I grunted. “I hear a lot of things. I think that there are some islands out there. They were used as bases for wilderness fighters in several wars. Bootleggers used them as a transfer point for running booze in from Canada, back in the Prohibition days. But there were always stories around them.”

Molly frowned. “What kind of stories?”

I shrugged. “The usual scary stuff. Hauntings. People driven insane by unknown forces. People dragged into the water by creatures unknown, or found slaughtered by weaponry several centuries out-of-date.”

“Then why aren’t they on the maps and stuff?” Molly asked.

“The islands are dangerous,” I said. “Long way from any help, and the lake can be awfully mean in the winter. There are stone reefs out there, too, that could gut a boat that came too close. Maybe someone down at city hall figured that the islands would prove less of a temptation to people if everyone thought they were just stories, and invested some effort in removing them from the public record.”

“That wouldn’t be possible,” Molly said.

“It might be,” Luccio responded. “The energies concentrated around those islands would tend to make people unconsciously avoid them. If one did not have a firm destination fixed in mind, the vast majority of people in the area would swing around the islands without ever realizing what they were doing.”

I grunted. “And if there’s that much bad mojo spinning around out there, it would play merry hell with navigational gear. Twenty bucks says that the major flight lanes don’t come within five miles of the place.” I thumped my finger on the spot and nodded. “It feels right. She’s there.”

“If she is,” Molly asked, “then what do we do about it?”

Luccio tilted her head at me, frowning.

“Captain, I assume you already contacted the Council about getting reinforcements?”

“Yes,” she said. “They’ll be here as soon as possible—which is about nine hours from now.”

“Not fast enough,” I said, and narrowed my eyes in thought. “So we call in some favors.”

“Favors?” Luccio asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I know a guy with a boat.”

Chapter Forty

I rushed around setting up details for the next half an hour. Everyone left to get into position except for me, Molly, and Kincaid. And Mouse.

My dog was clearly upset that I wasn’t going to be bringing him along, and though he dutifully settled down on the floor near Molly’s feet, he looked absolutely miserable.

“Sorry, boy,” I told him. “I want you here to help Molly and warn her about any danger.”

He sighed.

“I got along just fine without you for quite a while,” I told him. “Don’t you worry about me.”

He rolled onto his back and gave me another pathetic look.

“Hah. Just trying to cadge a tummy rub. I knew it.” I leaned down and obliged him.

A minute later the back door opened, and Thomas came in. “Finally,” he said. “I’ve been sitting in my car so long, I think I left a dent in the seat.”