They dragged her down through the sand, and she shook her head back and forth, screaming inside, No!

Cates, the ponytailed bastard, yanked her into the water.

Karen kneed him in the groin. He howled and then spun in rage. “Goddamn it!” and kicked her in the stomach. He dropped her at last, face-first, in the shallow water. Exhausted, out of resistance. Forcing Karen’s face under the warm foam.

“Heard the jet stream’s nice this time of year.” Cates chuckled. “Shouldn’t be too bad.”

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE

It took just minutes, Hauck’s Bronco speeding down Route 1 with its top hat flashing, for him to pull outside the house on Sea Wall.

Two local blue-and-whites had already beaten him there.

Hauck noticed Karen’s white Lexus parked in front of the garage. He grabbed his gun and slid out of the Bronco, favoring his right leg. Two uniformed cops, each carrying lit Maglites, were exiting the front door. He recognized one from the station, Torres. Hauck went up to them, clutching his side.

“Anyone inside?”

Torres shrugged. “There was a dog locked in one of the rooms, Lieutenant. Other than that, negative.”

That didn’t wash. Karen’s car was here. If they had come after him, it seemed inevitable that they had come after her. “What about Mrs. Friedman? Did you check upstairs?”

“All over the house, Lieutenant. O’Hearn and Pallacio are still in there.” The officer’s eyes fell to Hauck’s side. “Jesus, sir…”

Hauck headed past him into the open house, the patrolman left staring at the trail of blood.

He called out, “Karen?” No reply. Hauck’s heart started to beat wildly. He heard barking. Officer Pallacio came down the stairs, with his gun drawn.

“Fucking dog.” He shook his head. “Shot by me like a Formula One.” He looked surprised to see Hauck. “Lieutenant!”

“Is anybody here?” Hauck demanded.

“No one, sir. Just Rin Tin Tin out there.” He pointed out back.

“Did you check the basement?”

The cop nodded. “All over, sir.”

Shit. Karen’s car was here. Maybe she had gone to her friend’s… He racked his brain. What was her name? Paula. Hauck’s gaze fixed on a roll of packing tape on a chair. A pile of mail and magazines were scattered about the floor. The French doors leading to the patio were ajar-Tobey barking like crazy out there.

He didn’t like what he was feeling at all.

He went through the doors and looked out at the yard. The night was bright, clear. He smelled the nearby sound. The dog was on the deck, barking nonstop. Clearly upset.

“Where the hell is she, Tobey?” Hauck sucked in a breath. Every time he did, it killed him.

Limping, he made his way into the backyard. There was a small pool out there, a couple of chaises. Every instinct in his body told him Karen was in danger. She had talked with Charles. She knew. He should never have let her come back here without him. Why would it make sense to silence only him?

Farther along, his eyes were drawn to something lying in the grass.

Shoes. Karen’s. The ones she’d been wearing earlier tonight. A pattering of nerves drummed up in him. The beating in his heart intensified.

“Karen?” he called.

Why would they be out here?

He looked further. There was some gardening equipment on the ground, a plastic watering jug. Near the end of the yard, he came upon a wooden gate-unlatched. It opened to a narrow wooded path. He went through it. Hauck suddenly realized what it was.

It led around to the end of the town road off Surfside.

To Teddy’s Beach.

He heard a voice from behind him. “Lieutenant, you need any help out there?”

Clutching his gun, forcing the pain out of his mind, Hauck stepped along the path. He pushed a few branches out of his way. After thirty or forty yards, weaving behind other houses on Sea Wall, he saw the opening to the town road.

He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Karen!”

No reply.

Something on the ground caught Hauck’s eye. He knelt, almost buckling from the surge of pain shooting through his thigh.

A sliver of fabric. Orange.

His heart stopped still. Karen had been wearing an orange top.

A tremor of dread rose up in him. He looked out toward the beach. Oh, Jesus. He did his best to run.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO

Her face was pressed under the surface, breath tightening in her lungs, flailing at him with her arms, Cates’s strong hands pinning the back of her head.

Karen had fought him with everything she had. Clawing, trying to bite his arm, gasping to suck a gulp of precious air into her lungs. Once she even pulled him over on top of her, amusing Dietz, getting Cates all soaked, and he drew his fist to her face in a menacing rage. “Jesus, Cates, what a fucking woman!” she heard Dietz cackle.

Karen spit water out of her mouth and tried to scream. He dunked her under again.

Now it was ending. Cates had finally ripped off the tape from her mouth, and she was taking in water, gasping for breath with every last ounce of strength, coughing, but he cupped his hand over her mouth and forced her back down before she could scream.

And who would hear anyway? Who would hear in time? Her thoughts flashed to Ty. Oh, please…please… Now water was pouring in. She twisted away from his grasp a last time, gagging. This was it. She could no longer fight it. In desperation, Karen reached back, vainly trying to claw at the bastard’s leg.

She heard him shout, “How’s the temperature, bitch?”

A desperate will fought the urge to simply open her mouth, just surrender. Give herself over to the dark tide. She thought of Sam and Alex.

No, Karen, no…

Don’t think of them. Please… That would mean this is it. Don’t give in.

Then the denial inside her slowly relaxing, her mind wandering amid her last futile throes to an image that even in her greatest fear surprised her: an island, palms bending in the breeze, someone on the white sand, in a baseball cap, stepping toward her.

Waving.

Karen stepped toward him. Oh, God…

Just as the hand that pinned her under the dark water suddenly seemed to release.

HAUCK STAGGERED UP out of the grasses over the dune, his leg exploding in agony.

From thirty yards away, he spotted the man kneeling above her in the water, pressing her face down. Someone else-Dietz, he was certain-standing a few yards back on the beach, seemingly amused by things.

“Karen!”

He stepped forward, steadying his gun with two hands in a shooter’s position, just as the man kneeling over Karen looked up.

The first shot hit him in the shoulder, jerking him backward in surprise. The second and the third thudded solidly into his print beach shirt, spewing red. The man toppled into the water and didn’t move.

Karen rolled over and put a hand up in the soft tide.

“Karen!”

Hauck took a step toward her and at the same time spun on Dietz, who was scrambling along the sand, drawing his weapon. The bright moon had illuminated the first guy on the water, but it was dark. Dietz was like a shadow on the move. Hauck squeezed off a shot. It missed him. The next struck him in the knee as he tried to make a run toward the jetty. He pulled up, hobbling like a colt that had broken its leg.

Hauck ran, labored, toward Karen.

Slowly, she rolled over in the shallow surf, gagging, coughing up water. She pushed herself up on her elbows and knees. In horror, she stared at Cates’s wide-eyed shape-next to her, faceup in the water, and backed away as if it were something vile. She turned to Hauck, tears and disbelief in her wet eyes.

But Dietz had moved into position behind her, placing her directly in Hauck’s line of sight. He had his gun aimed at Hauck, momentarily shielded behind Karen.

“Let her go,” Hauck said. He kept stepping forward. “Let her go, Dietz. There’s no way out.” He steadied his gun at Dietz’s chest. “You might imagine just how much I’d relish doing this.”