The Sleeping Doll (Kathryn Dance 1)

The only reason the family weren't dead, Dance knew, was that Pell was controlling Nagle through them.

Patterns . . .

"Come on out here, baby, lend a hand."

Rebecca slid off the bed and joined them.

"Get their guns and phones." Pell held the gun to Dance's ear while Rebecca took her weapon. Then Pell told her to cuff herself.

She did.

"Not tight enough." He squeezed the bracelets and Dance winced.

They did the same with TJ and pushed both of them down on the couch.

"Watch it," TJ muttered.

Pell said to Dance, "Listen to me. You listening?"

"Yes."

"Is anybody else coming?"

"I didn't call anyone."

"That's not what I asked. You, being the ace interrogator, ought to know that." The essence of calm.

"As far as I know, no. I was coming here to ask Morton some questions."

Pell set their phones on a coffee table. "If anybody calls you, tell them that everything's fine. You'll be back at your headquarters in an hour or so. But you can't talk now. We clear on that? If not, I pick one of the kiddies in there and--"

"Clear," she said.

"Now, no more words from anybody. We've--"

"This is not smart," TJ said.

No, no, Dance thought. Let him control you! With Daniel Pell you can't be defiant.

Pell stepped up to him and, almost leisurely, touched his gun to the man's throat. "What did I tell you?"

The young man's flippancy was gone. "Not to say a word."

"But you did say something. Why would you do that? What a stupid, stupid thing to do."

He's going to kill him, Dance thought. Please, no. "Pell, listen to me--"

"You're talking too," the killer said, and swung the gun toward her.

"I'm sorry," TJ whispered.

"That's more words."

Pell turned to Dance. "I've got a few questions for you and your little friend here. But in a m

inute. You sit tight, enjoy the scene of domestic bliss." Then he said to Nagle, "Keep going."

Nagle returned to what was apparently the task Dance and TJ had interrupted: It seemed he was burning all of his notes and research material.