By reason of insanity

102

Without warning, everything went dark.

Quinn had no idea what had just happened. A blown fuse? The engine was still powering beneath them, the boat gliding forward. Quinn could barely make out the contour of objects in the study-the darkness broken only by a dim light that seemed to be filtering down the hallway from the main deck.

This might be his last chance.

He flung his handcuffed fists back and to his right, like a double-fisted backhand, connecting with what felt like the face of Boland. Pain shot through Quinn's injured right shoulder.

Crack! Boland squeezed off a shot as he fell backward, and Quinn felt the bullet breeze past his head.

Bo crashed into the wall, and Quinn dove at him, landing on top of Bo and grabbing his right wrist with both hands. Quinn slammed Bo's gun hand against the wall, trying to dislodge the gun, but Bo held on. With surprising speed, Bo locked onto Quinn's arm, lowered his own shoulder, and rolled, his weight carrying him on top of Quinn. He jammed his left elbow into Quinn's gut, a blow that caused Quinn to release his grip on Bo's wrist as the air fled from Quinn's lungs.

Bo exploded to his feet, then whirled and towered over Quinn, the gun pointed at his chest. "Nice try, Vegas," Bo gasped. "I like your spunk."

He took a step or two backward, out of Quinn's reach. Not that it mattered. Quinn was in excruciating pain and had no fight left in him.

"Billy!" Boland yelled. "What happened to the fuse?"

Getting no answer, Bo back-stepped to the door and flipped the light switch a few times to no avail. He raised the gun slightly so it pointed directly at Quinn's forehead. Though Boland's hand was steady, Quinn could tell that the darkness and the lack of response from Billy Long had him worried.

"Billy!" Bo yelled again.

He glanced into the narrow hallway and apparently saw nothing. Breathing heavily, he took a step toward Quinn. "You just forfeited your last meal, Vegas. Any last words?"

Surprisingly, looking down the barrel of the gun, Quinn felt no fear. In that final split second, his life reduced itself to a series of images, past and future, flashing across Quinn's brain in nanoseconds, producing a final collage of intense emotions. Annie and Sierra embracing again. Sierra's wedding. Annie's grandchild. Law partners in solemn mourning one second and at their desks the next. Snapshots of clients and friends. And one final picture freezing on Catherine O'Rourke, her compassionate eyes comforting Quinn, her lips mouthing his name…

A shot rang out. Quinn flinched, anticipating the impact.