“It sounds to me like we’re about to do what we want Panikos to do—panic and make a mistake.”

“Look, I admire all this cool-under-pressure shit, but it’s time to admit that the plan is fucked, toss in the cards, and leave the table.”

“Where are you?”

“What?”

“Where are you, exactly?”

“Where am I? I’m still in Pennsylvania, maybe thirty miles from Hancock. What the hell difference does it make where I am?”

“I don’t know yet. I just want to give this whole thing a little more thought before I go screaming down the hill.”

“Davey, for Christ’s sake, either go down that goddamn hill now, or call in the fucking troops.”

“I appreciate the concern, Jack. I really do. Do me a favor and let Esti know about our new situation. I’ll get back to you in a little while.” Gurney ended the call over a final shouted objection. Thirty seconds later, his phone rang, but he let it go into voice mail.

Kyle was staring at him, wide-eyed. “That was that Hardwick guy on the phone, right?”

“Yes.”

“He was shouting so loud at you, I could hear everything he said.”

Gurney nodded. “He was a little disturbed.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course I am. But going nuts over it is a waste of time. Like most situations in life, there’s only one question that matters: What do we do now?”

Kyle watched him, waiting for him to go on.

“I guess one thing we could do now is turn off as many inside lights as we can, and lower the blinds in any room where we want to keep a light on. I’ll check the bathrooms and bedrooms. You turn off the kitchen and mudroom lights.”

Kyle went out through the kitchen to the mudroom, while Gurney headed for the staircase. Before he got to it, Kyle called to him.

“Hey, Dad, come here a minute.”

“What is it?”

“Come here, look at this.”

Gurney found Kyle in the hallway by the side door, pointing through the glass at something outside.

“You have a flat tire. Did you know that?”

Gurney looked out. Even in the dim light cast by the forty-watt bulb over the door, there was no doubt that the front tire on the driver’s side was dead flat. And there was no doubt in his mind that the tire had been perfectly okay when he drove up to the house half an hour earlier.

“You have a jack and a spare in the trunk?” Kyle asked.

“Yes, but we’re not going to use them.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think the tire is flat?”

“Because you ran over a nail?”

“That’s possible. Another possibility is that it was punctured by a bullet while it was parked there. And if that’s the case, the question is why?”

Kyle’s eyes widened again. “To keep us from driving away?”