking of Danny and how precious he was to everyone who knew him led to thoughts of John Vanduyne’s little girl. And thus the nausea.

Dan knew her name… Katie… knew everything about her and her father. And he’d fed all that information to Carlos Salinas. Who used it to kidnap her.

Dan didn’t know for sure that it had been done, but he’d checked on Vanduyne yesterday and learned that he’d left his office almost immediately after arriving, and hadn’t been heard from since. Dan had a pretty good— and pretty sickening—idea what that meant.

That poor man. What he must be feeling.

Dan tried to imagine what it would be like to hear that someone had kidnapped Danny. He found it beyond comprehension.

And that little girl… the terror of being snatched from the street or wherever it was and kept prisoner by strangers. He swallowed back a surge of bile.

God, he hoped they were treating her all right, that they’d let her go unharmed when this was all over.

But he had no control over any of it. He’d fed the stuff to that human slug, Salinas, and that was it. Dan had made suggestions as to how to best put it to use, but the final decision was up to Salinas.

He tried to concentrate on Danny. This was a sort of farewell trip to his favorite park. Carmella was taking their daughter and the grandchildren to their Florida condo for a couple of weeks. Dan would have loved to go along, to sit in the purifying rays of the sun and try to forget what was happening here. But he had to stay. Especially now that Winston had dropped his decriminalization bomb.

And now, when the wheels were in motion and he couldn’t reverse them, he had to ask himself whether he’d do the same if he could go back and relive the past couple of months.

Yes. He doubted he’d change a thing. Because too much hung in the balance. This was so much bigger than the well-being of one little girl. A whole nation was at stake, a nation full of little girls like Katie Vanduyne… and little boys like Danny.

“Don’t blame me,” he whispered to no one.

Blame that lousy, spineless excuse for a president. The country was already in the toilet, but legalizing drugs would pull the plunger. Tom Winston couldn’t be talked out of this mad crusade—God knew how many people had tried—so he had to be taken out.

Even if it meant colluding with people Dan despised more than the President. It was, quite literally, a deal with the Devil, and if he burned in hell for it, so be it. Somebody had to stop Winston.

Daniel Keane sent up a prayer—not for himself, but for that little girl. He prayed that this crazy, brass-balled scheme would work out with no one getting hurt…

Except the President.