"Will he? I wouldn't count on it."

"He'll have to. Now two people know. And soon more will. He grabbed a jacket that had been hanging over the back of a chair. "He's beaten. But still I've got to see him." Anger flashed in his eyes. "Using my implants for something like this! I've a good mind to . . . " He didn't finish the thought.

Instead, he pointed to the bottle on the table.

"Can I take that with me? " Gin grabbed it and held it tight in her fist.

"No. Sorry. This is the only proof I've got that I didn't make all this up. I'm not letting it out of my sight. And you realize, don't you, that as soon as you confront him he'll know how you found out and he'll know where I am. And since I have the only hard proof against him, I think maybe I'll disappear for a while."

"Good idea. Don't even tell me where you're going, just in case, '' He shook his head to clear it. "Who'd ever believe I'd be thinking this way about my brother? " "I know how you feel. Can you call me a cab?

" Another shiver rattled her teeth as Oliver was phoning the cab company.

She was definitely getting a fever. She hoped whatever was infecting her wasn't penicillin resistant.

'"They'll have one here in about ten minutes, " Oliver said. "I'm going to call Duncan. ' '"No! " "Just to see if he's home. No sense in going over there if he's not in." He dialed, waited, then said, "Duncan. It's me. We need to talk. No, in person. I'll explain when I get there. See you in a few minutes. ' He hung up and bustled toward the door. "Wish me luck, " he said. "And lock the door as you leave. ' Gin shivered again as the front door closed behind Oliver.

It was almost over. Duncan was at his place, Oliver was on his way there, a cab was on its way here. But where was she going?

Not another hotel. She couldn't stand the thought of another strange little box with a bed and a TV that passed for a room.

Her folks' place? The old homestead. The thought comforted her.

She'd make a quick stop at her apartment for a change of clothes, then head over to Arlington. She'd be safe there. Another chill wracked her. And warm.

Where was that cab? She took a look our the window but the driveway was empty.

She went down the hall and found Oliver's bathroom. On the top shelf of the medicine cabinet she found a thermometer. She rinsed it off, shook it down, and stuck it in her mouth. After a couple of minutes she checked it, 102.4 degrees.

No wonder I'm shivering, she thought. I'm sick.

Well, she had two grams of amoxicillin perking through her bloodstream.

It had to kick in soon. She'd left her Tylenol at the hotel, so she took a few of Oliver's.

A car horn honked outside. She hurried back to the living room and peeked out a corner of the front window. Her heart was pounding, from fever as much as fear.

If I've fallen into a B movie, she thought, there'll be a black Mercedes idling out there.

But no. It was a Diamond cab. She hurried outside, thinking that if she were in a real schlock movie, Duncan would be behind the wheel, disguised as the driver. But a black face peered out the driver window as she approached and pushed open the rear door from inside.

'"Where we going? " She gave him her address and they were off. She huddled in the back seat, shivering.

"Would you mind turning up the heat? " she said.

She was so cold her teeth were chattering.

Duncan sat mute, shaken. Oliver's arrival had taken him completely by surprise. He'd never seen his brother like this. He'd burst in and immediately launched into a blistering verbal attack. Duncan didn't know which shocked him more, Oliver's nakedX self-righteous anger, or the fact that Gin had reached Oliver and told him everything.

The words poured out of Oliver in a steady, rapid-fire fusillade. Not just his anger, but the story of Gin slicing open her own leg in that hotel room and removing an implant with drugstore equipment.

Despite his ongoing shock, Duncan had to admire the unwavering determination and pure guts Gin had shown. He doubted he'd have been able to do the same had situations been reversed. But he was glad he hadn't underestimated Gin. He'd half anticipated this. That young woman did not know the meaning of the word quit. And she was as intent as ever on stopping him.

And she just might. His whole world seemed about to crumble around him.

Visions of headlines and courtrooms and, Lord, prison swirled around him. Everything was falling apart, He shook off the visions. He had to settle down and deal with Oliver.

The situation was still salvageable, barely. He'd have to move fast.

But before he could do anything, he'd have to neutralize Oliver.

"What did she tell you, what exactly did she say she removed from her leg? " Duncan said.

"An implant, one of my implants, filled with TPD, of all things. " Duncan shot from his seat and adopted a fiercely indignant pose. "And you believe this fantastic story? " But Oliver wasn't backing down.

He leaned into Duncan's face.

"She's got the bloody implant in a bottle. She showed me. She's got a fresh incision on her leg. She showed me that too.

She knows about TPD, Duncan. How could she know about TPD if she didn't find it in your office as she says? And on the way over here, I remembered our discussion about my rogues' gallery earlier this year and telling you about TPD. You were very interested, wanted to know all about it. And tonight I couldn't find my sample bottle in the gallery.

Where's my TPD, Duncan? " Damn it. He was caught. No way to deny this. But worse was the look in Oliver's eyes. The almost worshipful regard was gone, replaced by anger and . . . fear.

My brother fevrs me.

That hurt. But no less than he deserved.

Don't fear me, Oliver. Even if I can't explain the TPD.

TPD. That was the rock-steady anchor of Gin's story. He could ascribe everything else she'd said or done to mental illness of one form or another. But that damn TPD . . . that was real. Oliver knew it better than anyone. And he'd already guessed that on one of his visits to his home, Duncan had crept down to the basement and removed the world's last remaining sample.

"Answer me, Duncan, Oliver said. "Where is it and what have you been doing with it? " No sense in denying he'd taken it. He slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"It's downstairs." He turned and began walking away. "I'll show you.

" Duncan's admission worked a dramatic change in Oliver's demeanor.

Suddenly he was solicitous.

"You've been working too hard, Duncan, " he said as he followed him to the cellar. "I've warned you about that. You need a long rest and .

. .

and maybe some . . . maybe you could talk to someone." '"You mean psychotherapy? " "Well, yes." Oliver was obviously uncomfortable telling his brother the doctor that he needed to see another doctor.

"I think that might be a good idea. I've been under terrible stress lately. And I never did get over Lisa's death . . .

finding her like that."

"I know, Duncan. You've been through a lot.

" Duncan turned on the lights. The basement was finished but dusty and musty. The previous owners had set it up as a game room but Duncan rarely set foot down here. He led Oliver to the center of the room, then stopped and looked around) feigning puzzlement.

"Now where did I put that? " He turned in a slow circle, then snapped his fingers. "I know. Walt here." He hurried for the stairs and bounded back up to the main floor where he shut the basement door and locked it. He heard Oliver rush up the steps, try the knob, then start pounding on the other side.

"Duncan! Duncan, don't do this! This is insane! " "Just one more thing left to do, Oliver, " Duncan said as he wedged one of the heavy kitchen chairs under the doorknob as a precaution. He braced the kitchen table behind that for extra insurance. "Make yourself comfortable down there. I'll let you OUt later when I'm through." No windows down there, no phone. Oliver would be neutralized until Duncan had finished what he had to do.