TERRY'S LIPS TIGHTENED. Her tongue felt heavy. Swallowing hard, she let everything sink in. There was silence everywhere till Clinton's voice broke the sullen stillness. "Terry, are you all right?"

She didn't answer. Her hands were suddenly numb and for a moment she thought she'd frozen.

"Terry, I repeat, are you all right? My men are coming soon. Don't worry. If you're scared I understand, but I promise you nothing will happen."

He stomped to the section she stood still so fast that she thought he was going to shoot her. But to her dismay, he snatched the telephone, said into the mouthpiece, "No, she's definitely not okay," and broke the device into pieces. Then he smashed it hard on the wall.

Terry stiffened.

"Who's coming?"

Her lips quivered. She didn't reply and his anger got worse.

"Who's coming?" he shouted.

She was compelled to lift her head and look at him. He wasn't in his prison suit, which meant he had had time to change. The clothes smelled of shrubbery and marshes like he had been running in the woods forever. For one instant, she wondered why she'd care about his appearance instead of finding a way out. Terry drew back her eyes from him before she said, "I don't know."

"Don't bullshit me!"

She disliked the profanity in his words. She was glad neither her daughter nor her husband was in the house to witness this mess.

"I'm telling the truth. I don't know them."

He snapped, "Is it the FBI? CIA?. . .who's coming?"

She became irritated for having to repeat herself. "I don't know them. If I did I'd tell you."

She sounded sincere. He didn't bother her with the question. Instead, he asked for the identity of the caller.

"His name is James Clinton. He's the Attorney General."

"Why did he tell you his men were coming?"

Terry swallowed hard. "Isn't it obvious? It's because of you." The words were already to slip out, but she held them back. Although she wanted to retort and even smash the vase on the table across his face, she couldn't do any of that, not when he had a firearm.

"He thinks my life's at stake."

He nodded and said sardonically, "Why'd he think that?"

The nagging questions upset her. But then she realized that if he was stalled long enough for Clinton's men to arrive, they might rescue her from him. The plan now was to engage and keep stalling him.

She thought about the question, each time, peeping in the driveway for any sign of her rescuers. "I don't know."

He waved his gun at her and she flinched. Terry braced herself for death, but when he motioned her to the exit, she realized he wasn't going to kill her. He had another diabolic plan in mind. Where was he leading her to? She moved her lips apart but connected the dots herself. Ethan hadn't broken into her house to kill her like he had killed the witness.

They got to the threshold. He looked at her and said, "Do you have the keys?"

"What?"

"The car keys."

He wanted the keys to her Mercedes-Benz in the driveway. She was being kidnapped and Clinton's men were far away. To delay his time, she shook her head, halted, and muttered, "I don't have them."

"You better don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying!"

She'd misplaced her car keys earlier and hadn't had time to search for them. Even if she had them at the moment, there was no way she'd have handed him the keys.

"Move!"

He shoved her with the gun in the back. Terry propelled toward the door. Her fingers trembled as she went for the knob. She opened it and stepped out, Ethan trailing her. They climbed down the short staircase to the porch and landed on the ground together.

Terry wondered what he planned to do without her car keys. They walked to the door. He backstepped and pulled out his gun, directing it at the handle. He was going to open fire in broad daylight. Good! It'd attract onlookers, but after she saw the silencer on the muzzle, her hopes shattered. He fired a shot. A pop emanated, not loud enough to attract attention.

Putting the gun back into the waistband, he looked at her, and she quickly shifted her eyes. "Get inside the car, slowly. Don't try to play smart else I will not hesitate to pull the trigger."

She gulped. The threat was enough for him to get her cooperation. He opened the damaged door for her and just when she placed a leg inside, she heard a woman shout her name. "Terry!"

Terry whipped her head in the direction of the caller, thanking God for creating this perfect distraction. While she was imperceptibly celebrating, he was fuming. A fat woman in a jogging suit was walking her dog down the street. She veered toward the driveway and ran to Terry.

Due to the media blitz, Ethan knew very well his face was already pasted on every damn TV screen and paper in South Carolina. He didn't doubt everyone knew him by face now. He moved forward, grabbed the red cap on the dashboard, and flicked it on before the woman hurled herself to their section.

Ethan whispered, "Don't try anything." He revealed his waistband for her to see the gun and in the process, she noticed the deep wound on his lower torso. He was badly hurt. Instead of seeking medical attention, he was seeking revenge.

"You need to see a doctor. That wound probably is infected."

He glared at her. "Don't try to play smart." He was more interested in her not botching his evil plan to kidnap her than his health.

The woman pulled Terry into a hug, brushing her back. "I'm so happy to see you, Terry."

Terry returned the hug. She clamped her arms around her and for one moment, she didn't want to let go of her. Trying not to sound scared, she said, "I'm also happy to see you, Elle."

She pulled back and they shared a wistful look. "He's all over the news. . .the man you sentenced to the death penalty. They say he's out there."

Terry sighed sharply. Elle was a garrulous person. Had she noticed Ethan and recognized him? That's unlikely. Her attention was fully on her. When she analyzed what her neighbor said, she wanted to tell her that she didn't make the decision to send Ethan to death row and that it was the state law. Why wouldn't anyone understand she was doing her job? She'd been tagged with this for a while now, and she was beginning to hate presiding over that trial.

"Yes. I heard he's escaped."

Elle put on a worried look. "Are you scared?"

Terry's brows puckered. "Why should I be scared?"

"That he might come after you." She said it bluntly Terry was pushed to peep at him.

"No. I don't think he would. Besides, I heard the feds are on his trail. It's only a matter of time before they find him."

She said that aloud so Ethan would hear and maybe freak out. But that didn't intimidate him or send him away. He stood there, constantly pulling down the cap.

"I hope so."

Her dog moved around Ethan, encircling him. It stopped halfway and started barking at him. Both Elle and Terry looked at him. Damn. Ethan shooed it with his leg to no avail.

"Come here, girl," Elle said to the dog and scooped her up from the floor, then turned to the stranger.

"Who's he?"

Ethan didn't lift his head. Terry fumbled with a reply, so he put on the heavy accent of a British gentleman and said, "Her brother."

Elle giggled. "Whoa! What a voice!"

She moved forward and valiantly touched his muscular bicep. Ethan's eyes widened and he almost reached for the gun, his heart racing.

"That's quite a muscle." She was still holding his bicep and massaging it when she faced Terry. "You didn't tell me you had a brother." She drew back her eyes to Ethan and said in a snarky tone, "Can I see your face so I can observe the resemblance?"

Terry didn't hyperventilate. She controlled her breathing. Elle shouldn't be asking that. It'd be terrible if she saw his face and recognized him as the mass murderer. Elle was a jovial person, but she had crossed paths with the wrong person to joke with. She had to do something. Elle mustn't see his face.

Terry stepped forward and tucked her slender arm into his. A chill ran down his spine. It'd been a while since he had been touched by a woman. Her gentle touch sent another signal. Along the line, he'd wanted to pull the gun at the woman to scare her off. But Terry's touch told him Elle didn't mean any harm and he'd gain nothing by frightening the poor woman.

He inhaled her fragrance. She smelled of red roses while he smelled of marshes. Her pleasant smell made him yearn for a cold bath. After he escaped, he ran into the woods with the gun he snatched from the federal agent he knocked down. He didn't know what caused the van to stop, but he was glad it did and that made room for his escape.

Once he was a free man again, he boarded the train to Greenville, where he planned on capturing the witness who testified against him in court. But unfortunately, someone got to him before he could have a nice chat with him. It shocked him that the media was trying to chalk up the murder to him.

"I'm sorry, Elle, but my brother and I need to leave. We're running out of time."

Terry pushed Ethan toward the car before she could respond. She waved to Elle and she watched them enter the car. After he rolled up all the windows, he pulled his gun at her and asked her to drive.

She gripped the steering wheel and looked at him. She was indistinctively annoyed that he had the nerve to wear her husband's cap without her permission.

"Where are we going?"

"Shut up and drive!"

She wanted to rebel, but instincts told her not to argue with him. She pushed her hand to the ignition and saw that the keys weren't there. She'd bought herself more time. Stifling a smirk, she glanced at him and said, "I can't. I don't know how to bypass the ignition."

He put on a scowl before he tended to the minor problem. He moved his hand forward and started twisting cords. While he was busy trying to start the car, she thought of running. It was a dangerous move, but what else could she do? Although she could tell he wasn't going to kill her now, she didn't doubt he'd do it eventually.

She debated her decision. She heard the engine purr loudly, and she quelled the thought. He'd managed to bypass the ignition lock. The gun pointed at her, he asked her to drive, and Terry did just that. She pushed back the gear stick, took a sharp turn onto the adjourning street, and they disappeared.

#. #. #

The rescue team Clinton dispatched would have stopped Ethan from taking Judge Terry away if they'd arrived minutes earlier. Hurtling across the narrow street in the perfect neighborhood, the driver lurched the car into the Judge's driveway so fast that the tyres screeched loudly.

Elle pulled back a drape and observed the yonder house that stood towering into the sky. When she saw the men jump out of the Renault parked in her friend's driveway, she hurled herself to her doorstep and stood on the porch, watching them. Were they looking for the Judge?

The strangers seemed like important people looking at their expensive suits and Elle wasn't surprised. She'd seen a whole television crew some days ago storm Terry's house just to interview her. A day or two ago, there had been an unmarked van in her driveway and two feds in plainclothes had watched her house like predators watching their prey and waiting for the perfect moment. She was sure she'd seen the senator here in late February or so at Terry's house-she couldn't remember exactly.

Judge Terry was a very prominent woman with such prestige that brought all the dignitaries in South Carolina to this neighborhood. Elle had always been fond of her. With all the fame she had, she was still friendly. After she moved in with her family, she threw a house-warming party and invited all the people in the hood. Initially, Elle hadn't known she was the famous Judge Terry till after she had a few glasses of Chardonnay with her.

They'd vibed very well and that's where their friendship began. A friendship she'd found quite odd. Elle couldn't go to college and attain her dream of becoming a medical doctor due to financial problems, but that didn't kill her confidence. She had always wondered how a person of low class like her could get along so well with a woman who had worked hard her whole life to become a very great person. But then she remembered life had a silly way of pairing people.

She wasn't jealous of the Judge and all her achievements. If anything she was grateful Terry allowed her into her life.

The men moved briskly to the Judge's neat porch, and her curiosity heightened. Her brows puckered after they opened the door. Terry never left home without locking her door, and she didn't see the strangers struggling to open it. How did they open the Judge's door, and who were they?

She hurried toward them and said, "Excuse me. Maybe I could help you."

The men turned around in her direction, their serious faces scared the hell out of her. They looked a lot like one of those stars who chased down bad guys on streets in Hollywood movies.

"Yes," one of them spoke up, "we work for an underground organization that protects the nation." He showed her a badge, but she couldn't tell if it was genuine or fake. The only organizations she knew of weren't underground, but she'd heard of secret organizations that remained low profile for the sake of national security.

She nodded, not because she was satisfied, but she felt it was the only thing she should do. The man continued, "Have you seen Judge Terry this morning?"

"Yes. She left a while ago. If you'd come a bit earlier you'd have met her."

The men shared a tense look, and then he said, "Did you see anyone with her?"

"She left with a man. Her brother, she told me."

"Describe him," the other man said.

"He was very tall and well-built. That's all I can say because I didn't see his face. Judge Terry said they were in a hurry."

"In a hurry to go where?" the first man asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. The Judge didn't tell me but-"

The men ceased every activity and listened attentively.

"-she sounded different."

"Different? In what way?" the first man said.

"Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but she seemed uncomfortable with the man like he's. . ." Her voice trailed away.

"All right. Thank you. If you remember anything else, call this number." The first man gave her a card. She took it and walked away.

They connected the missing pieces themselves. Ethan Willows got here first, pulled a gun at the Judge-perhaps-and took her away at gunpoint. But that didn't make any sense at all. Clinton was so sure Ethan wanted the Judge dead.

They entered the house. The first man, Tony Ruffus surveyed the living room while his partner Allan Crow took care of the other rooms. After minutes of searching the place, they met in the living room. Behind the staircase, they found a suitcase. The Judge hadn't taken it along. Ruffus took out his cell and made contact.

"Are you at the house?" Clinton asked. He hadn't been one to exchange pleasantries, especially in moments he considered crises.

"Yes."

"And Judge Terry?"

There was silence, then he replied, "Gone. He got here first. He has the Judge."

The likelihood that the Judge was dead by now was high to Ruffus. But if Ethan wanted her dead, why hadn't he killed her on the spot like he had killed Hamilton? He worked the angle and found an answer to the worrying question. Ethan didn't want the Judge dead. He wanted her alive. And for a reason.

"What should we do?"

He didn't reply so he thought he'd hung up on him. He pulled the phone to his face and saw that he was still on the line. He replaced it.

"If Ethan took Terry, then we can't protect her anymore. I don't doubt he's already got her to talk."

"For now spread the word. Let the media make another breaking headline. Ethan hates attention and if we give him one, he might decide to turn himself in."

"Consider it done."

"Good. Ethan is desperate and disorganized. The probability he's going to make mistakes is high. Let's use it to our advantage. Was Terry's car in the driveway when you got to the house?"

"No."

"Great! I will send you the number plate, and I'm praying Terry took her phone along. That son of a bitch isn't getting out alive."