“I think we just learned their destination,” Donny said. “Norum Hill.”

Hari turned and followed them up the mountain road. “How do you know they’re not going to keep on rolling?”

“Because according to the map, this road goes to the summit where there’s some kind of memorial to an Indian chief whose—”

“It’s ‘Native American,’” Hari said. “I’m Indian.”

“Right. Sorry. Anyway, I can’t pronounce his name, but the road ends there. When you want to come down you have to use this road.”

The road could barely fit two cars.

“Not with those trucks on it you’re not. How do they—?”

A cop car with Berkshire County Sheriff emblazoned on the door was parked on the shoulder ahead. An armed deputy in a tan uniform, Stetson hat, and Sam Brown belt, who had been lounging against the front grille, stepped into the road and held up his hand.

Donny stuck his head out the passenger window. “What’s the problem, officer?”

“Rock fall ahead. You need to turn around and go back.”

“What about all those trucks we’ve been stuck behind like forever?”

“They’re gonna be a problem.” He didn’t budge from the middle of the road. “We have to get them turned around somehow. In the meantime, you’ve got to go back down to the highway and stay off this road.”

“But—”

His voice hardened. “We’re both speaking English, aren’t we? Turn around, go back down to the highway, and stay off this road.”

Hari waved at the deputy and began backing up.

“Hey, Hari,” Donny said, “what are you doing? We need to—”

She lowered her voice and said, “What we need is to not draw attention to ourselves. Look at Deputy Dog’s face. He’s not going to let us by.”

“But he’s lying.”

“Of course he is. He might not even be with the sheriff’s department. But you said it yourself: This road ends at the summit. What goes up, must come down. We simply have to wait.”

They parked farther east on Route 2 where they had a discrete and only partially obstructed view of the turnoff. Hari lowered the windows, turned off the engine, and they settled in to wait.

It turned out to be a short wait—half an hour, tops—before the convoy started rolling back onto the Taconic Trail and heading downhill toward Albany. But only the tractors were rolling. All the semi-trailers had been left behind.

“And there goes Deputy Dog,” Hari said as the sheriff’s car brought up the rear.

“Why do you keep calling him that?”

“The cartoon. You don’t remember Deputy Dog?”

“Nope.”

“Not important.”

Hey, Nineteen started playing in her head.

Hari waited until the sheriff’s unit drove out of sight and they had the road to themselves, then headed back up Norum Hill.

“They left their loads up there,” Donny said, staring at his tablet.

“Yes, Captain Obvious.”

“But where? There’s one road to the top with no turnoffs.”

He was getting on her nerves.

“Maybe they’ve created a turnoff that’s not on the map. Maybe they left the trailers at the summit.”