I ran after Bax back into the hallway, hissing at him to stay with me, but he was driven by instinct up the stairs two at a time. “Wait for me!” I roared, but he was already at the top of the stairs, then burst into the first doorway on the right. It was a child’s bedroom decked out in pink and gold, from what I could see over his shoulder as I raced up behind him, but it was empty of any people.
Bax ran across the landing to another door, another child’s room, green and white, and clear as well. I joined him in the search, because I knew he would not leave until he had satisfied himself that there was no one who needed help. The other doors coming off the upstairs hallway led to bathrooms, a third child’s room, a study, a library, and beyond those, the master bedroom.
All were clear.
We paused back on the landing, and he was still panting as though he’d run a marathon. “If someone had been up here—” I started growling, but he interrupted me.
“There’s no one else here, and no other victims. That’s one blessing. The only one.”
“We need to get out of here. Right now.”
But as though he hadn’t heard me, he made his way slowly back downstairs, into the kitchen, and looked again at the dead man.
“Bax,” I said, and came up to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off.
“I was wrong. I wassowrong.”
“We were both wrong.”
“No.Iwas wrong…” He held up his hands to rub his face and realized, finally, that he was still holding his gun. He stepped over to the kitchen table nearby and set it down carefully, drew back one of the chairs, and sat down heavily. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “You’re going to get up and get moving. We have to go.”
“He set us up. Villiers.Heset us up.”
It was far worse than that, but we didn’t have time for Bax to have any further psychological breakthroughs, or whatever the hell he was doing there in his head. I stepped over to him quickly and grabbed his shoulder.
“Get up. Now.” He didn’t move, so I shook him until he pulled away and glared up at me. “We don’t have time for your feelings right now, Flynn. Get the hell up.”
He pushed back the chair, clumsily, and tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t seem to support him.
A slight click and an almost unnoticeable change of air pressure in the room made me look up, alert, but it was too late. A man was entering the kitchen from the small outside patio, coming through the back door, and he had his weapon trained on me.
“Guns down,” the man said.
But Bax had found his strength again, and sprang out of his chair to stand in front of me. “You son of a bitch,” he spat. “Howcouldyou?”
I’d seen this man before, or at least a photograph of him. “Dr. Villiers, I presume?” I asked, and the man gave a twisted smile.
“In the flesh.” He gave an ironic little nod.
“It wasyou,” Bax growled. For a moment I thought Villiers was going to deny it all. I could see him making calculations in his mind, the same way I did—what was the best play here?
But then he gave a shrug. “It was,” he said simply.
“Why did you do it?” Bax asked. I recognized the agony in his voice. It was the same tone I’d heard from many men when I needed information from them. When I was extracting it. To hear that pain coming out of Bax’s mouth, though, was unbearable.
“It was necessary.” Villiers’ attention, along with his gun, stayed on me. “Put down the gun, Messina.” He was less patient this time.
“I don’t think so.”
His eyes drifted to Baxter. “You’d better get out of the way, Flynn. You don’t want to die for this snake.”
“No,” Bax said stubbornly, and spread his arms wide. “If you want to kill him, you’ll have to kill me first.”
I felt a rush of affection for the silly kid, and was about to tell him I’d handle things, tell him to get the hell out of the way and let the FBI fool take his chances, when Villiers’ aim changed, moved a few inches over, until Bax was in his sights.
“Wait,” I snapped, and under Bax’s outstretched arm, I moved to put my gun on the table next to his.
