All Night Long

things? There’s no way Ryland’s career can be salvaged.”
    “Don’t you think I’m aware of that? Thanks to you, I’ve lost one son. But I’ve got another and I’ve go plan.”
    “Freeze, Webb.”
    Luke’s command had the strobe-like effect of lightning on the lake at midnight. For an instant everything and everyone, including Victor Webb, went utterly still.

    Luke emerged from the shadows at the side of the house, moving with the lethal grace of a predato ho has had plenty of experience bringing down prey.
    He had a gun in his hand.
    Sam McPherson followed close behind him, a pistol in one fist.
    Webb snapped out of his startled trance. He turned his head and saw the two men approaching.
    “You’re both fools,” he said. “Shoot me and you’ll hit Irene.”
    He was right, Irene realized. Victor stood directly in front of her on the narrow dock.
    Once the bullets started flying, it would be a miracle if she wasn’t hit.
    “Give it up, Webb,” Luke said, moving slowly toward the dock. “This thing is over.
    We all know that.”
    “It’s over when I say it’s over, Danner.”
    Victor suddenly lunged toward Irene, reaching out to seize her by the arm. She realized that he intended to use her as a shield and a hostage.
    She dropped her shoulder bag onto the dock and threw herself backward off the dock. The last thin he saw before she hit the water was Victor Webb bringing his gun to bear on Luke.
    She landed with a heavy splash and sank quickly. The cold waters closed over her, muffling the roa f the shots.
    Her first instinct was to swim away from the vicinity of the dock. She went as far as she could underwater, hugging the shoreline. The weight of her coat and boots tugged at her, threatening to pul er deeper.
    When she could hold her breath no longer, she surfaced, gasping for air, and turned to look back. Luke stood at the end of the dock, searching the water for her. Behind him Sam McPherson crouched beside Victor Webb, who lay crumpled on the boards.
    Luke spotted her and raised a hand.

    “You okay?” he called.
    “Yes.” She got to her feet and staggered out of the shallow water. The crisp air struck like a knife, plastering her cold, wet garments around her.
    Luke came toward her, peeling off his windbreaker. When he got close, he yanked off her soakin rench coat and wrapped the light jacket around her.
    “You gave me one hell of a scare,” he muttered, dragging her against his warm, hard frame. “When you didn’t answer your phone a few minutes ago, I went a little crazy.”
    “Oh, God, Luke, I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life.” She clung to him. “Is Webb dead?”
    “Not yet.” His arm around her, he guided her back to where Sam was using his own shirt as a makeshift bandage to staunch the blood flowing from Webb’s midsection.
    “Just called the aid car,” Sam said tonelessly.
    “Are you both all right?” Irene asked, surveying Luke and Sam in turn.
    Before either man could answer, Victor Webb groaned and opened his eyes. He squinted up at Sam, evidently trying to bring him into focus.
    “Son,” he said in a grating whisper.
    “Ryland isn’t here,” Sam responded without a flicker of emotion.
    “You’re my son. You know that. Listen to me. What happened here will come down to our wor gainst theirs.” Victor glanced at Luke and Irene and grimaced with pain and hatred.
    “They’r utsiders, and you’re the law here in Dunsley. And I’m Victor Webb. The locals will believe whateve e tell them.”
    “Sorry, but that’s not how it’s going to be,” Sam said. He got slowly to his feet.
    “You’re family, damn you.” Victor broke off, coughing blood. “When the chips are down, family takes care of its own.”
    “I am taking care of my own,” Sam said quietly. “I’m arresting the man who murdered my niece.”

    “Pamela was a cheap little tramp. Listen to me, Sam, I’ve got a plan. You’re going to take Ryland’ lace. You’ll have to start small, naturally. A state office to begin with, but we can build you fast.
    No one outside Dunsley knows that you’re a Webb. You’ll be the heroic small-town chief of polic ho helped take down a U.S. senator. The voters will love you. But first you’ve got to help me clea p this mess.”
    “What I’ve got to do is my job. If Bob Thornhill had done his all those years ago, Pamela would stil e alive.” Sam took a card out of his back pocket. “You have the right to remain