Del ran to the window. “It’s Charlie and . . . Chris!” He ran to the door and out onto the porch just as the two men were climbing from the patrol car parked half on the curb and half off. “Chris! There’s something in the backyard!”

Stiles flew up the walk with long strides, his face set, the Uzi held close to his side. He was past Delbert in an instant and through the house, jerking open the back door without hesitation. The others hurried to catch up.

They found him standing in the backyard, shining his small flashlight into the shadows where the porch light didn’t reach. There was no one else in sight. Even the neighbors’ unseen pit bull had settled down behind the tall shrubs and was just growling deep in his throat. Stiles walked to the big shade tree near the back of the lot where the tire-swing still turned in slow, dizzy spirals. He reached out and stopped it. “There’s no one here now.” He motioned them all back inside.

Billie was exasperated. “Would someone tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie Bean told her, “but we’re damn sure gonna find out.” He pointed at Stiles, forgetting momentarily that the latter still carried the only guns between them. “You stay right here, mister. You’ve got some talking to do.” Then the deputy went back out to his car to shut off the lights and assure the gathering crowd of neighbors that it was all just a false alarm.

Stiles sighed and hung his head, letting the tension ease from his shoulders and neck. He’d been so afraid . . . He smiled to reassure Billie, reached out for her. “I’m glad you’re okay—” he started, but the words stuck in his throat. Billie was backing away from him. Her eyes were on the Uzi. “Chris?” she stammered as if unsure if he were really there in front of her. “Chris, what’s going on? Why are you carrying a machine gun?”

Bart stood nearby, dancing anxiously as if he had to pee. “Was it him, Mr. Stiles? Was it Danner, do you think?”

Del hugged Stiles’s leg and started to cry. “It talked to me, it tried to get me to let it in. But you said it was over. You said it was over!”

Billie came over and drew Delbert away from him. “What’s he talking about, Chris?” Her tone was losing its surprise and gaining in anger, growing maternal and protective. “Just what is this all about?”

“Yes, Mr. Stiles,” Deputy Bean said from the doorway. He shut the door and locked it. “Tell us what’s going on here, and don’t leave out anything. Understand?”

“Is that a threat, Deputy?”

Bean didn’t flinch. “If that’s what it takes.”