“I’m not harassing you or anyone else,” Amarok said. “Just trying to save the life of the woman who’s supposed to become my wife—and the life of our child. Evelyn’s six months pregnant.”

Bridget flinched at his mention of the baby but lifted her chin to a defiant angle only a second after. “Another detective already came by. He asked me and everyone else about the man in that blurry picture.”

Some of the people Amarok had talked to so far had indicated the same thing, but others seemed totally unaware of the case, which just went to prove that Lewis hadn’t been as dogged as Amarok. “If you know something, and you can save me the time and trouble of tracking down all your friends and relatives, I’d be extremely grateful.”

With a dramatic sigh that suggested she was irritated by his persistence, she grabbed the photo and stared at it. “I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” she said, and handed it back.

Amarok made no reply. He simply accepted the photograph, pivoted and moved on to the house beyond hers.

“No one around here is going to recognize him!” she called out. “If he was a friend of my husband’s, I’m the only one who would know that, and I’m telling you he wasn’t.”

“Then you won’t mind me double-checking.”

“You’re wasting your time. That’s all. What about your fiancée? She needs you to be doing more productive things.”

“I’ll decide what my fiancée needs from me. But thanks for the advice.”

She started jogging to catch up with him and grabbed his arm to stop him. But when he shook her off, she threw up her hands and went back in her own house.

After another two hours spent canvassing the neighborhood, however, Amarok was afraid she was right. No one recognized the man.

He was standing on the corner, staring at the vehicle he’d parked in front of her house, wondering if there wasn’t something better he could be doing with his time, after all, when he got a call on the mobile phone he’d purchased from Walmart as soon as he hit town. It was Detective Lewis.

“Who gave you this number?” he asked as soon as he answered. He hadn’t done it; he’d thought it better if Lewis didn’t know he was in town.

“Phil did. I just tried to call you at your trooper post.”

If Phil had provided him with a way to contact Amarok, there had to be a compelling reason. “Do you have something?”

“I do, and I’d tell you what if I wasn’t so pissed off,” he said. “What are you doing in Minneapolis?”

“I’m tracking down the man who kidnapped my fiancée.”

“Nothing I’ve said or done has convinced you that I’m doing my job?”

Lewis sounded put out, but Amarok didn’t care. The detective wasn’t as driven as Amarok was, wasn’t as desperate to bring Evelyn home, and Amarok never completely trusted anyone else to do the things that were most important to him. “Don’t be offended. I wouldn’t trust anyone. This is Evelyn we’re talking about.”