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Ethan.”
    â€œI will if I just get a chance to see the man.”
    â€œNow that’s not likely to happen.”
    Meg’s frustration level was reaching mammoth proportions, overcoming even her nervousness. She stomped over and plopped herself down on the bed, ignoring its inviting comfort. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI mean Ethan doesn’t like people looking at him, you should have figured that out by now. If and when he decides to talk to you, it will probably be in darkness.”
    For a moment, she was speechless. “If? What are the alternatives?”
    â€œOne, that you stay here until he changes his mind. Or two, he’ll send you away and concentrate on crucifying your father. If I were you, I’d hope he chooses number one.”
    â€œI hope he chooses to stop this melodrama and talk with me tonight.”
    â€œThat’s also possible. I’ll let you know when I bring you your supper.”
    â€œI don’t want any.”
    â€œI’m bringing it anyway. Just relax, girly. At least you’ve got plenty of books to read.” He gestured to the small bookcase she’d almost overlooked, stacked with paperback novels. The room was too dark for her to read the titles, but that was at least a minor comfort if she were forced to keep waiting.
    â€œI’ll be back.” He’d already pulled out that heavy ring of keys as he headed to the door.
    â€œYou’re not locking me in again,” she said, her voice rising in panic.
    â€œFor your own safety, girly. This can be a dangerous place, and we don’t want you wandering where you don’t belong.”
    He’d already locked the door by the time she reached it, and the heavy wood muffled her cries, muffled the heavy tread of his footsteps as he walked away.
    Â 
    â€œS HE’S WORSE THAN THE townspeople,” Salvatore announced in disgust when he stepped back into the darkened room.
    Ethan Winslowe didn’t move. “No one’s worse than the townspeople.”
    â€œShe’s just as gullible.”
    â€œThat’s because we’re going out of our way to frighten her. The good people of Oak Grove have come up with horror stories on their own. We’re doing our best to frighten Meg Carey witless,” Ethan observed dispassionately. “It’s working very well, too.” He glanced over at the monitor. The candlelit room was murky, but he could see her leaning against the door, for a moment looking abject. He didn’t want to see her cowed. If she were beaten too easily, he’d have to let her go. And he was feeling more alive than he had in a long, long time. “Feed her,” he said. “Then bring her to me at midnight. Make sure she knows what time it is. I’ll see her in the computer room.”
    â€œShe won’t eat.”
    â€œWe’ll simply have to convince her.”
    â€œEthan.” Salvatore’s voice was troubled. “Are you sure you ought to be doing this? I mean, she hasn’t done anyone any harm as far as we know. Her father’s a crook, but we don’t know that she’s anything more than a loving daughter.”
    â€œI don’t imagine she is,” Ethan said in his slow, almost dreamy voice. “Are you feeling sorry for her, old friend?”
    â€œA little. I don’t think she deserves to be frightened.”
    â€œI should let her go?” He asked the question very softly. “Say the word, Sally, and I’ll release her.”
    Salvatore shook his head. “That’s up to you. She came here for a reason—you might as well hear her out. But then you should let her go back home.”
    â€œAnd if I don’t want to?”
    â€œI don’t understand why not.”
    Ethan moved his head a fraction, to stare at the television monitor. She’d moved from the door, across the room to stare out the casement windows. She was wearing the clothes she’d come in, a