Wildest Hearts

you think you're going a little too far to avenge this dearly beloved brother of yours? The jerk was running guns, for heavens sake. He wasn't exactly a saint.”

    “He was my brother,” Grace snarled. “He was all the family I had.” He took off his glasses again and started to wipe the lenses. “Damn humidity.”

    At that instant the greenhouse lights winked out. Before Annie's eyes could even begin to adjust to the sudden darkness, a hard, driving rain started to fall from the ceiling.

    The amount of water coming down was astonishing. Annie realized something must have gone wrong with the system. The torrent quickly soaked her clothes and hair. It splashed down with the force of a waterfall, creating a thundering roar as it struck the graveled paths and the glass walls. The ferns rustled cheerfully beneath the deluge. Annie felt as though she really were standing in the middle of a rain forest.

    “Shit.” Grace cursed wildly somewhere off to Annie's right.

    She realized he couldn't see her in the darkness and the driving rain would be even more disorienting for him. This was the only chance she was likely to get.

    She dropped to the floor and started to crawl swiftly toward the door. She couldn't see a thing, but she knew the layout of the greenhouse well enough to head in the right direction.

    “What the fuck is going on?” Grace was screaming now. “Where are you, you bitch? Get over here. I'll kill you, I swear I will.”

    Annie crawled faster and blundered into a metal sprayer. She pushed it aside and kept going.

    “You're going to die, anyway, you stupid woman. Did you think I'd let you live? You're going to go over the edge of the roof when I'm finished with you. A suicide. You hear me? You're going to die, too.”

    Annie realized that the greenhouse door was open. She could feel the cold night air pouring into the miniature jungle. In the darkness she could not see Oliver, but she knew who it was who nearly tripped over her.

    “Annie?” The roar of artificial rain rendered Oliver's voice almost inaudible.

    “I'm okay. Oliver, be careful, he's got a gun.”

    “Right now I can't see him any better than he can see me,” Oliver said very softly. “Go outside and turn on the lights. Right-hand side of the control panel. Remember?”

    “Yes, but, Oliver…”

    “Do it.”

    Annie responded instinctively to the command in his voice. She lurched to her feet and went through the door. Outside things were more readily visible thanks to the reflected neon glow of the nighttime sky.

    She found the control panel and started pushing and pressing switches until the lights inside the greenhouse suddenly came to life.

    “Rain? It's you, isn't it?” Grace yelled. “I'm going to kill you, you bastard.”

    Annie whirled around and raced to the greenhouse door. She arrived just in time to see Oliver launch himself straight at Grace. Grace appeared to be trying to take aim with the gun, but he was having difficulty finding his quarry.

    Annie realized with a shock that Grace had managed to jam his glasses back on his face, but they weren't doing him much good. It was obvious he couldn't see much through the water that was sheeting off the lenses. She saw him reach up with his free hand to remove the glasses again in a desperate attempt to see more clearly, but he was too late.

    A shot crackled loudly above the roar of the artificial rain. Glass shattered.

    Oliver hit Grace with enough force to send both of them backward into the flooded grotto.

    Annie saw Oliver sit up quickly and draw back his arm for a final punch, but there was no need. Grace was lying very still against the rocks. The greenhouse rain continued to pour down relentlessly.

    Oliver got slowly to his feet. He stood looking down at Gresham for a long moment and then he turned slowly toward the door where Annie stood.

    “Oliver.” She stared at him as he walked toward her through the driving rain. “Oh, God, Oliver, I knew you would save me.”

    Annie hurled herself straight into his arms.

    Oliver held her to him as if he would never let go.

    Hours later Annie sat curled up beside Oliver on the sofa and listened to Bolt recount the results of his investigations and the details of what John Gresham alias Jonathan Grace had told the police.

    “We had it figured fairly accurately,” Bolt said. “John Gresham was in prison when his brother died. The news hit him hard from all accounts. When he got out a few months