The Maze

just might go on patrol tonight to make certain we're separated."

    She laughed. "Mother is a hoot, isn't she? You never know what will come out of her mouth. But it seems she's gone even more around the bend just lately. Lots of it might be an act, who knows? She's not going to change. But it still scares me because some of what she says just might be true. Did my father really try to kill her? Run her down in his BMW?"

    "God knows, I don't. If he did do it on purpose, at least he knows she's told us about it. Your father isn't stupid. If he did do it deliberately, it won't happen again."

    "I don't want my mother to die, Dillon."

    He brought her close. "She won't. Everything will be all right. I'll even have a chat with your father, just to make sure he understands completely."

    Much later, when Lacey was on the edge of sleep, she thought, Who were you, Belinda?

29

    IT WAS DAWN, THE BEDroom a soft, vague gray, and chilly. She woke up slowly. Someone was shaking her arm, someone speaking to her. "Sherlock, we've got a problem. Come on, wake up."

    He was lightly caressing her upper arms, then lightly tapped her face. She blinked up at him. "Dillon? I'm so glad it's you. I thought it was someone else, another nightmare. What's wrong? Did Mother try to run you off the property?''

    He sat down beside her and she reached for him. He took her hands in his and held them tightly. "No, that I could have handled. Listen to me, Sherlock. It's Martin Jones. Brace yourself-he's escaped."

    She stared up at him, slowly shaking her head on the pillow. "No, that's just impossible. A prisoner doesn't escape nowadays, except in the movies. There's no way Marlin could have gotten away. There were cops all over him. He even went to the bathroom with a cop on either side of him. Besides, he was wearing more shackles than an Alabama chain gang. This has to be an early-morning joke, right, Dillon?''

    "I'm sorry, Sherlock, he's gone. The court had ordered him taken to the Massachusetts State Institute for more psychological testing. The doctors there blew fits when they saw the guards and all the restraints-he had full leg shackles. They complained that they'd never get anything meaningful out of him, that they'd never gain any true and accurate testing results unless Marlin could trust them, the doctors. The cops refused, naturally. The doctors then called the judge who'd dictated more testing. The judge then ordered the cops to remove the shackles, even the handcuffs. The cops were even ordered to wait outside the room. The long and the short of it-Marlin hit two doctors over the head, smashed an orderly's jaw, knocked him unconscious, and got out through a bathroom window that was right off the office. They haven't recaptured him yet. They didn't know he'd escaped until the orderly regained consciousness and staggered out to tell them."

    She was fully awake now, sitting up, rubbing her arms with her hands. "How did you find out?"

    "Jimmy Maitland called me about thirty minutes ago. He said the cops called him, but it had been on TV even before they bothered to telephone. He got hold of the FBI in Boston and put them in on it big-time. He made it sound like everything was in complete disarray."

    "Do you think just maybe that judge who ordered Marlin Jones released will now be under the bench instead of sitting on it?"

    "There'll be big-time fallout. Hopefully that nitwit judge will either swear he's seen the light or he'll go down, which is what he deserves. Get on your robe and let's get downstairs. Isabelle's made us some coffee and warmed up some rolls."

    Ten minutes later they were downstairs in Judge Sherlock's lair watching TV. They'd just turned on the big set when a news bulletin flashed on. A big black-and-white photo of Marlin Jones filled the screen. A newswoman's voice said, "... The manhunt has extended in all directions now. The FBI, state and local police are all trying to find the alleged killer of more than eight women." The picture then flashed to the newsroom. A beautiful blond woman, not more than twenty-eight, was beaming at the camera, saying in her happy, perfect voice, "It's just been learned that the FBI agent, Lacey Sher-lock, who was instrumental in catching Marlin Jones in Boston, is the sister of one of the women he allegedly murdered in San Francisco seven years ago. What this means isn't exactly clear, but John Bullock, Marlin Jones's lawyer, has said his client was entrapped all along by the