Dusk was approaching by the time he pulled to a stop at the gated entrance of the Dorian Institute. Along the way he'd begun getting a sense that they were being followed by a dark‑colored Lincoln Town Car, but it could have been his imagination. And he hadn't seen it for the past fifteen minutes, after he pulled onto the leafy lakeside drive leading to the institute.
"Hey, we're here, Ally. Rise and shine. How're you feeling?"
There was no response when he touched her.
Wednesday, April 8
7:20 p.m.
"Jesus, Ally, are you all right?" He leaned over and shook her.
Finally she jumped, and then her eyelids fluttered open.
"Where . . . ?" She looked around.