I sat back down in the wobbly little chair. I don’t think I can, Debs. I don’t really have much of a feel for what he’s doing.

Bullshit, she said.

Seriously. I mean, technically speaking, he hasn’t actually killed anybody, you know.

Dexter, she said, you already understand more about this guy than Kyle did, and he knows who it is. We’ve got to find him. We’ve GOT to. She bit her lower lip, and I was afraid she would start blubbering again, which would have left me totally helpless since she had already told me I couldn’t say There there again. But she pulled it together like the tough sergeant sister she was and merely blew her nose again.

I’ll try, Deb. Can I assume that you and Kyle have done all the basic work? Talked to witnesses and so on?

She shook her head. We didn’t need to. Kyle knew— She paused at that past tense, and then went on, very determined. Kyle KNOWS who did it, and he KNOWS who should be next.

Excuse me. He knows who’s next?

Deborah frowned. Don’t sound like that. Kyle said there are four guys in Miami who are on the list. One of them is missing, Kyle figured he was already taken, but that gave us a little time to set up surveillance on the other three.

Who are these four guys, Deborah? And how does Kyle know them?

She sighed. Kyle didn’t tell me their names. But they were all part of a team of some kind. In El Salvador. Along with this . . . Dr. Danco guy. So— She spread her hands and looked helpless, a new look for her. And although it gave her a certain little-girl charm, the only thing it did for me was to make me feel even more put-upon. The whole world goes spinning merrily along, getting itself into the most God-awful trouble, and then it’s all up to Dashing Dexter to tidy things up again. It didn’t seem fair, but what can you do?

More to the point—what could I do now? I didn’t see any way to find Kyle before it was too late. And although I am fairly sure I didn’t say that out loud, Deborah reacted as if I had. She slapped one hand on the table and said, We have to find him before he starts on Kyle. Before he even STARTS, Dexter. Because—I mean, am I supposed to hope Kyle will only lose an arm before we get there? Or a leg? Either way, Kyle is . . . She turned away without finishing, looking out into the darkness through the French doors by the little table.