When he recognized me, Boyd went ballistic, pushing back, bounding forward, jumping up, and pushing off the fence again. He repeated the cycle several times, like a hamster on a wheel, then stood again on hind feet, threw back his head, and barked steadily.

Saying doggy things, I ruffled his ears and clipped on the leash. He nearly dragged me chowside in his lunge toward the gate.

"We're only going to the end of the property," I warned, leveling a finger at his nose.

He cocked his head, twirled the brows, and yipped once. When I lifted the latch, he bounded out and raced in circles, nearly toppling me.

"I envy your energy, Boyd."

He lapped my face as I disentangled the leash from between his legs, then we started up the road. Light from the porch barely reached the edge of the lawn, and within ten yards I clicked on my flash. Boyd stopped and growled.

"It's a flashlight, boy."

I reached down and patted his shoulder. He rotated his head and licked my hand, then doubled back, did a little dance, and pressed his body against my legs.

I was about to move on when I felt him tense. His head dropped, his breathing changed, and a low rumble rose from his throat. He did not respond to my touch.

"What is it, boy?"

More rumbling.

"Not another dead squirrel."

I reached out to stroke him and felt hackles. Not good. I tugged the leash.

"Come on, boy, we're turning back."

He would not move.

"Boyd."

The growl grew deeper, more savage.

I aimed my light where Boyd was staring. The beam crawled over tree trunks and was sucked into dead zones of blackness between.

I yanked the leash harder. Boyd whipped left and barked. I swept my light in that direction.

"This isn't funny, dog."

Then my eyes made out a form. Or had it been a trick of shadow? In the moment I glanced down at Boyd, what I thought I'd seen vanished. Or had it been there at all?

"Who's there?" Fear crimped my voice.

Nothing but crickets and frogs. A fallen tree lodged against one still standing groaned and creaked in the air.

Suddenly I heard movement behind me. Footfalls. The rustling of leaves.

Boyd turned and snapped, lunging as far as the leash would allow.

"Who's there?" I repeated.

A silhouette emerged from the trees, denser than the surrounding night. Boyd snarled and tore at the leash. The dark shape moved toward us.

"Who is it?"

No answer.

I thrust the flashlight and leash into one hand and reached for my cell phone with the other. Before I could autodial, it slipped from my shaking fingers.

"Stay back!" It was almost a shriek.

I raised the light to shoulder level. As I was readjusting the leash for better control, about to reach for the phone, my grip loosened. Boyd broke free and charged, teeth gleaming, a fierce growl rumbling from his throat.

In an instant the silhouette altered shape. An arm uncurled.

Boyd leaped.

A flash. A deafening crack.

The dog bounced off the silhouette, dropped to the ground, whimpered, and lay still.

"Boyd!"

Tears ran down my cheeks. I wanted to tell him I'd take care of him. Tell him he'd be all right, but my body was paralyzed with fear, and no words came from my mouth.

The form moved swiftly toward me now. I turned to run. Hands grabbed me. I twisted, wrenched free. The shadow coalesced into a man.

He hit me with his full weight, his shoulder beneath my armpit. The shock of the impact sent me falling sideways.

The last thing I remembered was breath on my face, sprawling. Then the crack of my skull against igneous rock.

The dream was frightening. An airless place. I couldn't move. I couldn't see. Then something stroked my cheek.

I opened my eyes to a reality more hellish than any nightmare.

My mouth was stuffed and wrapped with tape. I was blindfolded.

My heart shrank in my chest.

I can't breathe!

I tried raising a hand to my face. My wrists were tied over my chest.

The rag filled my mouth with an acrid taste. A tremor began below my tongue.

I'm going to vomit! I'm going to choke!

I felt panic, began to shake.

Move!

I tried shifting, and a cocoon of fabric moved with me. I smelled dust and mildew and spoiled vegetation.

I kicked out, thrust with my head.

The movement shot arrows through my brain. I lay still, waiting for the pain to subside.

Breathe through your nose. In. Out. In. Out.

The throbbing lessened slightly.

Think!

I was imprisoned in some sort of bag. My hands and feet were bound. But where was I? How had I gotten here?

Disjointed memories. The morgue. The empty county road. Ruby's troubled face. Primrose Hobbs.

Boyd!

Oh, dear God. Not Boyd! Had I killed the dog, too?

In. Out.

I rolled my head and felt a lump the size of a plum. Another wave of nausea.

In. Out.

More synapses.

The attack. The faceless form.

Simon Midkiff? Frank Battle? Could my captor be the moron magistrate?

I twisted my wrists, trying to loosen the tape. More nausea.

Clamping my teeth, I rolled onto my side. If I did vomit, I didn't want to aspirate the contents.

The movement made my stomach heave. I filled my lungs and the contractions receded.

I lay rigid, listening. I had no idea how long I'd been unconscious, or how I'd arrived at my present location. Was I still in the woods at High Ridge House? Had I been taken elsewhere? Was my attacker just feet away?

My heart rate slowed by a nanosecond, and cogent thought began to creep back.

It was then the thing crawled across my cheek. I heard dry insect sounds, felt movement in my hair, then the tickle of antennae on my skin.

A scream formed in my throat. I rolled back and forth, batting at my face, my hair. Blinding pain seared my brain, and my innards jammed up against the back of my throat.

Quiet! One functioning brain cell commanded. One functioning brain cell commanded.

Cockroaches! The others shrieked. The others shrieked.

I tugged at my jacket, tried to pull it up over my head. It wouldn't go.

Lie still!

My heart hammered the order against my ribs.

Be still. Be still. Be still.

Slowly, I calmed, and reason returned.

Get out.

Run.

But not into another trap.

Think.

Listen.

Bare branches hissing in the wind. A chirp. Leaves skittering across the ground.

Forest sounds.

I peeled back a layer of sound.

Water swirling around rocks.

River sounds.

Another layer.

Far away and barely there, a loonlike wail followed by a strange giggle.

Gooseflesh spread across my arms and up my throat.

I knew where I was.

I STRAINED, BARELY BREATHING. STRAINED, BARELY BREATHING. H HAD I I REALLY HEARD WHAT REALLY HEARD WHAT I thought I had? Minutes crept by. Doubt crept in. Then it sounded again, faint and surreal. I thought I had? Minutes crept by. Doubt crept in. Then it sounded again, faint and surreal.

An undulating moan, a high-pitched laugh.