Stranded

would be picking her up. But Gwen hadn’t told anyone. Only Julia Racine knew and Gwen had made her promise not to tell.
    Her clothes, jewelry, cell phone, and shoes were placed neatly on the side table beside her bed. Her cell phone—which she had set to Vibrate—now rattled against the table surface. No one had told her she could not use her phone. She reached for it and feltan ache and tenderness where the needle had gone in three times, taking three tissue samples.
    “This is Gwen.”
    “Dr. Patterson, it’s Agent Alonzo. Do you have a minute to talk?”
    “Of course,” she said as her eyes darted toward the door.
    “I’m going over some information and I’m wondering if you can tell me about something Otis Dodd said.”
    “Okay.”
    “Do you remember if he told you how he knew about the body in the Iowa barn? The biker with the tattoo?”
    “I’m sure he said Jack told him.”
    “Do you remember if he said
when
Jack told him this?”
    Gwen stopped to think. Otis had thrown the information out at her, right before he left. He’d done it in anger when he thought she didn’t believe him. Almost out of spite; perhaps he had not intended to tell her at all.
    “I don’t think he said when exactly. He and Jack spent an evening at a bar, drinking.” Alonzo was quiet and before he responded she asked, “Do you finally know the man’s identity?”
    “Yes, I believe so.”
    She heard computer keys tapping.
    “He’s Michael James Earling of St. Paul, Minnesota. Did Otis ever say if he talked to Jack after that evening of drinking?”
    “No, he always referred to it as one evening, sort of a chance encounter with a stranger.” She tried to remember how Otis had worded it. “There was something he said about him and Jack being messed up. That they weren’t normal. He seemed pleased that they had that in common.”
    Again, she waited and Agent Alonzo was silent.
    “Why do you ask? What’s going on?”
    “Otis has been in prison for almost a year. Michael James Earling disappeared only three weeks ago. The medical examiner says that’s a fair estimation of how long the body has been in the barn.”
    The realization came over Gwen in a cold sweat.
    “Otis couldn’t possibly know about a tattooed biker in the barn,” Alonzo said. “Not unless he was still in touch with Jack.”

CHAPTER 57

    “Just slow and gentle like,” the man told her.
    Maggie pulled and eased her body in front of Tully before she looked up at him. He was pointing what looked like a Glock, aiming it at her head. He still had the
Booty Hunter
cap on. But Jack wasn’t Buzz.
    It took her a moment to recognize him.
    “You had me in Iowa. Why bring me all the way down here?” she asked Howard Elliott.
    She felt Tully stirring. Heard him groan.
    “What would be the fun in that?”
    “He’s still alive,” Otis said.
    Maggie’s stomach clenched. She thought he meant Tully, but she could see Otis standing over Trooper Wiley’s and Warden Demarcus’s bodies. He had Wiley’s service revolver in his hand and it looked like a toy swallowed up by Otis’s huge fingers.
    “The executor from the farm is Jack?” Tully mumbled. “Son of a bitch.”
    “Looks like this one’s still alive, too.”
    “So do I call you Howard?” Maggie asked, surprised at howcalm and steady she was able to make her voice sound when the panic continued to crawl like ice through her veins.
    “It’s John Howard,” Otis said, coming up beside his friend. “But he likes to be called Jack.” Otis’s grin hadn’t disappeared. His tongue poked out and licked his lips as he shot a glance over his shoulder. “He’s still alive.”
    It was Demarcus Otis seemed concerned about. The warden was squirming on the ground. Maggie could see his arms wrapped around himself.
    “It’s a stomach wound,” Jack told him without taking his eyes off Maggie. “He’ll die. It’ll just take a while. I thought you might want him to suffer a bit. But we have a problem here. I might have just winged this one.”
    Tully shifted and Jack raised his Glock.
    “I’m not going anywhere without him,” Maggie said, lifting her left hand and showing him the handcuffs.
    “Now, why’d you want to go and do a thing like that?”
    Otis laughed but it was a nervous, forced sound followed by his tongue darting out again and wetting his lips.
    “You realize I can shoot that off.”
    “Jack hates guns,” Otis said. “Ain’t that right?”
    Otis stood a head taller