Hemlock Bay

Sherlock gave him a clear look. “We have time. Stop worrying. Marilyn will be here in about two hours. We’ll go over everything with her, step by step.”

“What if Tammy isn’t alone? What if Tammy has been traveling around as Timmy this whole time? Remember, it was Timmy who called Marilyn at Quantico.”

Sherlock had never before seen him so questioning of what he was doing.

When she spoke, Sherlock’s voice was as calm as the incredible blue water not one hundred yards away, “One arm is one arm, despite anything else. No one on any of the islands has reported anyone jiggering about with just one arm. The odds are stacked way against her. You know all the local police in both the British Virgin Islands and the U.S. Virgin Islands are on full alert. The Antiguan authorities aren’t used to mayhem like this, so you can bet they’re very concerned, probably more hyper than we are, particularly after those crime-scene photos. Dillon, everyone is taking this very seriously.”

“So you think I should just chill out?”

“No, that’s impossible. But you’re very smart, top drawer. Just stop trying to second-guess yourself. You’ve done everything to prepare. If we have to deal with something other than just Tammy, we will.”

The local cops, of which there weren’t many, had converged on the airport. They were trying to look inconspicuous and failing, but they were trying, a couple of them even joking with tourists. All of them were used to dealing with locals who occasionally smoked too much local product or drank too much rum, or an occasional tourist who tried to steal something from a duty-free store. Nothing like this. This was beyond their experience.

Savich just couldn’t help himself. He checked and rechecked with Vi

Would Tammy come in by plane? Would she simply walk in? No one knew. All hotels and rooming houses had been checked, rechecked. Jimmy Maitland was seated in the police commissioner’s office with its overhead fan, boiling alive in his nice fall suit.

There were nearly fifty FBI perso

A couple of hours later, Marilyn Warluski, scared to the soles of her new Nike ru

“She’s coming, Mr. Savich,” Marilyn said, her voice dull and flat when he checked in with her again at six o’clock that evening. She was standing by the Information Desk in the airport, the Caribbean Airlines counter just off to the left.

“It will be all right, Marilyn,” Virginia said, her voice more excited than soothing, and patted her hand for at least the thirtieth time. “Agent Savich won’t let anything happen, you’ll see. We’ll nail Tammy.”

“I told you it was Timmy who called me. When she’s Timmy, she can do anything.”

“I thought she could do anything when she was Tammy, too,” Savich said.

“She can. He can. If they’re both here, not just Timmy, then there’ll be real trouble.”

Savich felt a twist of fear in his guts. He said slowly, his voice deep and calm, “Marilyn, what do you mean if they’re both here? You mean both Tammy and Timmy? I don’t understand.”

Marilyn shrugged. “I didn’t think to tell you, but I saw it happen once, back a couple of years ago. We were in that dolled-up tourist town, Oak Bluffs. You know, on Martha’s Vineyard. I saw Tammy comin’ out of this really pretty pink Victorian house where we were all stayin’ and she just suddenly turned several times, you know, real fast, like Lynda Carter did whenever she was goin’ to change into Wonder Woman. Same thing. Tammy turned into Timmy, like they were blended together somehow, and it was the scariest thing I’d ever seen until Tammy walked into that motel room all covered in that little boy’s blood.”

Savich knew this was nuts. Tammy couldn’t change from a woman into a man. That was impossible, but evidently Marilyn believed it. He said, carefully, “It seemed to you that Tammy and Timmy somehow coalesced into one person?”

“Yeah, that’s it. She whirled around several times and then there was Timmy, all horny and smart-mouthed.”

“When Tammy turned into Timmy, what did he look like?”

“Like Tammy but like a guy, you know?”

Virginia Cosgrove looked thoroughly confused. She started to say something, but Savich shook his head at her. Savich wanted to ask Marilyn to describe Timmy. Marilyn was suddenly standing perfectly still. She seemed to sniff the air like an animal scenting danger. She whispered, “I can feel Timmy close, Mr. Savich. He’s real close now. Oh, God, I’m scared. He’s going to wring my neck like a chicken’s for helping you.”

“I don’t understand any of this.” Virginia Cosgrove whispered low, just like Marilyn had. “So Tammy is really a guy?”

“I guess we’ll find out, Agent Cosgrove. Don’t dwell on it. Your priority is Marilyn. Just protect Marilyn.”

Marilyn leaned close and took Virginia’s hand. “You won’t let him take me, will you, Agent Cosgrove?”

“No, Marilyn, I won’t even let him get close to you.” She said to Savich, “You can count on me. I’ll guard her with my life.”

It was seven o’clock in the evening, just an hour later. Since it was fall, the sun had set much earlier, and it was dark now, the sky filling with stars and a half-moon. It was beautiful and warm. The cicadas and the coquis were playing a symphony if anyone was inclined to listen.

The airport looked fairly normal except it was probably a bit too crowded for this time of day, something Savich hoped Tammy Tuttle wouldn’t realize. But he knew she would notice because the local cops looked jumpy, too ill at ease for her not to notice. Or for Timmy to notice. Or whichever one of them showed.

Savich drew a deep breath as he watched the crowd. He said, “Timmy is close, Sherlock, that’s what Marilyn said. She said she could feel him. That was an hour ago. I think she’s even more scared than I am. She also firmly believes-no doubt at all in her mind-that Tammy can change into a guy at will, into this Timmy.”

Sherlock said, “If a Timmy shows up, then I’ll check us both into Bellevue.”

“You got that right.”

There weren’t that many tourists in the airport now, real tourists at least. The major flights from the States had arrived, passengers dispersed, and just a few island-to-island flights were going out in the evening. This was both good and bad. There was less cover, but also less chance that a civilian would be harmed.

When it happened, it was so quick that no one had a chance to stop it. A short, rangy man, pale as death itself, with close-cropped black hair, except for some curls on top of his head, seemed suddenly to simply appear behind Agent Virginia Cosgrove. He said against her ear, “Just move, sweetie, make any movement at all to alert all the Feds hanging around here and I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. What’ll be fun is that you’ll live long enough to see your blood gush out in a bright red fountain.”

Virginia heard Marilyn whimper. How had he gotten behind her? Why hadn’t someone alerted her? Why hadn’t someone seen him? Yes, it sounded like a man, like this Timmy Tuttle Marilyn had talked about. What was going on here? She had to be calm, wait for her chance. She slowly nodded. “I won’t make a move. I won’t do anything.”