Luc struggled to pull himself together. His life seemed to have been drifting into the Abyss these past months, but with this act he felt he’d accelerated into free fall. And yet, despite his growing despair, he could not deny his relief at no longer having Macintosh’s threats hanging over him.

“We’ll bury him deep,” Prather said. “The ground here will be pocked and scarred when we leave Sunday. No one will notice.”

Still speechless, Luc removed a thick envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to him. An oily lock of the big man’s lank dark hair fell over his forehead as he opened the envelope and fanned through the wad of bills. The wan light made his pale skin look cadaverish.

“It’s all there,” Luc said, finding his voice.

“Yes, it appears to be.” He stared down at Luc with his icy blue eyes. “Why didn’t you have Mr. Dragovic take care of this for you?”

Luc stiffened. “Dragovic? What do you mean?”

Prather smiled—thin, thin lips drawing back over yellow teeth. Not a pleasant sight. “Come now, Doctor. I’ve done a little research myself. Didn’t you think I’d be curious as to why you’re so interested in my mystery pet’s blood?”

Luc sagged. He could smell another shakedown coming.

“Not to worry,” Prather said. “I’ve no taste for blackmail. Extortion is so sordid. But I can’t help wonder why you didn’t have your best customer remove this threat to both of you.” His smile broadened. “Unless of course you didn’t want Mr. Dragovic to know you’d left yourself so vulnerable.”

Luc shrugged to mask the bunching of the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Prather had scored a bull’s-eye. The last thing Luc needed was for Milos Dragovic to learn that this pig Macintosh had almost blown the whole business. Dragovic must never even imagine that Luc did not have absolute control of his end.

“Just as well,” Prather said. “The extra money for removing him will help us meet payroll.”

“Business off?” Luc said, trying to steer away from the subject of Milos Dragovic.

Prather nodded. “Bad weather sends people to movies but not to freak shows. And truthfully, some of our attractions become rather… ripe in wet weather.”

In wet weather? Luc thought. How about any weather?

“I’ll take the next sample on May twenty-fifth,” Luc said, paving his way toward the exit. “Where will your troupe be then?”

Prather smiled again. “Virtually in your backyard,

Dr. Monnet. We’ll be in a little Long Island town that is one of our favorite annual stops. We’ll be quite nearly neighbors for a while. Won’t that be special.”

Luc shivered at the thought of living anywhere near Ozymandias Prather and his freaks. “Well, it will be nice to simply hop into a car rather than fight through the airports.”

“See you then, Dr. Monnet.”

Relieved to be leaving, Luc turned and hurried along the dark midway toward the exit.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 24

1

“What did you think?” Gia said.