Stride braked at the sharp curve on the far side of the bridge and then flew past the block-long town of Oliver onto the lonely highway leading into Superior. Through the sheeting water on his windshield, he saw miles of birch trees growing parallel to the two-lane road. Cattails swayed in the ditch like spinning toys. He drove through a long stretch of nothingness before arriving at the southernmost end of the city. It was one in the morning. Superior was dead. Silver rain blew diagonally through the glow of streetlights.

He followed the chain of streets until he was at the end of the developed land near Finn Mathisen’s house, which was ablaze with light. A squad car from the Superior police was parked out front.

Stride pulled up behind the police car, and he and Maggie both got out. A blond policewoman with matted wet hair jogged from the porch to meet them. The three of them shook hands while the rain pricked at them like needles.

“Lynn Ristau, Superior police,” the woman said. She wasn’t tall but had a tough, strong physique that would make larger men think twice before messing with her.

“I’m Lieutenant Stride. This is Senior Sergeant Maggie Bei.”

“You guys from Duluth know how to pick the right weather for losing suspects,” Ristau said with a smile.

“Any hits on the ATL?” Stride asked.

Ristau shook her head. Water sprayed from her blond hair. “Nobody’s spotted your guy.”

“Did you talk to the woman inside?”

“Yeah, but she’s not saying much. She says she didn’t know that her brother had left the house until I knocked on her door. She has no idea where he went.”

“All right, we’ll see if we can pry anything else out of her,” Stride said. “Can you hang out and keep us posted? We may need some help.”

“You bet.”

Stride and Maggie climbed the front porch and passed through a curtain of water streaming from the roof. Rikke yanked open the door before they could ring the bell. She wore a yellow cotton robe that draped to her ankles, and her face was pinched into a frown.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

“May we come in?” Stride asked.

Silently, the tall, husky woman stood aside. Stride and Maggie shook off as much as water as they could and entered the house, where they dripped on the throw rug. The walls shook as gusts of wind assaulted the frame from the west. Rikke closed the door behind them and folded her arms.

“Well?” she asked.

Stride studied the empty living room. Rikke had been sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in a china mug. “Where is Finn?”

“I have no idea. You didn’t answer my question. What is going on?”

“We think someone may be hunting for Finn.”

“Who?”

“It’s the man whose daughter died in the river.”

Rikke paled and turned away. “That’s ridiculous.”

“We know Finn was at the river that day,” Maggie told her. “He was stalking that girl. She drowned because of him.”