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sounds like Grahame Tichnor." He sounded weary. "Not the first time we've had problems with him, but this is unusual, even for him. I'll come out and have a look around and then you should come down to the station and have a look at some photos, see if you can identify him."
    I irrationally thought of all the work I'd planned for today. "But I'm sort of busy right now--"
    "Me too," the sheriff said good-naturedly. "It will only take a minute."
    I sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. When can you get here?"
    "About a half hour. I doubt our friend will be back any time soon, he's just not the type. But just to be sure, I'll have a car swing by the Point every so often, keep an eye out. And you tell Ms. Westlake to lock up good, come night. I'll see you shortly."
    I hung up and watched as Pauline came in and began to clear up her breakfast things.
    "What'd he say?" she asked.
    "He's coming out. He said to tell you to lock up at night and that they'd send someone around every once in a while, just as a precaution. You put your alarm on every night, right?"
    Pauline looked back over her shoulder and shrugged. "I forget mostly. Who'd want my old things anyway?"
    "Pauline, don't be funny! Never mind your stuff, I'm worried about you! Promise me you'll set your alarm and be careful!"
    "I wish you wouldn't make such an issue about the alarm," Pauline said. "I'm not the one he was pointing that horrible thing at. I'm more concerned about you." She took a towel down from the dish rack, and turned to face me as she dried her hands off, leaning against the island.
    "Paul, an issue? You need to take care! All sorts of things are happening around here--yesterday a body on the beach, and now this guy--Tichnor, his name is--"
    "Oh Lord. That poor excuse for a--"
    "--he's dangerous! He had a gun !"
    Pauline waved my concerns aside. "Don't fret so, I managed to totter round the globe several times before you were born without coming to too much grief. I think I can just about manage locking the door at night. Grahame Tichnor has been a nuisance for more years than anyone cares to count; I'm not afraid of him and he's not worth your worry. I'm not going to let some noisome little cretin boss me around my own place. And anyway, I've got people coming tonight, and I'll be in Boston all next week, and the beginning of the next--so don't worry about me. Honestly. I'm more worried about you. That must have been terrifying--"
    "I'm fine," I insisted. "I'm just a little ... pumped, is all." And I was fine, I told myself. Absolutely.
    "If you're sure." Pauline folded the towel, gave me a peck on the cheek, and the matter was closed. The phone rang. "I'll just take it in the other room, dear. And yes, for you, I'll set the damned alarm."
    I went back toward the door, but something made me stop. Through the window I could hear Meg talking to the other students about the incident.
    "--I just couldn't believe it!"
    "What did you do?" Alan asked. He'd been following Meg around the site ever since she'd arrived.
    "Me? Nothing. There was nothing I could have done, without getting--"
    "What did Emma do?" I heard Dian ask.
    "She was the amazing one," Meg said. "She just stared him out, didn't back off or anything. The wilder he got, the calmer she got, just like a standoff. It was un- real ."
    "No way!"
    "I'm telling you, she's got icewater for blood!"
    Utter nonsense. It was at that point that I decided to go out there and explain exactly what happened and how there was nothing heroic in what I had done, or more precisely, not done, but when I reached for the door I realized that I was trembling violently again. I couldn't feel my fingers, and the acid weight congealed in my stomach. Instead of going outside, I went into the little bathroom off the kitchen and ran hot water over my wrists until I was sure the trembling had stopped.
    By the time I'd recovered my composure, answered the rest of the questions the students had, and got them settled into work, a new

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