“Excuse me.”

The dog turned, the jogger did not.

“Excuse me,” I shouted, inching forward.

The dog cut to the car, nearly tripping its owner. She stopped, dropped the headphones around her neck, and regarded me warily.

The dog placed front paws on my door and sniffed. I reached out and patted its head.

The jogger appeared to relax a bit.

“Do you know Mrs. Cobb?” I asked, the calm in my voice belying my agitation.

“Uh-huh,” she panted.

“While we were visiting, something was left on my windshield. I wondered if you’d noticed any other cars near her trailer.”

“Actual y, I did. That road is a dead end, so it doesn’t get much traffic.” She pointed a finger at the dog, then at the ground. “Gary, get down.” Gary?

“It was a Ford Explorer, black. Man at the wheel. Not very tal . Good hair. Sunglasses.”

“Black hair?”

“Lots of it.” She giggled. “My husband is bald.Balding,he’d say. I notice hair on men. Anyway, the Explorer was just parked there opposite Mrs. Cobb’s driveway. I didn’t recognize the car, but it had a South Carolina tag.”

The woman cal ed to Gary. Gary dropped to the pavement, hopped back up against my side panel.

“Is Mrs. Cobb doing al right? I try, but I don’t get over to her place very often.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate company,” I said, my thoughts on a black-haired stranger.

“Yeah.”

Tugging Gary from my door, the woman repositioned her headphones and resumed her jog.

I sat a moment, debating my next move. Talking myself down.

Lancaster and Columbia.

Short with black hair.Goodblack hair.

That described Wal y Cagle’s coffee partner.

That described Palmer Cousins.

That described a mil ion men in America.

Did it describe the Grim Reaper?

What the hel was going on?

Calm down.

I took a deep breath and tried Katy’s cel phone.

No answer. I left a message on her voice mail.

Lancaster and Columbia.

I phoned Lawrence Looper to check on Wal y Cagle.

Answering machine. Message.

I phoned Dolores at the USC anthropology department.

Wonderful news. Wal y Cagle was coming around. No, he was not yet coherent. No, he’d had no other visitors at the university.

I thanked her and hung up.

What would another trip to Columbia accomplish? Spook Looper? Spook Palmer Cousins? Locate Katy? Thoroughly piss off Katy for trying to locate her? Thoroughly piss off Skinny Slidel ?

A trip to Lancaster?

Clover was halfway there.

Wouldn’t piss off Katy.

Skinny would get over it.

Cagle wasn’t coherent yet, anyway.

I headed south on 321, then east on 9, eyes constantly clicking to the rearview mirror. Twice I spotted what I thought were black Explorers. Twice I slowed.

Twice the vehicles passed me. Though outwardly composed, the chil stayed with me.

Five miles out of Lancaster, I phoned Terry Woolsey at the sheriff ’s department.