He listened again for a moment before interrupting with just a trace of impatience. "No," he said. "No delays. Have the Watcher bring him to me. It's time." The old man hung up the telephone and stood for a moment. Then he picked up the knife again, and an expression grew on his smooth old face.

It was almost a smile.
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The wind and the rain were gusting fiercely but only occasionally, and most of Miami was already off the roads and filling out insurance claim forms for the damage they planned to have, so the traffic was not bad. One very intense blast of wind nearly pushed us off the expressway, but other than that it was a quick trip.

Deborah was waiting for us at the front desk. "Come to my office," she said, "and tell me what you know." We followed her to the elevator and went up.

"Office" was a bit of an exaggeration for the place where Deborah worked. It was a cubicle in a room with several others just like it. Crammed into the space was a desk and chair and two folding chairs for guests, and we settled in. "All right," she said. "What happened?"

"They…I sent them out into the yard," Rita said. "To get all their toys and things. For the hurricane." Deborah nodded. "And then?" she prompted.

"I went in to put away the hurricane supplies," she said. "And when I came out they were gone. I didn't-it was only a couple of minutes, and they…" Rita put her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Did you see anyone approach them?" Deborah asked. "Any strange cars in the neighborhood? Anything at all?" Rita shook her head. "No, nothing, they were just gone."

Deborah looked at me. "What the hell, Dexter," she said. "That's it? The whole story? How do you know they're not playing Nintendo next door?" "Come on, Deborah," I said. "If you're too tired to work, tell us now. Otherwise, stop the crap. You know as well as I do-" "I don't know anything like it, and neither do you," she snapped.

"Then you haven't been paying attention," I said, and I found that my tone was sharpening to match hers, which was a bit of a surprise. Emotion? Me? "That business card he left with Cody tells us everything we need to know."

"Except where, why, and who," she snarled. "And I'm still waiting to hear some hints about that."

Even though I was perfectly prepared to snarl right back at her, there was really nothing to snarl. She was right. Just because Cody and Astor were missing, that didn't mean we suddenly had new information that would lead us to our killer. It only meant that the stakes were considerably higher, and that we were out of time.

"What about Wilkins?" I demanded. She waved a hand. "They're watching him," she said. "Like last time?"