The Sleeping Doll (Kathryn Dance 1)

Instantly Dance and TJ were on their feet.

The young agent kicked Rebecca hard in the ribs and grabbed Pell's gun hand. They wrestled for control of the weapon, sliding to the floor.

"Call nine-one-one," Dance shouted to Nagle, who scrabbled for a phone.

She started for the guns on the table, recalling: Check your backdrop, aim, squeeze in bursts, count the rounds, at twelve drop the clip, reload. Check your backdrop . . .

Screaming from Nagle's wife, wailing from his daughter.

"Kathryn," TJ shouted breathlessly. She saw that Pell was twisting the gun toward her.

It fired.

The bullet streaked past her.

TJ was young and strong, but his wrists were still cuffed and Pell had desperation and adrenaline coursing through him. With his free hand he pounded at TJ's neck and head. Finally the killer broke away, holding the gun, as the young agent rolled desperately for cover under a table.

Dance struggled forward but knew she'd never make it to the weapons in time. TJ was dead. . . .

Then a huge explosion.

Another.

Dance dropped to her knees and looked behind her.

Morton Nagle had picked up one of their guns and was firing the weapon toward Pell. Clearly unfamiliar with guns, he jerked the trigger and the bullets were wide. Still he stood his ground and kept firing. "You son of a bitch!"

Crouching, hands up in a futile effort to protect himself, Pell cringed, hesitated a moment, fired one round into Rebecca's belly and then flung the door open and ran outside.

Dance took the gun from Nagle, grabbed TJ's as well and shoved it into his cuffed hands.

The agents got to the half-open door just as a round slammed into the jamb, peppering them with splinters. They jumped back, crouching. She fished the cuff keys from her jacket and undid the bracelets. TJ did the same.

Cautiously they glanced outside at the empty street. A moment later they heard the screech of an accelerating car.

Calling back to Nagle, "Keep Rebecca alive! We need her!" Dance ran to her car and grabbed the microphone off the dash. It slipped out of her shaking hands. She took a breath, controlled the tremors and called the Monterey Sheriff's Office.

Chapter 51

An angry man is a man out of control.

But Daniel Pell couldn't staunch the rage as he sped away from Monterey, replaying what had just happened. Kathryn Dance's voice, Rebecca's face.

Replaying the events of eight years ago too.

Jimmy Newberg, the goddamn computer freak, the doper, had said that he had inside information about William Croyton--thanks to a programmer who'd been fired six months earlier. He'd managed to find out Croyton's alarm code and had a key to the back door (though Pell now knew where he'd gotten those--from Rebecca, of course). Jimmy'd said too that the eccentric Croyton kept huge amounts of cash in the house.

Pell would never rob a bank or check-cashing operation, nothing big. But, still, he needed money to expand the Family and to move to his mountaintop. And here was a chance for a once-in-a-lifetime break-in. No one was going to be home, Jimmy said, so there'd be no risk of injuries. They'd walk away with a hundred thousand dollars, and Croyton would make a routine call to the police and the insurance company, then forget the matter.

Just what Kathryn Dance had figured.

The two men had snuck through the backyard and made their way to the house through the sumptuous landscaping. Pell had seen the lights on, but Jimmy told him they were on a timer for security. They slipped into the house through a side utility door.

But something wasn't right. The alarm was off. Pell turned to Jimmy to tell him that somebody must be home after all, but the young man was already hurrying into the kitchen.

Walking right up to the middle-aged woman cooking dinner, her back to him. No! Pell remembered thinking in shock. What was he doing?

Murdering her, it turned out.