There was no doorbell. Gabe banged the brass eagle knocker a few times.

There was no response. No surprise, he thought. No right-thinking paranoid would open a door without verifying the identity of the person on the other side.

“A.Z.? Gabe and Lillian out here,” he called.

The door did not open. He glanced at the nearest window. It was covered with what looked like blinds fashioned from metal slats.

“I got your message.” Lillian rapped her knuckles on the blank window. “Are you okay in there?”

The wind-driven rain whipped around the cabin. He knew Lillian was getting more agitated. He had to admit that the utter silence from inside the cabin was starting to bother him, too.

He tried the heavy, steel-braced screen door. It was locked.

“She’s not a young woman,” Lillian said. “I hope something hasn’t happened.”

“Like what?”

“A heart attack or stroke. Or maybe she fell.”

“Calm down. I’m sure she’s fine. Probably locked in her war room and can’t hear us.”

“Let’s try the back door.” Lillian turned and disappeared around the corner of the porch.

“Hang on, not so fast, damn it.” He went after her, moving quickly. “The woman’s a full-blown conspiracy theorist, remember? Paranoid as hell. No telling how she’s got this place booby-trapped.”

“I just want to see if I can find a window that isn’t covered with those steel blinds. I don’t understand why she isn’t-”

She broke off on a strangled gasp. He saw the crumpled body lying on the porch at the same time.

“A.Z.” Lillian rushed forward. “Oh, my God, Gabe, I was afraid of this. She’s had a heart attack.”

She went to her knees beside Arizona, feeling for a pulse at the throat.

He looked at the blood on the wooden boards beneath Arizona’s head and went cold.

“Not a heart attack.” The cell phone was in his hand. He didn’t remember taking it out of his pocket. He punched in the emergency number.

Lillian followed his gaze. “You’re right. It wasn’t her heart. She fell and hit her head.” Her fingers moved gently on Arizona’s throat. “She’s breathing but she’s unconscious. The bleeding doesn’t seem to be too bad.”

“Better not move her.”

Lillian nodded. She stripped off her cloak and arranged it snugly around Arizona’s chunky frame while he gave a terse account of the situation to the 911 operator.

He saw the overturned plant stand lying nearby just as he ended the call. The stand was made of wrought iron.

Lillian bent intently over A.Z. “Arizona? It’s me, Lillian. Help is on the way. You’re going to be okay. Can you hear me?”

Arizona groaned. Her lashes fluttered. She squinted up at Lillian.

“What happened?” she mumbled.

“It looks like you slipped and fell. How do you feel?”

“Bad.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Lillian said gently. “But you’re going to be okay.

Arizona closed her eyes again. She mumbled something.

“What did you say?” Lillian asked.

“Said I didn’t fall.”

“You probably don’t remember much,” Lillian said soothingly. “I think that’s pretty normal when you’ve had a blow to the head. Don’t worry about it.”

Arizona’s hand moved a little in a small, agitated gesture, but she did not speak again.

Lillian looked up and saw Gabe watching her. She frowned.

“What?”

“I don’t think she fell, either,” he said.

“Why in the world do you say that?”

“I’m no cop, but it looks to me like someone used that plant stand to hit her on the back of the head.”

They were standing in the busy hallway outside Arizona’s hospital room. Monitors beeped and pinged. Lights winked on computer screens. High-tech equipment gleamed. Eclipse Bay Community Hospital had moved with the times, Gabe thought.

He noticed that everyone around him who wore a name tag and a stethoscope appeared purposeful and competent and a little high on adrenaline. Those who were not decked out with a name tag and a stethoscope looked worried. Civilians, Gabe thought. He and Lillian fit into that category. Definitely worried.

Sean Valentine, Eclipse Bay’s chief of police, on the other hand, fell into some middle zone. He had the same purposeful, competent air that marked the members of the hospital staff, but he didn’t look as if he were enjoying an adrenaline rush. There were deep lines around his eyes and mouth. The marks weren’t caused by Arizona’s problems. Sean always looked as if he anticipated the worst. Gabe figured the permanently etched expression was a legacy of his days as a big-city cop in Seattle.

“Probably came home and interrupted some SOB who was trying to break into her cabin,” Sean said. “The bastard must have grabbed the first available heavy object and used it on the back of her skull.”

“Whoever he was, he can’t be from around here,” Gabe said. “Everyone in town knows that it would take an armored tank and a battering ram to break into A.Z.’s cabin.”

“Could have looked like a challenge to some dumb-ass kids from Chamberlain who’d had a few beers,” Sean speculated. “Or maybe a transient found the place and didn’t realize it was actually a small fortress.”

“He could have killed her.” Lillian’s anger vibrated in every word and in every line of her body. She was very tightly wound at the moment.

“The blow was a little off,” Sean said. “Fortunately for A.Z. She’s concussed but they say she should be okay. They’re going to keep her here at the hospital for a couple of days for observation.”

Lillian looked at him. “Are you sure we shouldn’t take that message she left on my machine seriously?”

“I take everything seriously,” Sean said. “Way I’m made, I guess. But I gotta tell you that a call from A.Z. claiming that she was being tailed by an institute spy does not give me a whole heck of a lot to work with. In her world, institute spies are everywhere and they’re all trying to follow her.”

“There is that,” Lillian agreed reluctantly.

“Another thing,” Sean added. “There’s a small flaw in A.Z.’s logic here. Assuming the institute actually employed spies, none of them would need to tail her in order to find out where she lives. Everyone in town knows where her cabin is located. All anyone looking for her would have to do is ask a few questions down at Fulton’s Supermarket or the video rental shop.”

“Nobody ever said A.Z.’s logic holds up well under scrutiny,” Gabe said.

Sean’s face twisted briefly in a wry smile. “Nope.”

Lillian gave them both a quelling glance. “A.Z. operates in a parallel universe but within that universe, her reasoning is consistent and logical.”

Sean looked wary. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that something scared her enough to make her use a telephone and leave a message on an answering machine. She would never willingly do that if she could avoid it. She’s convinced that all phones are tapped. She doesn’t even have one in her house.”

“Tapped by institute spies?” Sean asked politely.

Lillian exhaled unhappily. “Yes.”

“I think I’ll go with my theory of an interrupted burglary in progress for now, if you don’t mind. But if you get any more useful information from her when you talk to her, let me know.”

He nodded to Gabe, then turned and walked off down the hospital corridor. Lillian watched him until he turned a corner and disappeared. Then she looked at Gabe.

“He’s probably right, isn’t he?” she said.

“Probably.” Gabe hesitated. “You have to admit, it’s a simpler explanation than one involving vast government conspiracies. When it comes to this kind of stuff, cops prefer simple because most of the time that’s the right answer.”

“I know. And we are dealing with A.Z. here. Whatever the answer is, it can’t possibly be as mysterious as she thinks it is. Come on, let’s go see how she’s doing.”

“Sure.”