“Do something?” Jake asked. “What?”

Cardwell smiled at Jake. “You’re the science advisor, my boy. You think of something concrete for the association to prove its faith in MHD.”

“Something concrete.”

His gentle smile broadening, Cardwell said, “Always make the victim a party to the crime, Jake. Bind them to you.”

Jake nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Good!”

Cardwell got to his feet and Jake went with him to the front hall, taking in a deep breath of air, as if he’d been submerged for the past twenty minutes. Alice came downstairs, all smiles and dressed for dinner in a lovely lilac gown. Jake said good night to them both and drove home through the early evening darkness.

He thought the car behind him was following him. Black Cadillac. Jake was pretty sure that was the kind of car that Monster drove.

“If It Doesn’t Work…”

“IF IT DOESN’T WORK…”

It was two days before Tomlinson and Amy returned, two days in which Jake struggled with his conscience about Sinclair and stewed inwardly at his suspicion that Amy was sleeping with Tomlinson. Two days of Jake looking over his shoulder for a sight of Monster or some of his pals.

She must be sleeping with him, he realized. They’re together night and day for weeks on end. Why wouldn’t she? I’ve got no claim on her. I never did. What happened between us was strictly fun and games. I’d be an idiot to expect anything more.

Still, he felt hurt. Betrayed.

He went through his classes like an automaton. Students dropped into his office for counseling sessions and he couldn’t remember what he’d told them five minutes after they’d left.

Jake looked up the number of the Fain Security Company and spoke to a woman who identified herself as Micky Fain’s daughter, Michelle.

“Our files don’t show any record of Mr. Tomlinson asking for a security detail for you, Dr. Ross,” she said, in a singsong kindergarten teacher’s tone.

“Oh. I see. Mr. Tomlinson must have forgotten about it.”

“He’s a very busy man, of course.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him about it when he gets back to town.”

Just after lunch of the second day Bob Rogers phoned. “We’re going to do a ten-hour run on the big rig,” he announced cheerfully. “Test the new electrodes. Want to come up and take a look with me?”

“Why not?” Jake responded. It was an excuse to get off campus, out of town, away from his troubles.

Rogers insisted on driving. “No sense taking two cars. We’ll just pop in for an hour or so and see how things are going. Besides, the weather forecast is for snow and my beast can handle that better than your little convertible.”

“But then you’ll have to drive all the way back to Lignite, won’t you?” Jake asked.