I recognized the voice. Elias Boyd, who had been pretending to be Katherine Anne Koenigslutter’s lawyer when he showed up at the house. And who might or might not be her half brother, depending on how badly AcerGen’s lab had screwed things up.
“Get moving,” he said. “And put your hands in the air.”
“Moving where?” I asked, hoping I could get away with not putting my hands in the air—maybe I could manage to turn on my phone and use it to notify someone that I was in trouble.
“I said hands in the air!” He shoved me roughly, and I instinctively pulled my hands out of my pockets so I could break my fall if I couldn’t keep on my feet. I stumbled forward a few steps and managed not to fall.
“Keep going,” he said. “And bear left.”
We were going along the side of the clinic now. It didn’t have a lot of windows, and what few there were had their blinds tightly drawn against the cold and dark. I kept looking for something I could stumble against, something that would cause enough noise to make someone inside curious. But we weren’t going anywhere near the Dumpster or the chain-link-enclosed exercise yards, and Clarence had done an annoyingly good job of keeping the premises neat and free of junk.
The section of parking lot along the side of the building hadn’t been cleared as recently as the front, making it slower going. I tried to exaggerate how much it hindered my steps.
And then I hit the patch of open land behind the building and no longer had to exaggerate how much the snow slowed me down. It was like in one of those dreams where you’re in slow motion and every step takes an eternity.
I welcomed the obstacle. Every step took us closer to the woods. Closer to the point when no potential rescuers could see me.
Boyd wasn’t happy about our slow pace.
“Get a move on.” He emphasized this with another shove from the gun. I stumbled again, and fell to my knees, but I couldn’t figure out any way to leverage this into an escape attempt or a feint for the gun, so I settled for getting up as slowly as I could manage.
“You’re not helping, you know,” he said.
“Why don’t you just tell me what you want from me?” I asked.
“Right now, I just want you to keep walking.”
And now we were in the woods, with the visible holiday lights rapidly fading behind us. The snow wasn’t as deep under the tree canopy, and you could hardly see any falling. Then we reached a small clearing where the snow was at least half a foot deep and we could see the flakes coming down heavily again.
“This’ll do,” he said. “Take your coat off.”
I turned to look at him. He didn’t object—he just took a few steps back and stood there, smirking at me.
“You want me to do what?” I asked.
“Take your coat off,” he said. “And your hat and gloves, too. Now!”
I shed my wraps as slowly as I could and dropped them nearby, where I could grab them again if I got a chance. Although I suspected he wasn’t planning to give me one.
“You can sit down if you like,” he said. He followed his own advice, dusting off a section of a nearby fallen tree and half sitting, half leaning against it.
“So you’re just going to sit there and watch while I freeze to death?” I asked.
“Pretty much,” he said. “Doesn’t take long in this kind of weather. Once you’re unconscious, I’ll arrange it so it looks like you wandered out here by accident.”
“You don’t think the fact that I’m not wearing a coat will be a dead giveaway?” I asked.
“Happens all the time with hypothermia victims,” he said. “It’s called paradoxical undressing. For some reason, when you get really far along, your body tricks you into thinking you’re burning up instead of freezing, and you start shedding clothes.”
“Still, this is going to take a while,” I said.
“Not as long as you think.” His wolfish grin was not reassuring. Especially since I was already having a hard time not shivering.
“Then maybe you should distract me.” I said. “So I’ll forget about trying to figure out how to get the drop on you while we wait. Tell me: How did you find Ian? Who told you he was going to be here in Caerphilly?”
“He did.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Of course, he didn’t know it was me he was telling. He thought he was talking to the detective in charge of the Cyrus Runk case. I set up a Gmail with a variation on the guy’s name and told him I was using that because of leaks in the department.”
“You catfished him.”
“Worked like a charm. And then I figured out how to leak his whereabouts to a couple of other people who had it in for him.”
“Cyrus Runk and your half sister,” I said.
“Yeah. I figured the cops would think one or the other of them had done it.”
“So you steered them toward the Virginia Crime Time message boards and leaked Ian’s whereabouts there.”
He wasn’t expecting me to know that—I could tell from his quick frown. He recovered almost immediately and pretended nonchalance.
“Yeah. Like I said, it all worked like a charm. Aren’t you starting to feel sleepy yet?”
“Not yet. And of course we’ve figured out why you wanted to kill Ian.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Because he knew you weren’t really Katherine Anne Koenigslutter’s half brother.”
It was only a guess, but from the expression of shock and anger on his face I knew I’d guessed right.
“Beep! Wrong!” he said. “Try again.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I said. “You assumed that with Ian gone, AcerGen would do its best to hush up the quality control problems with its DNA testing program. Maybe even work out some kind of settlement with Ms. Koenigslutter to compensate her for what you’d taken away from her.”
“Compensate her.” Boyd snorted. “She’s rolling in dough. Been living high on that great big farm all her life, in the lap of luxury. She can afford to give me a little.”
If Ms. Koenigslutter had been living on a farm all her life, chances were she’d been working hard rather than living high. I’d come to know a lot of farmers since moving to Caerphilly, and not a one of them lived in the lap of luxury. But I didn’t think Boyd would understand that. And besides—
“That argument might work if you actually were related to her,” I said. “And had even the slightest claim to her inheritance. But you don’t.”
“Good thing I’m getting rid of you,” he said. “You’ve figured out way too much. And here I thought all I had to worry about was you seeing me running away from the skating rink.
“Actually, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, right. Then why did you say you did?”
“I was bluffing,” I said. “To chase away anyone who might be there. I did see something, but only out of the corner of my eye, and it could just as easily have been an owl or a fox. So it’s not as if I can identify you.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “That’s what you say now. Bet your eyesight would improve pretty miraculously if they put you on the witness stand. Plus you took a picture of me when I was running away.”
“I did what?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t. I saw you holding up your phone.”
“I was talking to the nine-one-one operator,” I said. “And even if I had tried to take a picture, how recognizable do you think you’d be in an iPhone photo taken in the middle of the night at fifty or sixty yards?”
“You’d be surprised what they can do these days, those prosecutors,” he said.
“There is no photo—let me get out my phone and I’ll show you.”
“Keep your hands out of your pockets,” he said. “I’ll get your phone and delete the photo once you’re out of it.”
I racked my brain for something else I could do. Maybe the cold was starting to affect me. Over Boyd’s shoulder—behind his back—did I really see someone approaching? Or was it only wishful thinking—maybe even a hallucination. Hard to see anything given how heavily the snow was falling by now, but it looked like a cloaked figure. I’d given up the battle to keep my teeth from chattering. Yes, definitely a cloaked figure. And carrying a staff. It looked like Gandalf at the Pass of Caradhras. Obi-Wan Kenobi striding across snow instead of the Tatooine desert. Father Merrin the exorcist looming out of a foggy Georgetown street. Were hallucinations another symptom of impending death from hypothermia?
“You’re not fooling me, you know,” Boyd said. “I know damn well there’s no one sneaking up behind me, so stop pretending—”
That was when Grandfather hit him over the head with his hiking staff.
The blow knocked Boyd unconscious, and he sprawled limply on the snow. Grandfather darted over to him, bent down, and then retreated back to a safe distance.
“I’ve got his gun,” Grandfather announced. “I’ll keep him covered while you tie him up.”
“I’m not sure my fingers are working well enough to tie him up,” I said. “And tie him up with what?”
“Well, then, put your coat back on.” I was already doing that. “And we’ll figure out something. Reinforcements should be turning up soon anyway—I called nine-one-one to tell them which way I was heading.”
“I gather you saw him capture me.” Having my coat, hat, and gloves back on was helping, but I was still shivering and trying to keep my teeth from chattering.
“No,” he said. “Maeve remembered you saying you’d gone outside to get some fresh air, but I didn’t figure anyone would want all that much fresh air in weather like this, so when I didn’t find you nearby, I pulled out my phone and checked on the little GPS thingie I hid in your coat.”
I should have known.
“When did you manage that?”
“Earlier tonight, out at the zoo,” he said. “While you were in talking with the chief. Seemed to me that with the two main suspects locked up, everyone was getting a little smug and complacent. And you were the one who might be in the most danger. So I slipped one into the lining of your coat. Aren’t you glad I ignored your telling me not to do that anymore?”
“Very glad.” And I was, even though I knew we’d never hear the end of this. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
“Oh, you’d have figured out a way to deal with him sooner or later,” he said.
Meanwhile I’d cautiously moved closer to Boyd.
“It looks as if he’s got those really heavy-duty unbreakable boot laces in his boots,” I said.
“The kind with Kevlar in them?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “They really make Kevlar boot laces?”
“Of course,” he said. “Standard equipment these days if you’re going on a real hike.”
“Well, even if these aren’t Kevlar, they look pretty strong,” I said. “If you keep the gun on him, I’ll take them out of his boots and tie him up.”
“Good idea.” Grandfather nodded his approval. “If they break, we’re no worse off than we are now.”
“Maybe better off,” I said. “I’ll take his boots off while I’m at it. I doubt if he’ll want to do much walking in his stocking feet in this weather.”
Boyd remained unconscious while I untied his boots and pulled them off. He only moaned slightly when I pulled his hands together and tied them behind his back. I was a little alarmed when I saw a small pool of blood flowing over the snow, but it turned out to be a nosebleed,
“It looks as if he broke his nose when he fell,” I reported.
“Here.” Grandfather handed me a more-or-less clean handkerchief. “You can staunch the bleeding with that.”
I wadded the handkerchief against Boyd’s nose and then stepped back, out of his reach. If he needed more than cursory first aid, he’d have to get it from someone he hadn’t tried to murder.
He was starting to come around—and cursing a blue streak—by the time Vern and Aida appeared. Closely followed by Dad and the chief.
“Here comes the cavalry,” I said. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be inside where it’s warm.”
I was so cold I was actually looking forward to having a cup of Clarence’s wretched coffee.