'Something like that,' I said.
We inched forward in the dense rush hour. The windshield wipers worked steadily. In the glistening rain, the traffic lights were jewel-like.
'Maybe we should pick our spot,' I said.
'And hope he's ready?'
'If our spot looks really good to him,' I said, 'maybe he'll become ready.'
Z nodded. I began to push against the traffic, deking and diving as if maybe I were in a panic.
'First thing,' I said. 'You want somebody to chase you, you gotta run.'
Stephano stayed with us. In maybe forty minutes we pulled into a construction site, off Mystic Ave in Somerville, where a warehouse was being rehabbed into apartments. Most of the apartments would have a view of Somerville. Some expensive ones would offer the Mystic River.
We parked close, and made a dash through the rain into the building.
Even as our eyes adjusted, it was palpably dark inside. As we felt our way in, we encountered gutted-out lumber and tool stands, loose wires, sawhorses, and bales of insulation. Behind us, the doorless opening where we'd entered was a very slightly paler shade of black. There was a large obstacle in front of us, which felt like a pallet of bricks. We wedged around it and stopped and looked back at the faint opening where we'd entered.
'Now what?' Z said.
'We wait and see what develops,' I said.
'Crees great warriors of the High Plains,' Z said. 'Crees mostly don't fight in warehouses.'
'One might,' I said.
'What if they don't follow us in?' Z said.
'Then the plan didn't work,' I said.
'Then what?' Z said.
'We find another way to outwit them,' I said.
60
THE FLOOR OF THE WAREHOUSE was concrete. There was no insulation in any of the exterior walls. The hard rain on the roof sounded through the whole building like a drum.
It took a half-hour, but the plan kicked in. There was just a hint of movement in the lesser darkness of the entrance.
'See that?' I murmured.
Z said, 'Yes.'
Then the electric purr of Stephano's voice cut through the blackness and the drumming of the rain.
'You can run, Spenser,' he said. 'But you can't hide.'
'He thinks we're trying to hide?' Z said softly.
'Yes,' I whispered.
'Isn't even a little afraid we might have set him up?' Z whispered.
'Too arrogant,' I whispered. 'And probably too eager. It's like he was dating us and we led him into the bedroom.'
'And he's too hot to think,' Z whispered.
'Be my guess,' I whispered.
'Been there,' Z whispered.
I smiled in the darkness.
'Most of us have,' I whispered.
'You coming out of your hole, Tough Guy?' Stephano purred. 'Or I gotta drag you out, squealing, by the tail.'
'How come all the talk?' Z whispered.
'I had to guess,' I whispered, 'I'd guess he's attracting our attention while his people sneak around and try to find us.'
'Maybe I'll sneak back at them,' Z whispered. 'Crees are great night fighters.'
'I thought they didn't fight at night because if they were killed in the dark they wouldn't reach the happy hunting grounds?'
'What movie you see that in?' Z whispered.
'Can't remember,' I whispered. 'But Gene Autry was the star.'
'He should know,' Z whispered.
'I'll work left,' I whispered. 'You go right. We'll try to come in on each side of Stephano. Whichever of us gets
