Sheila told Tim as they surveyed the department’s snowmobiles, which were half buried, despite being parked under a carport behind the station. “Let’s start digging.” One big happy family, having what amounted to a pajama party on Christmas Eve, Craig thought, looking at the sham festivities going on around him.Quintin was crazy, he decided. Psychotic. The man was actually enjoying this. He was playing with these people, making them enact some sick mockery of what the night should be, letting them hope that if they did just as they were told, he would let them live. But he wouldn’t. As soon as he was ready to leave, he would kill them.But what the hell else was there to do but play along and pray that the moment would come when at least some of them could be saved?He was amazed that he hadn’t given himself away when the lights had gone out. He couldn’t believe Quintin had believed he’d tried to save him, not attack him.David O’Boyle had stood up for him. And he’d done it just right.Why?He’d never met the O’Boyles.
