Gurney wanted to keep it going, see where it would lead. “No, I didn’t know any of that. But I’m grateful for the information, Robert. I didn’t realize she was crazy. And that’s the kind of thing that could affect my fee schedule, big-time. Providing security for a crazy woman can be a huge fucking pain in the ass. How crazy would you say she is?”

Meese shook his head. “You’ll find out. I’m not saying another word. You’ll find out. You know where I was this afternoon? At my attorney’s office. We’re taking legal action against that bitch. My advice to you is to stay away from her. Far away.” He slammed the door.

The slam was followed by the sound of two locks snapping in place. It might all be an act, thought Gurney, but it sure as hell was an interesting one.

Chapter 15

Escalation

As Gurney followed the directions of his GPS back toward the interstate, the murky reflection of a fuchsia sunset was spreading across Onondaga Lake. On just about any other upstate body of water, it might have been beautiful. What lurks in the backs of our minds, however, has a profound effect on the way we process the data our optic nerves transmit. Thus what Gurney saw was not a reflected sunset but the imagined hell of a chemical fire burning on the toxic lake bed fifty feet below the surface.

He was aware that remediation efforts were addressing the damage to the lake. But this movement in the right direction made little difference in how he saw the place. In an odd way, it made it worse. Like seeing a guy coming out of an AA meeting makes his problem look more serious than seeing him coming out of a bar.

A few minutes after he got on I-81, Gurney’s phone rang. The ID was from his home landline. He glanced at the time. It was 6:58 P.M. Madeleine would have been home from her part-time job at the clinic for at least three-quarters of an hour. He felt a little stab of guilt.

“Hi, sorry, I should have called,” he said quickly.

“Where are you?” She sounded more concerned than annoyed.

“Between Syracuse and Binghamton. I should be home a bit after eight.”

“You were with that Clinter fellow that long?”

“With him, with Jack Hardwick on the phone, in my car with case documents Hardwick e-mailed me, with Kim Corazon’s ex-boyfriend, et cetera, et cetera.”

“The stalker?”

“I’m not sure what he is. For that matter I’m not sure what Clinter is either.”

“What you told me last night made him sound dangerously unstable.”

“Yeah, well, he might be. Then again …”

“You’d better pay attention to—”