“. . . domestic enemies to consider as well as foreign ones. Imagine if a militia group, for example . . .”

When a popular radio psychologist suggested that Cornelia Case might have experienced a nervous breakdown because of her sorrow over the President’s death, Mat flipped off the radio. Idiots. It was a lot easier speculating about a story than it was doing the legwork to get at the truth.

But who was he to cast stones? Not long ago, he’d spent three days following a transvestite with a camera crew. He had too many of the same sins on his own conscience to criticize the way other journalists sensationalized the news.

The morning slipped by, and as the passenger seat next to him remained empty except for occasional visits from Lucy trying to talk him into making unnecessary stops, he realized Nell was deliberately avoiding him. Maybe it was better that way. He wouldn’t be so distracted. Still, as they approached Indiana’s western border, he realized how much he missed her cheerful running travelogue.

Those cloud formations remind me of a circus parade.

Who do you think is funding that recycling center?

What a pretty town! They have a blueberry festival. Let’s go!

Wildflowers! We have to stop!

And at least every other hour . . . Let’s see where that road goes.

Even though he missed her enthusiasm, he was still surprised when he heard himself say, “Anybody for a picnic?”

“Yes!” Nell exclaimed.

“I guess.” Lucy tried to hide her enthusiasm but couldn’t quite manage it, and half an hour later, he was parking in front of a Vincennes, Indiana, Kroger grocery store. He picked up Button and followed Nell and Lucy inside.

“William Henry Harrison lived right here in Vincennes,” Nell said. “He was the ninth president of the United States, but he died in office a month after he was inaugurated.”

He told himself it was information anyone could know. The fact that Vincennes was Harrison’s home had been printed on one of the signs as they were coming into town.

Nell headed for the produce department, still chatting about William Henry Harrison and his successor, John Tyler. He watched her happily examining a display of blueberries, then admiring cartons of strawberries as if she’d never seen them before. This whole grocery store thing was way too domestic for him, and he started feeling claustrophobic. The feeling got worse when the Demon sighed and tucked her head under his chin. “Daaa . . .”

“Take her, Lucy. I’ve got to go buy some . . . some . . . guy stuff.”

“EEOOWWW!”

“Never mind,” he sighed. “I’ll take her with me.”

They left Vincennes and almost immediately crossed the border into Illinois. Nell hummed as she stood at the counter, swaying with the motion of the Winnebago while she made sandwiches. She looked so happy that he was glad he’d come up with the idea of having a picnic.