Johnny Shaw turns on the TV to find the Braves game. Wilson, who Ethan had kept trapped in the bathroom, escapes and ends up running around happily and barking with excitement, getting underneath everyone’s feet. In the middle of the mayhem, my cell phone vibrates in my back pocket. Caller ID says Unlisted. Could be Ellie Mangum following up about the Asturias family. I forgot to get a new burner phone. It’s too loud in the house, so I step out onto the front porch, closing the door to keep Wilson from following me. “Hello?”

“Hi, Suzie Q.”

An icy ball forms in the pit of my stomach. “What do you want?”

“So many things,” Finn says. His voice is soft, almost a croon. “I’ll settle for you.”

I knew I should have dropped this phone for another one. “No chance in hell.”

“I don’t mean like that,” Finn says. “Although you’re attractive, that’s not what I like about you.”

“Must be my winning personality.”

“It’s your drive.” He says the word the way an evangelical says Jesus. “You don’t ever stop. You’re like a shark, you have to keep moving or you die.”

“Don’t call me again. And if I see you, you’ll wake up in whatever hell is waiting for you.”

“Before I let you go,” Finn says in that damn crooning voice, “take a look at the side of the front porch.”

Cell to my ear, I turn to look at the front porch. It’s a tiny square block of concrete with steps up the front, enough room for maybe two people to stand on the landing by the front door.

Something is blinking on the right side of the porch, behind a small dogwood bush.

When I get closer, I see a block of what looks like orange cheese duct-taped to the side of the porch, with a countdown timer attached to it. The timer reads 49, 48, 47 …

“That timer hits zero, there’s going to be a rather impressive boom,” Finn says.

Is Finn watching me right now? No, focus, Suzie. Take care of the giant bomb he’s taped to your brother’s house. There’s a detonator the size of a pen stuck into the plastic explosive, and the detonator is attached to the timer by two wires. When the detonator reaches zero, it will send an electric current down the wire to the detonator, which will explode in the Semtex and set off a much larger explosion. Everyone in or near the house would die.

“Two wires,” Finn says, almost sing-songy. “Which one should Suzie try to cut? Assuming she has pliers, of course.”

I pull out a Leatherman tool from one of my pockets and open the needle-nose pliers, then hesitate, looking at the wires. 40, 39, 38 … One wire is black, one white. Cut the wrong one? Boom. Cut both? Boom.

“There’s another option,” Finn says.

“What?” 35, 34 …