The tattoo needle will apply it to her dead face twice, a black kanji symbol below each dead green eye. The arm that carries the dream will be cut off and discarded before her dead body is tossed into the waste.

Defy us and the father will see all this and worse.

Nimec finished reading it and took a deep breath.

“Those first couple of words in the subject, Meg. You know what they mean?”

“Aria d’entrata. Italian. I think it’s an operatic term for a vocal passage sung when a performer makes an entrance.”

Nimec felt that white-hot spike in his gut again. They were being taunted.

“The tattoo . . .”

“Julia told me she was going to have it done,” Megan said. “It must have been the last time she stopped by the office. A month ago. Maybe more. I’m not even sure Gord knows about it yet. She made me promise to stay mum, wanted to spring it on him in person. You know how she likes to get a rise out of him, Pete—”

“Meg—”

“Yes?”

“Listen to me,” he said. “The description’s to confirm this e-mail isn’t a hoax from somebody who might’ve found out what’s happened through a leak. Something of that nature.”

“There’s a lot of information,” Megan said. “The reference to the color of Julia’s eyes. Also that part about the jogging. Her greyhounds. Even her schedule.”

“She’s been watched.”

“Yes.” Megan took an audible breath. “Pete, what do you think whoever’s behind this is after? If she’s being held for a ransom, what sort of announcement can they want?”

“Wish I could give you an answer. All I know is somebody likes playing games. You can feel the spite here.”

“Yes.”

Nimec thought aloud. “The boss might have some ideas. He has to see the e-mail. I’ve got to show it to him right away.”

“I don’t know how he’ll manage to handle everything. It’s so much at once.”

Nimec was quiet. He felt the vast spread of distance between them.

“Ricci up to snuff?” he asked after a moment.

“He’s at the rescue center now. With Rollie. I haven’t contacted him about the message.”

“Better do it in a hurry,” Nimec said. He thought some more. “We need to rely on him, Meg.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“You’ve got no choice. If there are any solid leads, Ricci’s the one to find them. He’s the one, Meg.”

Silence.

“I know,” she said. “But knowing it doesn’t give me much comfort.”

Nimec stared out the chopper’s canopy into the rushing blackness of night.

“Sometimes,” he said, “we can only go with what we have.”

As far as his statement to Ricci went, Erickson had been candid: There wasn’t much of anything helpful to be found outside in the way of evidence.

Not on the grounds per se.