She flipped more pages.

Tetrodotoxin.

The word jumped out at her.

And beneath it another name and address.

She frantically flipped other pages. Nothing. No other writing for the rest of the notebook.

“You found what you were looking for?” Lynch asked.

“I think so. Maybe not enough. Give me a minute. I have to think about it.” She closed her eyes. Connect all the dots. Put it together.

Impossible. It was impossible.

But impossible was only a word.

And she was terrified that word had become reality.

“You’ll notice I’m being very patient,” Lynch said mildly.

She opened her eyes. “Come on.” She jumped out of the car. “Or give me your car keys. I don’t care which.”

“I’m coming. And it’s Nelson’s car.” He beat her to the car. “Where are we going?”

“I know the way. It’ll be quicker if I drive.” She held out her hand. “Please, don’t argue, Lynch. Not now.”

His gaze narrowed on her face, and he dropped the keys in her palm. “Though it’s against my better judgment. I’m not sure you’re in any shape to drive.”

“That makes two of us.” She got into the driver’s seat. “Get in, Lynch. We’ve got to get going.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Get in.” The car roared as she turned on the ignition. “I have to know…”

Coachella Valley, California

KENDRA PUT ON THE BRAKES, and the car skidded to a stop. She stared out into the darkness, her hands clenched on the steering wheel.

Fear.

Death.

It was here again, taking her breath, assaulting her.

“May I ask where we are?” Lynch asked. “What is this place?”

“Hell,” Kendra said unsteadily. “It’s hell.”

“Hell?” Lynch gazed thoughtfully at the cliffs and the rutted landscape. “Everyone has their own hell. I should have guessed this would be yours.” He gazed down into the deep gully a few yards away. “That’s the place where they discovered all those bodies. The place where you captured Colby.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t take her gaze from the gully. “The bodies have been gone a long time. Why do I still smell the stench?” She had to move. She couldn’t just sit here. She grabbed her computer and got out of the car. She knelt in the sand and flipped it open. She stayed there, staring blindly at the screen.

Do it.

Her shaking hands flew over the keys. She pulled up the site and scrolled down.

Find the name.

Find the name.

Find the name.

Halfway down the page she found the name.

She couldn’t breathe. She felt sick.

“Okay. Tell me. Let me do something besides worry, dammit.” Lynch was a shadow standing over her.

She nodded jerkily. “I was looking for a name. The name that was in Chatsworth’s notebook. I … found it.”

“Where?”

“San Quentin personnel.” She was dialing her phone. “But I have to be—it doesn’t have to be true. I have to call Warden Salazar.”

Salazar answered in three rings. He sounded drowsy. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this soon, Dr. Michaels. And certainly not at this hour of the night. Is there something I can do to help you?”

“Yes. I need information about someone on your staff. Edward Pralgo. Does he have a wife or daughter named Maria?”

“Yes, Maria Pralgo is his wife.” Salazar answered, puzzled. “Do you need to talk to her? I can give you Pralgo’s phone number, but he may be difficult to reach. He and Maria left on vacation this morning. Hawaii, I think. He said he needed it.” He added grimly. “I can’t blame him. We all need a spot of paradise after the ugliness we’ve gone through.”

“Give me the number.” She quickly took it down. “Thanks.”

“Do you need their address?”

“No, I have the address.” She hung up. The next moment, she was dialing the number she’d been given.

No answer.

No voice mail.

“The phone’s been turned off,” she told Lynch as she hung up. “And I’d bet that so have Pralgo and his wife, Maria.”

“Pralgo?”

“Dr. Edward Pralgo, the physician who was in attendance at Colby’s execution. It wasn’t coincidence that name was in Chatsworth’s notebook. He had a duty to perform.”

“Colby ordered him to kill the physician who was scheduled to perform his execution? Some kind of weird revenge?”

Kendra didn’t answer. She was once more delving into information on her laptop. She had to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.

Tetrodotoxin.

There it was, in as much detail as was available.

She carefully scanned the info, then slowly closed the computer. “No revenge. Not on Pralgo. He was just a means to an end.”

“What end?”

Her head lifted, and she gazed down at the gully. “Colby is still alive, Lynch.”

He was silent, his body stiffening with shock.

“No way,” he finally said. “It couldn’t happen. There are too many checks and balances. Even Salazar examined his dead body.”

“He’s alive. Chatsworth whispered two words to me before he died. One was Mereor. The other was tetrodotoxin.”

“Mereor means I win. The other?”

“The explanation of why he thought he and Colby had won. Tetrodotoxin is a substance sometimes called the Romeo drug because in the death scene Romeo used a drug that faked his death. It’s also known as the poison in pufferfish and has been used by voodoo shamans to induce zombification. It lowers your pulse and body temperature while also creating an artificial coma. Unless screened for, it can easily be mistaken for death. But it has to be properly administered, or it can cause the paralysis of the diaphragm and can actually cause death.” She swallowed hard. “Colby had no intention of dying in that execution chamber. He set Myatt to seeing that he had an out.”

“Pralgo?”

“The physician was in charge of administrating the fatal dose and declaring the criminal dead. He’d be the one to switch the doses. The tetrodotoxin would do the rest.”

“This is all supposition.”

“Until we find Pralgo. That may be difficult. My guess is that Maria Pralgo was kidnapped by Chatsworth and held captive to force Pralgo to do what Colby wanted. After the fake execution, Pralgo would have cleaned up any evidence of what he’d done and gone to a meeting place where he’d been promised that his wife would be released.” She shook her head. “Pralgo must have been desperate to believe that anything he could do could keep his wife from being killed.”

“You think they’re both dead?”

She nodded. “Chatsworth killed Dean, then had time to fly up to San Quentin and take care of Pralgo and his wife. I doubt if we’ll ever find them. Colby would have told Chatsworth that no one could know that he wasn’t dead.” She smiled bitterly. “And Chatsworth was always very efficient obeying Colby.”

“Colby’s body?”

“Probably cremated. Why don’t you check with Salazar?”

“I will.” He moved a few feet away and dialed his phone.

Kendra didn’t bother listening to him. She was only aware of the whistle of the wind through the canyons and the yawning cavity of the gully only yards away.

Are you out there, Colby?

“Immediate cremation.” Lynch was back. “And the remains tossed in the Pacific Ocean off the Oregon coast early this morning.”

“Chatsworth probably substituted bodies. And the funeral director will also have an unfortunate accident.”

“But Chatsworth is dead now.”

“That only means Colby will have to take care of his own dirty work.” She shuddered. “And he’s much better at it than Chatsworth.”

“You can’t be sure of any of this. No proof. Griffin would say that it’s your imagination brought on by stress.”

“And what do you say?”

“I say that you’re the smartest woman I know, but I hope to hell you’re wrong.”

“So do I.” She slowly got to her feet. “But I don’t believe that I’m that lucky.” She moved closer to the gully. There were rocks along the edge. She half expected to see one stained with blood, Colby’s blood. Crazy. She bent over and picked up a good-sized black rock and looked down at it. No blood, of course.