Ed Daltry knew he couldn't get to Paulette right away so he focused on taking out Roth first and he would be creative. He knew he was staying with his cousin at the Sander's place and that there was no way he could get at him from the front. The small skiff was perfect and under cover of darkness he drifted down the river to the back of the property.

He steered to the bank and hopped out, tying the skiff to the small dock. This would be his escape as well; later he could drift all the way down in the dark to BK property and no one would know the difference.

A light showed through two downstairs windows and he crept up the expanse of lawn to the rear of the house, peering carefully through the first one. It was the kitchen and he could see Barbara making coffee at the counter. No sign of Roth so he slipped around to the other window and smiled as he saw his target lounging on a sofa looking at a magazine.

"Want anything to snack on with your coffee?" Barbara came into the room and set two coffees on the table in front of the sofa.

"What goes good with Columbian Dark Roast?" He sat up a bit and picked up the mug.

"Whatever I happen to have in the cupboard."

"Sounds delicious. Who was on the phone earlier?"

"Christine. I think she loses sleep over my hair. Want to take these outside?"

". . . Sure."

Daltry raised his gun and aimed carefully through the window.

"I have got cookies that will satisfy your lordship." She grinned and walked around, blocking Daltry's view. He moved back out of sight and waited a moment then looked again . . . Roth wasn't there!

He hurried to the other window and nobody was in the kitchen. Back to the other window . . . nothing! Daltry flattened against the house, eyes darting around and straining to see in the darkness then he heard a door shut and he followed carefully along the house wall to the corner. They had brought their coffees out to the patio.

Better yet. He knew now he would have to do them both or he might not get another chance as good. Stepping away from the wall, Daltry raised his gun and aimed at Roth. The wet slap of water hit him across the neck and he instinctively cried out as it hit again and again. The lawn sprinkler had come on and was swinging dual streams of water around the lawn and all over him.

"Get inside!" Nick yelled at Barbara, pushing her toward the door and he ran around to the far side of the house and out to the front. There was no sign of a car so he circled back, finding a steel leaf rake leaning against the wall and taking it along.

Daltry was cursing and skipping toward the patio out of the water. He tried the door and it was locked and he cursed rushing back toward the windows when the tynes of the rake caught him high on the chest and his chin. He screamed aloud and grabbed for his face, hitting his hand on the rake and dropping his gun.

Nick dropped the rake and grabbed Daltry, landing a punishing blow to his face and hanging on to his shirt so he couldn't fall while he delivered several more, hurting his own hand in the process. Daltry raised his hands in a feeble defence but the punches kept coming and he lost consciousness.

Nick dragged him out into the water spray and let him drop, standing for a minute then finishing with a vicious kick to ribs before going into the house.

********

Captain Cummins felt sick. Not only had Daltry failed again but he was now hospitalized and under guard and the vision of a disintegrating career taunted him.

"That was a pretty over the top beating you laid on him, Roth."

They sat in the Captains office while a secretary recorded Nick's statement on her lined yellow notepad.

"He was trying to kill us."

"Us? How do you know he was after both of you?"

"We both saw him, Captain, what would you do?"

"Maybe he was just there to scare you . . ." Cummins face flushed at the incredulous stare from Roth. "That's all, Alice. Thank you."

The secretary folded her notes and left the room.

"Listen here, Roth. I could arrest you on assault charges for the beating you gave that man."

"On the other hand, with his confession, you caught the coward that beat up poor Miss Duayne. Quick work too. I'll bet Braxton and the rest of the board will be thrilled. Too bad you didn't wrap up Richard Sander's death with the same efficiency."

"Look, I told you--"

"I got the ME's report, Captain. Richard died of an embolism caused by air bubbles in his blood stream. It was recorded as a cryptogenic stroke because they didn't want the real cause known. Something was injected or he ingested something that caused it; before that he was healthy as a horse. My guess, from the timing it was during his visit to your buddy, Doctor Ramsey."

"That's preposterous! Carl Ramsey is a pillar of the community . . . he's a member of--"

Roth stood, his smile wry. "Exactly, Captain. Exactly." He picked up his hat and left unchallenged.

********

"My superior has said Miss Duayne is not to be receiving any visitors." Doctor Winston, shrugged and looked very self conscious.

"Is she alright? Has something happened?"

"No, she's actually improving . . ."

"So why the restriction, or is it just for me?" Nick looked at the doctor.

"Look, Mr. Roth, it's not me, frankly I'm really happy you caught the sadist that hurt her; I can't imagine a man doing something like that . . . and by the way, he's in the room next to her . . ." He looked down at his clipboard and pulled gently on his nose.

"Thanks, Doc. I'll pay my respects to him instead then." Both men exchanged a small grin and parted.

Nick walked to the bedside and looked down at the man bandaged like the invisible man. The eyes were closed behind the small holes in the gauze and Nick glanced down at his own scabbed knuckles. He leaned down and whispered,

"How did it feel, Ed, worth it?"

The eyes popped open and there was a muffled reply.

"Sorry, Ed, didn't get that." Nick pressed his fist down on the bandage over Ed's nose until he saw blood soak into the gauze. "Oops! Hope someone comes by soon."

Daltry's hand scrabbled for the buzzer but Nick knocked it away, leaving him gasping for breath.

Quickly he slipped into Paulette's room, surprised to see her in a sitting position. The bandages were all still in place but she was awake. She watched Nick approach the bed and remained silent.

"Paulette, I can't even begin to apologize for what you went through. I know it was because you spoke to me and I am so truly sorry." She didn't respond, just stared through her one good eye. "If it's any consolation the bastard that did this is in the room next door in worse shape."

He stood for a minute watching her then gave a small sigh and turned to go.

"Nick." The voice was soft and weak and he stopped, facing her. "I don't blame you. I know who brought this on . . . Braxton Kerr."

"I'm working on getting him too, Paulette . . . all of them, all your fellow board members." Her hand came up and he took it carefully. "You just get better fast so you don't miss my encore." He tipped forward and kissed the bandage on her head. "Get better."

Outside the room an angry looking Brian Teesdale stood blocking Nick's path.

"How dare you come into this hospital and assault a helpless patient."

"Don't know what you're talking about. I came to visit Miss Duayne."

"I left instructions Miss Duayne was not to have visitors

"Not with me you didn't."

"You were distinctly told--"

"I wasn't told anything. I just came in, walked down here and checked to see how Miss Duayne was. Oh, and thank you for that ME's report it confirmed what my cousin and I suspected."

"What do you mean confirmed? Confirmed what?"

"That Richard's death wasn't the natural death your hospital declared"

Teesdale seemed to lose weight as Nick tipped his hat and said goodbye.

********

Tom Thatcher put the phone down slowly and stared at his desk. The message had been direct, brief and it wasn't sugar-coated. When it rang again he hesitated, he'd had enough bad news but after several rings his secretary stuck her head in the door asking if he wanted her to take the call.

"No . . . I've got it." He waited until she was gone and he answered.

"Tom? Did Brax call you?"

"He did."

"What are we going to do?"

"Toe the line, Brian. What else can we do?"

"He'll ruin us!"

"Only if our little problem doesn't go away . . . look, I've got a lot of thinking to do. We can talk later."

"But what about Carl and Aaron?"

"What about them? Nobody even knows about Aaron and he isn't a board member anyway so don't go blabbing anything. Just keep your head down and wait and see what Brax has in mind."

"But--"

"Goodbye, Brian."

Tom leaned on his desk and began to think of all the ways he might be culpable in BKD's operation and how he might mitigate the exposure. His eyes wandered to the file cabinet and all the papers filed for the properties he represented. The pain started in his temple.