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    â€œI’ll stay here,” she said. “Cover me?”
    Vanderlock nodded. “Then take this and give me yours. The shotgun is more impressive at first glance.”
    They switched weapons and Vanderlock followed Gage, who was already down the steps and onto the back lawn. As if by unspoken agreement they split apart. Vanderlock headed right and Gage left. They melted into the trees. Caldridge stepped through the French doors into the house and hugged the wall where the glass door began, but watched the yard. She kept the shotgun in her hand. Ryan stepped past her into the house and saw Ruth to his right, hovering near the wall on the side opposite Caldridge and peering through a nearby window.
    â€œWe’re supposed to stay away from the windows,” he said.
    â€œNot a chance. I want to see this,” Ruth replied. “Here.” She held out a large, wicked-looking butcher knife and showed him a second one, slightly smaller but no less solid. “They’re from the kitchen.” He took the knife and joined her at the window.
    â€œDo you see them?” he whispered to Caldridge.
    She shook her head and kept watching the lawn.
    Two men stepped out from the path, both holding guns. Neither was the heavyset man who had shot at him. One was skinny and tall, the other average height. Both had sandy-colored hair trimmed in a bowl cut that gave them an odd, old fashioned air. Both looked angry as hell.
    Neither man saw Gage and Vanderlock emerge from the trees behind them. Vanderlock did something to his gun and it made a loud clicking noise. Ryan didn’t know anything about guns, but to him it sounded like a bullet being chambered. It must have to the men as well, because both froze. Vanderlock moved up behind the skinny one and put the muzzle to the base of the man’s skull, and Gage slid the knife down along the other man’s thigh before moving it between his legs and pushing upward. The man gave a surprised shriek and paled.
    â€œDon’t make me cut,” Gage said. “Both of you drop the guns.”
    The guns fell to the grass. Despite the rapid change in the power dynamic, both men remained defiant.
    Caldridge stepped out onto the porch, standing in a wide stance and holding the gun up and ready.
    â€œGive us Ryan,” the skinny one said.
    Caldridge kept the shotgun on her hip as she picked up her glass of scotch and took a slow sip. She shook her head.
    â€œNo.” She spoke in a conversational voice, as if they were discussing something friendly.
    â€œWe’ll do what it takes,” the second man said. “We don’t show up with Ryan, then there are others that will take our place. He won’t get away.” The man had a triumphant and strangely intent look in his eye.
    â€œMaybe you tell me why you want him,” Caldridge said. The skinny one took a deep breath.
    â€œWe’re Children of the Second Coming. The Supreme Son has been kidnapped and we need to pay the ransom. He had a policy and the company denied it. Ryan needs to change the code.”
    â€œHmm,” Caldridge said. She took a couple of steps backwards and leaned toward the screens. “You know what they’re talking about?” she said in a soft voice to Ryan.
    Ruth glanced at Ryan, clearly interested to hear his answer.
    â€œThey’re with a cult based in Utah. Insular and strange. They don’t believe in education for women and they all work and live in a commune. The guy they’re calling the Supreme Son is a former insurance broker who managed to get the company to approve a kidnap policy by lying on the application. He never mentioned that he was the head of a cult, had six wives, and was engaged in forcing girls to marry much older men in the commune. He’s under investigation by the FBI. Fraud, criminal acts, or perjury voids the policy. When he went missing, we denied coverage.”
    â€œForcing girls into marriage? I