Bonar's fingers froze over the buttons. 'That doesn't sound like Sharon. That woman would be ten minutes early for her own execution.'
'Apparently, it doesn't sound like Grace or Annie, either. Harley Davidson already called Green Bay a while ago, all hot and bothered.'
Bonar pushed the disconnect button and just stood there a moment, lips pushed out almost as far as his gut, his thick brows coming down like a couple of furry blinds. 'Do you have Davidson's number? Maybe Grace checked in with him since then. They're a pretty tight crew.'
'No. But Magozzi can probably reach him.' Halloran picked up the phone, thinking he hadn't made this many calls to the Minneapolis detective since the Monkeewrench case. Something about that gave him a bad feeling.
WHEN MAGOZZI saw the Wisconsin area code on his caller ID, he nearly put his thumb through the talk button answering it. He was more than a little disappointed to hear Halloran's voice on the other end instead of Grace's, but it was a call he was about to make himself anyhow-the Sheriff had just beat him to the punch.
When he hung up ten minutes later, he felt like an injured deer in a pack of wolves. Roadrunner and Harley had mobbed him during the conversation, straining to hear what Halloran was saying. He caught beer breath from Harley on one side and lime breath from Roadrunner on the other, which seemed peculiar, although nothing really surprised Magozzi anymore when it came to the odd man-child with the mind of a super-computer. For all he knew, the guy subsisted on an all-citrus diet. Gino was taking it all in from a big leather office chair, with Charlie at his feet, head lifted in rapt attention. It was the perfect portrait of a country gentleman and his loyal dog, sans the smoking jacket and hunt prints.
'Okay, Halloran just got off the phone with Green Bay before he called me, and they're still not there. But you probably already figured that out.'
'Yeah, yeah, yeah,' Harley said impatiently. 'Jump to the good part where you asked if he could help us out and then you were really quiet for a long time.'
'He's going to do what he can.'
'Which is?' Roadrunner asked.
'He'll get out a statewide APB on the Rover ASAP, plus he's going to make some personal calls to the counties they'd drive through and ask for some extra pairs of eyes out on the roads looking. I guess they have a pretty tight Sheriffs' Association over there, and according to him, they all owe him favors.' He stood up slowly, as if he didn't completely trust the ability of his legs to hold him, and looked at Gino. 'You want to come along?'
'Give me a sec.' Gino patted Charlie on the head, then pulled out his cell phone and pushed a single button. 'Hey, Angela . . . Jesus, what's that noise? Oh, yeah? Well, it doesn't surprise me. I had that kid pegged as Satan's spawn years ago. Listen, the thing is, I'm probably not going to make it home tonight. You know that strip bar near Marshfield you never let me stop at? Hell, no, we're not going to bust them, we just want to watch, maybe get a lap dance or two. ... Of course we'll be careful, don't worry, Magozzi told me all the women are behind glass.' Gino clicked off, ruffled Charlie's ears one last time, then pushed himself up out of the chair.
Roadrunner and Harley were staring at him. 'You're going to a strip club inMarshfield?' Harley asked.
Gino rolled his eyes. 'Christ, of course not. We're going to Wisconsin to find the ladies.'
'Just like that?'
'Just like that.'
Magozzi was already halfway to the door when Gino caught up to him. 'I'm probably jumping the gun here, Gino.'
'Probably.'
'You talked to Angela earlier, right?'
'Yep. Called her after Roadrunner told me what was going on. Figured you'd want to head over there.'
'What'd she say?'
'She wanted to know why we hadn't left yet.'
Magozzi smiled. 'I love Angela.'
'Me, too.'
'We don't even know which road they took.'
Gino shrugged. 'We're detectives. We'll figure it out.'
Roadrunner and Harley were right behind them before they got to the elevator. 'We can all go together in the rig,' Harley said.
'Actually, we'll need the radio in the unmarked-' Gino started to say.
Harley slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder and nearly knocked him down. 'My friend, we got more communications in that rig than you've seen in your life, police band and any other band you can think of. You can call the goddamn space station if you want.'
Gino raised his brows. 'No shit?'
'No shit. Besides, the computers might come in handy.'
Having all of them in the elevator at the same time was tight, and Gino looked worried. 'You got a payload limit on this thing?'
'Damned if I know,' Harley replied, and pushed the down button.
TWILIGHT HAD LEACHED the color from the town of Four Corners. It lay silent and still in the deepening shadows, like an old black-and-white photograph. The street was empty, the buildings were starting to disappear into their own darkness, and the silence was total.
Inside the little house behind the cafe, Annie turned the bathroom faucet a fraction of an inch and washed her hands under a trickle of water. They had to be careful, Grace had said. The pump had already kicked in once when they'd washed their hands after handling the dead dog, and the noise had sounded like an explosion in the unnatural quiet. If they used too much water, it could happen again. Annie frowned, remembering the long list of things Grace had warned them to be wary of-things Annie wouldn't have thought of in a million years.
She bent her head over the sink and pressed some cool water against her eyes. Damnit. After more than ten years of full-blown paranoia, every sense on high alert at all times, Grace had started to get a little better. Closing the books on the Atlanta horror had helped, so had her relationship with Magozzi, but all that progress had been erased in a few hours, as if it hadn't happened. The old Grace had settled in for another long stay.
It was almost fully dark already-time for them to leave the house-and they were each taking a turn in the bathroom while the other two watched the windows, front and back.But don't flush. Anddon't use the toilet paper roll. It's wooden and loose and might clatter. Take some sheets off the fresh roll on the back of the can.
Even Sharon had raised her brows at the thought process that pulled that little detail out of the murky realm of possibility. Grace wasn't leaving anything to chance anymore.
Annie could barely see herself in the tiny medicine-chest mirror, and she decided that was a good thing. She'd caught a glimpse earlier, before the woods had swallowed the sun, and had barely recognized her own reflection. It wasn't the grime on her face or the running mascara or even the disheveled hair, as much as that distressed her. What Annie had inside could shine through all things superficial- but there was something in her eyes that made her look like a stranger, something she hadn't seen there since her seventeenth birthday, on the night she'd discovered what knives could do.
When she was finished in the bathroom, she went to stand next to Sharon at the kitchen window. She wrinkled her nose at the faint odor coming from the pilot lights of the old-fashioned gas stove. 'Your turn,' she murmured.
Sharon nodded absently, still staring at the dark backyard and the black woods beyond. She looked a little brittle to Annie. 'How long have we been in here?'
'About forty minutes. Too long, according to Grace.'
'She's right. It's starting to feel safe.'
'It isn't. Too easy to get trapped in here.'
'I know.' Sharon stepped away from the counter, then stopped and looked down at the old wavy linoleum beneath her feet. 'When I was little-five or six, maybe-our barn caught fire one night, went up so fast there was no time to get the cows out. But the horses had an outside door of their own, always open, so they could run in and out and get away from the bugs. So the timbers were falling and the cows were bawling and starting to cook and you could look through the big open door into where the horses were all bunched together in the smoke and the flames, screaming, kicking at each other, looking right out the door they ran in and out of a hundred times a
