chair at the old enamel-topped table. In a flat tone, she asked, “What happened?”
He sipped his own coffee. All the humor was gone out of him, and his hands shook. “I guess he was right all along.” He did not meet her stare. “She’s gone.”
“Gone?” For an instant, her control slipped.
Gone?
She could hardly breathe past the thudding of her heart. “Is anybody looking for her?”
“The police,” he replied. “Mrs. Roman—did I tell you about her? She’s his lawyer. She went back to town after I got here—a couple hours ago. To light a fire under the Sheriff. Right now, every able-bodied cop in the county is probably out looking. The only reason you don’t see cars is because our Sheriff—bless his warm little heart—won’t let his men park this close to a leper.”
“All right.” Linden mustered her training, gripped it in both hands. “Tell me what happened.”
He made a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t really know. I only know what he told Mrs. Roman—what he told me. It doesn’t make any sense.” He sighed. “Well, this is what he says. Sometime aftermidnight, he heard people at his door. He’d spent most of the evening trying to bathe her, but after that he fell asleep. He didn’t wake up until these people began acting like they wanted to tear the door down.
“He didn’t have to ask them what they wanted. I guess he’s been expecting something like this ever since Joan showed up. He went and got his shotgun—did you know he had a shotgun? Had Mrs. Roman buy it for him last week. For self-defense—as if being a leper wasn’t more defense than he ever had any use for.” Seeing Linden’s impatience, he went back to his story. “Anyway, he got his gun, and turned on all the lights. Then he opened the door.
“They came in—maybe half a dozen of them. He says they wore sackcloth and ashes.” Dr. Berenford grimaced. “If he recognized any of them, he won’t admit it. He waved the shotgun at them and told them they couldn’t have her.
“But they acted as if they wanted to be shot. And when it came right down to it, he couldn’t. Not even to save his ex-wife.” He shook his head. “He tried to fight them off by main strength, but one against six, he didn’t have much chance.
“Sometime early this morning, he came to long enough to call Mrs. Roman. He was incoherent—kept telling her to start a search, only he couldn’t explain why—but at least he had sense enough to know he needed help. Then he passed out again. When she got here, she found him unconscious on the floor. There was blood everywhere. Whoever they were, they must have bled an entire cow.” He gulped coffee as if it were an antidote for the reek in the air. “Well, she got him on his feet, and he took her to check on Joan. She was gone. Restraints had been cut.”
“They didn’t kill her?” interjected Linden.
He glanced at her. “He says no. How he knows—your guess is as good as mine.” After a moment, he resumed, “Anyway, Mrs. Roman called me. When I got here, she left to see what she could do about finding Joan. I’ve examined him, and he seems to be all right. Suffering from exhaustion as much as anything else.”
Linden shrugged aside her doubts about Covenant’s condition. “I’ll watch him.”
He nodded. “That was why I called for you.”
She drank some of her coffee to steady herself, then inquired carefully, “Do you know who they were?”
“I asked him that,” Dr. Berenford replied with a frown. “He said, ‘How the hell should I know?’ ”
“Well, then, what do they want with her?”
He thought for a moment, then said, “You know, the worst part about the whole thing is—I think he knows.”
Frustration made her querulous. “So why won’t he tell us?”
“Hard to say,” said the doctor slowly. “I think he thinks if we knew what was going on we’d try to stop him.”
Linden did not respond. She was no longer prepared to try to prevent Thomas
He sipped his own coffee. All the humor was gone out of him, and his hands shook. “I guess he was right all along.” He did not meet her stare. “She’s gone.”
“Gone?” For an instant, her control slipped.
Gone?
She could hardly breathe past the thudding of her heart. “Is anybody looking for her?”
“The police,” he replied. “Mrs. Roman—did I tell you about her? She’s his lawyer. She went back to town after I got here—a couple hours ago. To light a fire under the Sheriff. Right now, every able-bodied cop in the county is probably out looking. The only reason you don’t see cars is because our Sheriff—bless his warm little heart—won’t let his men park this close to a leper.”
“All right.” Linden mustered her training, gripped it in both hands. “Tell me what happened.”
He made a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t really know. I only know what he told Mrs. Roman—what he told me. It doesn’t make any sense.” He sighed. “Well, this is what he says. Sometime aftermidnight, he heard people at his door. He’d spent most of the evening trying to bathe her, but after that he fell asleep. He didn’t wake up until these people began acting like they wanted to tear the door down.
“He didn’t have to ask them what they wanted. I guess he’s been expecting something like this ever since Joan showed up. He went and got his shotgun—did you know he had a shotgun? Had Mrs. Roman buy it for him last week. For self-defense—as if being a leper wasn’t more defense than he ever had any use for.” Seeing Linden’s impatience, he went back to his story. “Anyway, he got his gun, and turned on all the lights. Then he opened the door.
“They came in—maybe half a dozen of them. He says they wore sackcloth and ashes.” Dr. Berenford grimaced. “If he recognized any of them, he won’t admit it. He waved the shotgun at them and told them they couldn’t have her.
“But they acted as if they wanted to be shot. And when it came right down to it, he couldn’t. Not even to save his ex-wife.” He shook his head. “He tried to fight them off by main strength, but one against six, he didn’t have much chance.
“Sometime early this morning, he came to long enough to call Mrs. Roman. He was incoherent—kept telling her to start a search, only he couldn’t explain why—but at least he had sense enough to know he needed help. Then he passed out again. When she got here, she found him unconscious on the floor. There was blood everywhere. Whoever they were, they must have bled an entire cow.” He gulped coffee as if it were an antidote for the reek in the air. “Well, she got him on his feet, and he took her to check on Joan. She was gone. Restraints had been cut.”
“They didn’t kill her?” interjected Linden.
He glanced at her. “He says no. How he knows—your guess is as good as mine.” After a moment, he resumed, “Anyway, Mrs. Roman called me. When I got here, she left to see what she could do about finding Joan. I’ve examined him, and he seems to be all right. Suffering from exhaustion as much as anything else.”
Linden shrugged aside her doubts about Covenant’s condition. “I’ll watch him.”
He nodded. “That was why I called for you.”
She drank some of her coffee to steady herself, then inquired carefully, “Do you know who they were?”
“I asked him that,” Dr. Berenford replied with a frown. “He said, ‘How the hell should I know?’ ”
“Well, then, what do they want with her?”
He thought for a moment, then said, “You know, the worst part about the whole thing is—I think he knows.”
Frustration made her querulous. “So why won’t he tell us?”
“Hard to say,” said the doctor slowly. “I think he thinks if we knew what was going on we’d try to stop him.”
Linden did not respond. She was no longer prepared to try to prevent Thomas
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