Since Bill was a more enthusiastic runner than she was, Lucy didn’t expect him back for a while. After her shower she settled down to stitch together the pieces of the sweater she had knitted for him. The girls were happy in their room playing with their Barbie dolls and Toby curled up in a corner of the couch with his book report book. It was only when she noticed the light getting dim and reached to switch on the lamp that she realized how late it was. According to the old Regulator, it was almost four, which meant that Bill had been gone for nearly three hours.

Lucy tried to fight her rising sense of panic. Something must be wrong; he could have—indeed he had—run the Boston marathon in that time. She didn’t think he would have attempted anything so ambitious today. He knew she had to leave at five to pick up her mother at the airport.

Something must have happened to him, she thought. But what? He was a big strong man in his prime. Of course, Sam Miller had been in his prime, too, and someone had managed to kill him. She knew she was being ridiculous. No one wanted to kill Bill. But when she switched on the porch light and stood looking out the door, she couldn’t help remembering Patches’ lifeless body lying in the driveway. It was getting too dark to wait any longer, she decided. She would have to take out the Subaru and look for him. She piled the kids into the car and slowly and carefully drove along the rutted, twisted dirt road. Running along these roads was one thing; it was quite another to drive them at night, even in a four-wheel-drive. The woods were gloomy, filled with dark, shadowy shapes, and the branches brushed and snapped against the car.

Lucy gripped the steering wheel in clenched hands, her neck and shoulders rigid with anxiety as she searched for him. When she finally saw his familiar figure in the road, the tension drained from her body, leaving her with a terrific headache and aching muscles.

Bill was moving slowly, however, and as he came closer, Lucy could see he was limping.

“What happened?” she asked as he climbed into the car.

“I must have pulled a muscle or something. God, my knee hurts.”

“Do you need a doctor?”

“No, I’ll put some ice on it when I get home. How late is it? Don’t you have to get to the airport?”

Lucy checked her watch. “It’s almost five. I’ll drop you at the house and get the kids something to eat on the way. McDonald’s okay, kids?”