People had described Ruben as not very bright. Scarborough. Forex. Tyne. How had she eluded capture this long? Gotten from Saint-Hyacinthe to Edmonton to Yellowknife? Did she even know the law was in pursuit? Surely she did. But was she more worried about Scar?

Had Scar helped Ruben? Had Nellie Snook? Was Ruben hiding in the house on Ragged Ass? Or had she gone elsewhere? A half sibling of whom we knew nothing? A local officer who was perhaps a cousin or other relative?

Ruben’s father was Farley McLeod. Her mother was Micah Lee. Micah was Dene. Did Ruben’s familial network extend to places closed to outsiders?

And what about Horace Tyne? Tyne had worked with Ruben’s father, was at least thirty years her senior. Had his relationship with Ruben been strictly paternal?

Round and round it went. Images. Speculation. Questions. Mostly questions.

I’d just drifted off when the landline rang. Thinking it was Katy, I snatched up the receiver. My eye caught the digits on the bedside clock. Eleven-fifty-five.

“Is this Temperance Brennan?” Soft. Childlike.

“Yes.”

“I need to see you.” Slight accent. It didn’t sound like Binny.

“Who is this?”

The answer sent my heart rate into the stratosphere.

Chapter 25

“I’M IN THE WOODS.”

“What woods?”

“Behind the hotel.”

“OK.”

“Come alone.”

“But I—”

“If someone is with you, I’ll go away.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Five.”

Click.

I shot out of bed. Yanked on the clothes I’d tossed to a chair. Grabbed my jacket. Shoved a flashlight, my room key, and by habit, my cell phone into one pocket. Flew out the door.

Buzzing with adrenaline, I bypassed the elevator, pounded down the stairs, and raced across the lobby. The hotel had to have rear exits; not sure where, I played it safe and slammed out the front door.

The night was cold but not enough for snow. A light rain was slicking the grass underfoot.

As I ran around the building, I considered possibilities. Had Ruben tired of running? Did she want to turn herself in? Or was this a setup to throw me off?

To take me out?

That thought brought me up short.

Was Ruben dangerous? She’d killed her offspring, but could she pose a threat to me? What would that gain her?

I pulled out my iPhone. The thing responded with a bit more enthusiasm but still lacked the juice to allow normal function.

It didn’t matter. I had to get to Ruben.

I stopped again at the garden. Zen and the art of murdering babies. Odd. But that’s what my gray cells sent up.

The moon was a fuzzy sliver, casting soft copies of stacked boulders and dead plants on the wet pebbles below.

I peered into the eerie dusklike dimness ahead. Saw only dark shapes I knew to be pines.