"I have no idea what the deputies thought," Bettina broke in. "But I'm sure they'll be back, and there will be all kinds of other people with them. And I'm sure people will talk. But the fact of the matter is, none of us have any idea where Dan West and Shep Dunnigan and Mitch and Angie Garvey went." She paused for a moment, then went on. "And frankly, we don't really care, either, as long as they don't come back. And they won't-that, we're pretty sure of."

"How can you be so sure?" Kate countered. "If you don't know where they went, how can you be sure they won't be back?"

Before Bettina could answer Kate's question, Nick Dunnigan said, "This house. It didn't like them. It's a great house, and it likes us, but it didn't like them. It didn't like them at all. And there were reasons why."

Kate sat back in the chair, preparing herself for what she was certain was going to be a long story. "I'm listening," she said.

Epilogue.

This was not how it was supposed to be!

Tiffany Garvey was not supposed to be standing in a hot kitchen, sweat dripping down her back as she tried to make the baby eat at least one spoonful of the disgusting pureed peas the brat's miserable mother insisted she feed it.

And Tiffany Garvey was certainly not supposed to be taking orders from anyone like Rowena Matheson, who'd only taken her and Zach in because instead of paying for staff, she'd found out the county would pay her to take in foster children.

Foster children!

Tiffany silently cursed her parents as Brian Matheson the Third spat more peas on the front of her blouse.

Brian Matheson the Third! What a pile of c.r.a.p-Brian Matheson the t.u.r.d t.u.r.d was more like it. was more like it.

And it was all her parents' fault. If they hadn't taken off while she was still in the hospital after Sarah Crane and Nick Dunnigan tried to kill her, she'd be home where she belonged.

And Sarah and Nick would be in Juvenile Hall, or wherever they sent people like them. But no-they'd gotten off scot-free, even though they'd killed Conner West, and probably Conner's dad and Nick's father, too.

Maybe even her own parents!

Well, it wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, and when she turned eighteen- The baby's mouth opened then and a stream of vomit shot out, hitting Tiffany square in the chest. Her own gorge rising as the nauseating smell filled her nostrils, Tiffany ran to the sink, barely reaching it in time to throw up there rather than on the floor.

The sink, at least, was a lot easier to clean than the floor, which she'd already mopped once today.

She was just rinsing the vomit off her s.h.i.+rt when Zach walked into the kitchen through the back door.

"Oh, jeez," he groaned as he smelled not only the baby's puke but his sister's as well. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Tiffany shot back. "If-"

"Zachary?" a cold voice cut in.

They both turned to see Rowena Matheson framed in the door to the dining room, looking cool and fresh in a beige silk blouse and pants, despite the heat of the August day. Her feet were strapped into sandals Tiffany was sure had cost at least six hundred dollars, and every hair on her head was perfectly in place.

Why wouldn't it be, Tiffany thought, when she had to wash it for her every afternoon?

"Have you fed the dogs their supper and cleaned the kennels yet?"

Tiffany shot Zach a warning look as his face reddened and the vein in his forehead began to throb exactly the way their father's used to just before his temper exploded.

"No, ma'am," he said, struggling to keep his voice from betraying his fury.

But Rowena read his face perfectly, and her eyes narrowed. "You know we only wanted one foster child."

"Yes, ma'am," Zach said.

Tiffany watched him force himself to keep his eyes down. Mrs. Matheson had told them on the first day that they were never, under any circ.u.mstances, to make eye contact with her. You are here to make my life easier. You are not my friends or my family, and you will not expect to be treated as such. You will be respectful at all times You are here to make my life easier. You are not my friends or my family, and you will not expect to be treated as such. You will be respectful at all times.

"Keeping you two together was a gift," Mrs. Matheson went on now. "The least you can do is show your grat.i.tude by keeping the kennels clean. Am I perfectly clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Zach muttered.

"Then let's not stand around the kitchen keeping your sister from her ch.o.r.es. She'll keep a dinner plate warm for you."

Zach backed wordlessly out the back door, and all ten of Brian Matheson, Jr.'s German shorthair hunting dogs began to bark. Tiffany glanced out the window as Zach picked up the shovel, a bucket, and the hose.

Rowena Matheson smiled at her baby and gave him a little wave. "Isn't Trip the most perfect baby you've ever seen?" she said. "You're very fortunate to be able to take care of him-I don't know how many nannies applied for the job."

Who you couldn't have treated like slaves, Tiffany thought, keeping her expression carefully bland so Rowena couldn't see what was in her mind.

Then Rowena came to the real point of her visit to the kitchen. "We're ready for dinner, Tiffany," she said. "You may serve."

Dinner!

Was it even ready?

Tiffany glanced around the kitchen in a panic. "Right away," she said as Rowena Matheson turned and vanished into the dining room.

Tiffany pulled the salad she'd put together an hour ago out of the refrigerator and prayed that would hold them until she could finish garnis.h.i.+ng the soup-a cold cuc.u.mber one that had taken her all morning to prepare-with the parsley the Mathesons always demanded.

"It just doesn't look right without it," Rowena had explained the one time Tiffany failed to add the parsley. "And it's not as if it's any trouble for you." It had been a statement, not a question, and Tiffany had already known better than to argue with either of the Mathesons about anything, even if she had the time, which she didn't.

In fact, she had no time for anything anymore. No time for friends-which she didn't have anymore anyway-and no time for homework and no time to be a girl.

No time, even, to call Kate Williams and complain about the home in which she and Zach had been placed.

But when she turned eighteen ...

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

House of Reckoning is John Saul's thirty-sixth novel. His first novel, is John Saul's thirty-sixth novel. His first novel, Suffer the Children Suffer the Children, published in 1977, was an immediate million-copy bestseller. His other bestselling suspense novels include Faces of Fear, In the Dark of the Night, Perfect Nightmare, Black Creek Crossing, Midnight Voices, The Manhattan Hunt Club, Nightshade, The Right Hand of Evil, The Presence, Black Lightning, The Homing Faces of Fear, In the Dark of the Night, Perfect Nightmare, Black Creek Crossing, Midnight Voices, The Manhattan Hunt Club, Nightshade, The Right Hand of Evil, The Presence, Black Lightning, The Homing, and Guardian Guardian. He is also the author of the New York Times New York Times bestselling serial thriller bestselling serial thriller The Blackstone Chronicles The Blackstone Chronicles, initially published in six installments but now available in one complete volume. Saul divides his time between Seattle, Was.h.i.+ngton, and Hawaii.

By John Saul

Suffer the Children Punish the Sinners Cry for the Strangers Comes the Blind Fury When the Wind Blows The G.o.d Project Nathaniel Brainchild h.e.l.lfire The Unwanted The Unloved Creature Second Child Sleepwalk Darkness Shadows Guardian The Homing Black Lightning