I nodded, trying to register crime scene facts and to comprehend their meaning. “1 want to look again anyway. I need to look for myself. What about Flaherty?” I suddenly thought to ask.

“The state police have him for now. He showed them he was CIA. I don't know what happens next. I don't think they can hold him.”

Chapter 146

WE SEARCHED THE house and a nearby work shed, and a barn-until first light of day.

Then we began to comb the surrounding grounds. At this point there were more than thirty police officers and FBI agents searching at the scene, but it still didn't seem like enough manpower to me.

Everything was feeling even more unreal now. I was here, but I wasn't. I had no idea about the passage of time either; it seemed as if I could have been at the farm for a couple of days or for just a few minutes.

Proof of life, I thought. That's what I want, isn't it? And if not that, then proof of death.

We found a Nissan minivan that had to be the vehicle the Tiger and his killer thugs had come to the farm in. The van held small arms, clothing, and video games in cardboard boxes.

But there was no sign of blood inside, no rope to tie anyone up with. Nothing to make us believe Nana or the kids had been inside the vehicle.

There were more tire tracks up near the house, but nothing seemed unusual. Judging from the look of the place, I figured it hadn't been a working farm for at least a couple of years. Town records showed that it belonged to a Leopoldo Gout, but we hadn't been able to contact the owner yet. Who was Leopoldo Gout? What did he know about what had happened here?

Finally, at around four that afternoon, Bree walked me to my car. Then she drove me home to Fifth Street. I was in no shape to continue looking, she said, and she was right.

I hoped against hope for a good ending, but there was no one there at the house. The mess in the kitchen remained as I had found it, and I left it just that way.

For memories' sake.

Nana's kitchen. Her favorite place to be.

Chapter 147

IT WAS ALL so baffling, so incomprehensible, wrong in so many ways.

Bree and I brainstormed for a while, but I couldn't concentrate. My thinking was too chaotic; I was too crazy in the head, too disturbed and lost. 1 didn't want to talk, didn't want to eat, and I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even keep my eyes shut the one time I lay down on the living room couch. I thought about taking a drive, then decided no, not right now.

“I'm going to go for a run,” I finally told Bree. “Clear my head. There has to be something I'm missing.”

“Okay, Alex. I'll be here. Have a good run.”