“Most likely my neighbor, like you said.”

“But this isn’t hunting season, is it?”

“No, but if someone is having coyote problems, or woodchuck problems, or possum problems, or porcupine problems, the season doesn’t matter.”

“A second ago you said there probably would be nothing to worry about tonight. When are you thinking there will be something to worry about?”

Gurney hadn’t intended to do this, but explaining the whole situation seemed now to be the only honest approach. “It’s a complicated story. Have a seat.”

They sat together on the den couch and Gurney spent the next twenty minutes filling Kyle in on the parts of the Spalter case background he wasn’t yet aware of, the current status of things, and the plan being launched the following day.

As he listened, Kyle’s expression grew confused. “Wait a second. What do you mean when you say that RAM-TV is going to run these program announcements starting tomorrow morning?”

“Just that. Starting with the Sunday-morning talk shows, and running through the day.”

“You mean the announcements saying that you’re going to be making big revelations about the case and about the shooter?”

“Right.”

“They’re supposed to run tomorrow?”

“Yes. Why are you—”

“You don’t know? You don’t know that those announcements started running yesterday afternoon? And that they’ve been running all day today?”

“What?”

“The announcements you’re describing—they’ve been on RAM-TV for at least the past twenty-four hours.”

“How do you know this?”

“Kim has her friggin’ TV on all the time. Jeez, I didn’t realize … I’m sorry … I didn’t know it wasn’t supposed to be happening. I should’ve called you.”

“There’s no way you could have known.” Gurney felt sick, absorbing the shock, thinking his way through the implications.

Then he called Hardwick and told him what he’d just learned.

Hardwick, still stuck in his traffic jam, made a sound between gagging and growling. “Yesterday? They started running the fucking thing yesterday?”

“Yesterday, and last night, and all day today.”

“That fucking Bork! That scum-sucking fuck! That rotten piece of shit! I’ll tear that putrid little fucker’s head off and shove it up his ass!”

“Sounds good to me, Jack, but we need to deal with a few practical issues first.”

“I told that little Bork bastard that the timing of the plan was crucial—that people’s lives were at stake—that the timing was a fucking life-or-death issue! I made that perfectly clear to that shit-eating slimebag!”

“Glad to hear it. But right now we need to make some adjustments in the plan.”

“First thing you need to do is adjust yourself the fuck out of there. Go! Like, now!”

“I agree the situation requires urgent action. But before we jump overboard—”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! Or at least do what Esti wanted to do from the start—call in the fucking cavalry!”