But I didn’t expect it to be Roger Simpson, either. Alarm bells all over.

Ronnie Simpson.

Roger and Ronnie.

Imagine that. One employed by Silvina, the other by Vilcapampa Senior. Too much of a coincidence.

I took a closer look at everything.

Why a Bible? I wouldn’t have thought of Hillman—Roger—as a religious man. At least, he’d exhibited few religious tendencies while I was in his care.

I looked at the numbers on the car insurance card again. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

It wasn’t. I turned to page 381 of the Bible. Nothing. Examined the page with my flashlight. Still nothing. But holding that thin sheet to the light revealed a mark of some kind on the other side. Even a light pencil stroke left an impression.

I turned the page. And there it was. A number of verse underlined. The numbers 1 and 7.

I felt a sudden lurching dislocation. Quickly, I turned not to page 552 but page 553. Two more numbers underlined: 5 and 2.

1752.

Could it be a historical date? Safe combination? No.

5712.

I don’t remember dropping the Bible, just the slap-thud as it hit the wooden floor.

5712 Orchard Road.

Like a bomb had gone off.

The place I’d lived for so long. The family farm.

I looked over at the eyeless salamander on the kitchen counter, as if it could help me.

17 52.

The only explanation I could think of: when Hillman had found the salamander and pried out its eyes, he’d found the address of the place I’d left behind so long ago. He’d known it was important. He just didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know it was about my past. But knew enough to hide it. For Ronnie’s sake?

I tried to imagine their conversations as their paths took them farther and farther apart: Ronnie working for Silvina, Roger the heavy for Vilcapampa. Had they been talking the whole time? How had this looked at family reunions? Arguments? Or had they worked out a truce? Closer, yet no closer. Silvina’s secret like stolen Nazi gold: everyone was after it.

It struck me that maybe “Roger” had been playing both sides. Had Vilcapampa sent him down the coast to kill me or had he come on his own mission, spurred on by Ronnie?

There was nothing in the Hillman-Jane interrogation that I could recall that knocked loose an answer. He had probably just come to kill me, no matter what he owed his sister.

I couldn’t lose myself in the wilderness. Because Silvina didn’t want that. So I couldn’t want that.

Silvina wanted me to go home.

A place I hadn’t been in more than twenty years.