“This isn’t a decision I can make alone,” Vlad said. “Too many things need to be considered. But I think it would be wise to have some kind of connection between Lakeside, Prairie Gold, and Sweetwater, if for no other reason than our cassandra sangue are seeing visions of a connection. Joe, do you have an e-mail address?”

Joe moved away from the counter, as if the phone had turned into a rattlesnake. “No.”

“I can set one up for him at the library,” Shelley said, sounding so bright her voice was brittle. “Jesse checks her e-mail there too.”

“All right,” Vlad said. “Give me one where I can send information, and then you can send back the information we’ll need. Also provide a couple of phone numbers so that we can reach you quickly if we need to. I’ll make sure Jackson also has the numbers and e-mail addresses.”

“Fair enough.” Jesse gave him her e-mail address and the phone number for her store. “We’ll let you know what train will be carrying the meat.”

“Fine.” A hesitation. “When did the bison die?”

“Around first light; maybe a little earlier,” Joe replied. “Why?”

“And you didn’t call Jackson or say anything to him about the bison?”

“No. Why?”

“Nothing yet. Jesse Walker? With your consent, I’ll send your contact information to Steve Ferryman on Great Island.”

Who was Steve Ferryman? “All right.”

It must have been the correct answer, because Vlad wrapped up the call with a promise to send information. But just before she disconnected the call, he said, “Is there anyplace in your town where travelers can stay?”

“There’s a motel at the edge of town, connected to the truck stop and diner. Most folks who come here are guests of a family and stay with them.”

“Good to know. We’ll be in touch. I’ll tell Simon about the bison meat.” Vlad hung up.

“We should help with the meat.” Joe looked around, turned on his heel, and walked out of the store.

With a nod to her, Tobias turned to follow Joe.

“You be careful, son,” Jesse said.

He looked back at her as he reached for the door. “Always. You do the same.”

Jesse poured another glass of lemonade for herself and Shelley. “When you heard the name Sanguinati, you spooked like cattle in a storm. Why?”

Shelley drank half the glass before replying. “A form of terra indigene that drinks blood. There were rumors around the town where I went to school that the university was a hunting ground for a few of the Sanguinati. No deaths could be linked to them. In fact, a few girls would show off hickies they claimed were a ‘special’ kind of love bite. No one could prove that either. But there were a few young men around the campus who were very good-looking, and I heard they were quite skilled in making a girl feel very, very good.”