Border Patrol had ferried a Bell JetRanger to HeloAir, near Richmond International Airport, and Lucy wanted to take off this minute and fly through the night. I had told her this was out of the question, if for no other reason than once we got to New York, we had no place to stay, and certainly we couldn’t sleep on Ward’s Island. I needed a chance first thing in the morning to alert Kirby that we were coming. It would not be a request, but a statement of fact. Marino thought he should accompany us, but I would not hear of it.

“No cops,” I told him when he dropped by my house at almost ten in the evening.

“You’re out of your friggin’ mind,” he said.

“Would you blame me if I were?”

He stared down at worn-out running shoes that had never been given a chance to perform their primary function in this world.

“Lucy’s law enforcement,” he said.

“As far as they’re concerned, she’s my pilot.”

“Huh.”

“I have to do this my way, Marino.”

“Gee, Doc, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how you can deal with any of this.”

His face was deeply flushed, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were bloodshot and filled with pain.

“I want to go because I want to find those motherfuckers,” he said. “They set him up. You know that, don’t you? The Bureau’s got a record that some guy called Tuesday afternoon at three-fourteen. Said he had a tip about the Shephard case that he’d only give to Benton Wesley. They gave the usual song and dance, that sure, everybody says the same thing. They’re special. Got to talk to the man direct. But this informant had the goods. He said, and I quote, Tell him it’s about some weirdo woman I saw at Lehigh County Hospital. She was sitting one table away from Kellie Shephard.”

“Damn!” I exclaimed as rage thundered in my temples.

“So as best we know, Benton calls the number this asshole left. Turns out to be a pay phone near the grocery that got burned,” he went on. “My guess is, Benton met up with the guy—Carrie’s psycho partner. Has no idea who he’s talking to until BOOM!”

I jumped.