The disabling punch Howie Boy Collier had delivered to her torso incapacitated Petronia. The sharp pain in her liver wasn't a good sign, and she worried about internal injuries. She recovered enough during the helicopter flight to recognize the Harrisburg skyline and Harrisburg International Airport.

A Ford Explorer waited for the helicopter near a private terminal. Howie Boy helped her from the chopper. She groaned, barely able to breathe much less walk.

"Behave yourself, and I promise not to hit you again," Howie Boy told her.

She had no choice but to play along. One thing in her favor, this was her home turf and she knew the territory. As soon as he settled her into the backseat of the Explorer, Howie Boy pulled a black scarf from the glove box.

You'll need to wear this, doll." He tied the scarf around her eyes. "Don't take it off until I say so."

"Don't call me doll." She wouldn't be able to take it off anyway. Her hands were still tied behind her back.

Pet heard the helicopter power up, likely on a return trip to the office tower in Philadelphia. She wondered if the pilot would report her abduction. Probably not. She heard the front door slam shut. Howie Boy started the engine.

"We're going to my family hunting lodge," he said. "I know you patrol Perry County, but I doubt if you've ever been to our lodge. It's very remote, way up in the mountains. The blindfold is precautionary. In the unlikely event you escape after we get there, you won't know which way to go."

Follow the water downstream, she thought. It would eventually lead to civilization. Apparently, Howie Boy hadn't been listening when she told him that back at his office. She found it encouraging, him making sure she wouldn't see where he was taking her. It meant he might not kill her right away.

"Only reason you're still breathing," he said, as if reading her mind, "you need to tell me who your witness is."

Petronia said nothing.

They drove for over an hour, the last ten minutes over a bumpy, rough road. She figured it was a dirt road or two-track up into the mountains. When the vehicle stopped, he let her out and unmasked her.

From the angle of the setting sun Petronia could determine they were on the north facing side of a mountain. The view was spectacular, if you liked seeing nothing but barren trees. They had shed their leaves weeks ago. Behind her stood a grove of pines. In the middle of the grove, a large log home with a green metal roof and stone chimney. A covered porch wrapped around the front and sides.

"Nice place," she uttered through her pain.

"Glad you like it," Howie Boy said. "You'll likely be here a while."

He led her up a wide staircase, unlocked a massive front door with a skeleton key, and motioned for her to enter. He flicked on the lights. They stood in a great room, a stone fireplace on the interior of the wall opposite the stone chimney she had seen from the outside. The furniture was mostly made of polished wood covered with cushions; the motif of the place decidedly rustic.

It reminded her a lot of the Inn of the Dancing Bear.

"Can you untie me?" she asked. "I really need to use a bathroom."

He unfastened the electric cord that bound her. She rubbed her wrists to get the blood flowing.

"Bathroom is that way." He pointed.

Pet found herself in a small, windowless, powder room. She locked the door and removed her blazer and blouse. Her belly was painted dark purple, almost black. Not good. After relieving herself, she checked for blood in her urine and felt a small measure of relief when she found none. Still, the pain she was experiencing meant serious trouble. She redressed and left the powder room.

Howie Boy sat on a recliner, fully extended. He looked tired.

"What now?" she asked.

He met her gaze. "I don't rightly know. We're in uncharted waters."

"You could let me go. I'm in a lot of pain. Your punch hurt me really bad. I'm pretty sure I'm bleeding inside."

"Tell me about the witness, and I'll consider letting you go."

She sat on a sofa, the effort nearly bringing tears to her eyes. "Do you have any pain meds?"

Howie Boy got up and walked away. He appeared with a bottle of Bayer aspirin and a prescription vial of Oxycodone. He handed them both to her. "If you're bleeding, best not take the aspirin. Anyway, the oxy will be more effective. Let me get you a glass of water." He disappeared again.

Pet heard water running from the kitchen tap and wondered why he was being so hospitable. He returned and handed her the glass.

She downed two oxy tabs. "You seem to care about my comfort. Does that mean you're not going to kill me?"

He lowered himself back into the recliner. "I don't want to kill anyone. I'm not a monster, and I'm profoundly sorry about hitting you so hard. I had to stop you from leaving."

Pet didn't believe him. He was just being nice to find out about Barlow. "Yet here we are. You can't keep me forever."

"I know that. I'm thinking about my options."

"Just so you know, you're wrong about me being alone. There are people who know I had an appointment today. Then there is the security attendant in your lobby. Your father and his secretary whom I spoke with over the phone earlier also know. No matter what happens, if there's an inquiry, the truth will come out."

Howie Boy cradled his forehead in his palm. "Shut up. I need to think."

"I can help you to think. Kill me or not, it's over. I am a Pennsylvania State Police Trooper who has gone missing after making an appointment with your father. If I disappear everything will point back to your father and eventually to you. Let me take you in. Don't make this situation worse for yourself."

Howie Boy laid his head back against the recliner cushion and sighed. "I have a wife and children. I'm running for governor."

"I don't care about your politics."

"It's ruined," Howie Boy lamented, "all ruined due to a youthful indiscretion that happened long ago."

"Is that what you call killing Neil Mantener? A youthful indiscretion?"

He raised his voice, sounding manic. "I've atoned for Neil Mantener many times over. I've provided jobs to hundreds of families, I've built hospitals and schools." He got out of his chair and started pacing. "I can fix this. There's still time. I just need to think."

The man was panicking and talking in circles. Petronia didn't see the sense in continuing to argue. Besides, the oxy was kicking in, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Let me help you to one of the guest bedrooms upstairs," he said. "It has its own bathroom, so you'll have privacy."

Petronia didn't want him to touch her. "I'll find it myself." Except she had trouble standing on her own.

He came to her side, gently raising her. "Like I said, I'm no monster. I don't want to hurt you...any more than I have to."

Too weak and in too much pain to respond, she couldn't resist his helping her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He guided her onto the bed and removed her shoes.

"Don't touch me," she protested.

He covered her with a blanket. "Why did you have to stick your nose in my business, doll? Why couldn't you just leave things be instead of putting me in the position of deciding if you should live or die?"

Because she was a good cop. He may have bought off others, but he wouldn't be able to buy her off.

"You don't look so good," he said. "You might be right. There's a good chance you have serious internal injuries." He leaned over her. "I'll make you a deal. Tell me who your witness is, and I'll take you to the hospital."

"No witness," she mumbled and closed her eyes. "I lied about that."

"You're lying now. I figure the only reason this long-buried case got reopened is because someone stepped forward. You told me about the steamer trunk and nobody knew about that. Someone saw me."

"No witness," she repeated barely conscious now, wanting desperately to escape her pain by falling asleep.

"If you're busted up inside, you might not survive until tomorrow. Tell me, and I'll drive you to the hospital immediately."

Petronia's mind drifted to Barlow. He had to be out of his mind wondering what happened. Did he love her enough to rescue her? Would he even know where to look? They had wasted ten of their best years apart. Now that they were coming back together, it wasn't fair that she should die.

"Come for me," she mumbled her plea. "Barlow."

Before sleep closed in on her, she heard Howie Boy Collier repeat the name she had just mumbled.

"Barlow."

Is there any chance Howie Boy can be reasoned with?