“Victor,” Darlene said, her voice strained, “I need to make a call. I’ll be in my booth. I’ll be right back, ladies. This would be a good time to have the waiter bring your food.”

Back at her booth, she retrieved the cell phone Double M had given her, accessed the preentered contact number, and then pressed Send.

Double M answered on the second ring. “You found her?” he asked excitedly.

“She’s dead,” Darlene said softly, close to tears over the hardness of the world for so many like Sylvia Winger. “We may be at a dead end, ourselves. My husband has forbidden me to discuss the Russ Evans case with him or even to mention his name. I believe you when you say the risk involved if we can’t get Russ Evans back to work is substantial, but without the girl’s testimony, there’s nothing I can do to help.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Double M said. “I think I have another idea.”

Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

Cap pulled off the road and onto the gravel shoulder about a mile from the Kings Ridge police station. The heavy sense of loss among them had taken over. George, who had done a remarkable job of maintaining his composure, stumbled out of the car, dropped to his knees, and pounded the ground, sobbing. Then he vomited. Afterwards, he washed out his mouth from a bottle of water that Lou had accepted from William Chester, and cried some more.

“They shot him,” he sobbed. “They fuckin’ shot him, and now Notso’s gone forever.”

Lou crouched down and set a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. Then he helped him back to the Prizm.

“We don’t know for sure that he’s gone,” Lou said. “Maybe they took him somewhere. He could be a prisoner—a hostage.”

“Who’s they?” George shouted.

“Well, if you believe Chester, it’s somebody who doesn’t work for him.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe Chester at all,” George said. “That guy’s a liar. He wouldn’t last five minutes on the street without all that money to protect him. People would see through him in a second.”

Daybreak was approaching. Scudding clouds concealed the bright moonlight. Only the drone of nighttime insects broke the otherwise heavy silence.

Lou thought about his own family. He and Graham were not that close—certainly not the kind of friends George and his cousin Notso were. He wondered how he would react if Graham had violently died. He would certainly demand answers and would likely stop at nothing to get them. Lou and George might have come from different worlds, but for them at least, the language of family was a constant.