But what if it does kill you? That’s what we should be asking because Carrie isn’t making us stronger. It’s too late. We crossed that divide two years ago when she let us know in the worst way imaginable that she’s still alive. Since then we’re on the side of diminishing returns as she’s chipped away, bled and maimed us while we flail in a state of perpetual sensory deprivation.

We don’t see or hear Carrie. We don’t experience her unless it’s on her terms, and her greatest gift is her implied nonexistence. Saying she did something heinous has become rather much like saying the Devil did. Except I have provable scars from her, and a lot of people have died.

“I’ve been curious about what Benton’s doing.” I sound calm, which isn’t at all how I feel. “He got a call from Washington about the same time Marino called me about this case. How did he seem to you?”

“Hard to tell. I’m pretty sure he was in a car when I reached him,” Lucy says.

“A car? Or his car?” I lean against the countertop across from her. “I’m wondering if he’s with other FBI agents, if something’s happened. He mentioned the terror alert’s been elevated and includes Washington, D.C. And also here, the Boston area.”

“He didn’t offer what he was doing or who he was with,” she says, and in the bright light I can make out the subtle bulge of the pistol beneath the cuff of her right pant leg.

CHAPTER 23

THE HOLSTER IS STRAPPED above her boot.

I can’t tell what she’s carrying but it’s probably her Korth PRS 9mm. There’s no telling what she has in her car, a high-capacity pistol for sure and possibly a lot more firepower than that.

“I don’t know if he was driving or being driven somewhere but his tone made me think he wasn’t alone.” Lucy plants the palms of her hands behind her on the edge of the counter.

Hoisting herself up, she sits, resting her back against a cabinet, her booted feet dangling, the pistol’s black holster peeking out. She folds her strong graceful hands in her lap, and I’m aware of the plain platinum Tiffany wedding band on her left ring finger.

None of us were invited when she and Janet were married in a civil ceremony on the Cape last year after Natalie died. But as Lucy and Janet both explained, they didn’t do it to prove their love and commitment. They didn’t need to prove it to each other or anyone else, they said. They did it because they intend to adopt Desi.

“You called Benton for what reason?” I ask. “And when was this?”

“A little while ago. After I listened to the latest from Tailend Charlie,” she says to my dismay.