From inside, I heard Mrs. Bennet say, “There’s soup and a sandwich all ready for you in the kitchen. You go in there and you stay there till I come in.”

“What kind of soup is it?” asked Katie.

“Tomato.”

“What kind of samich?”

“Tuna.”

“Is there cut-up celery in it?”

“No, no celery. I made it just the way you like it.”

“Is Mommy here for lunch?”

Now my eyes went wide for a thousandth of a second.

“You just go in there and eat, okay? I’ll be in in a minute.”

This time, rather than talking to me through the screen, Mrs. Bennet stepped out onto the porch. “You’re going to have to go, mister,” she said. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong house.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “That girl, Katie.” I weighed my words carefully. “Is she Trixie’s daughter?”

Mrs. Bennet sighed, shook her head in tiny jerks of exasperation. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, mister.”

“I need to talk to Trixie,” I said. “Even if I have her name wrong, I’m sure you know who I mean.”

“I don’t. I have no idea.”

“It’s urgent. Look, I was there when they found the body in her basement. The police are looking for her. I’ve been suspended from work, my wife’s ready to leave me, and I think Trixie at least owes me some sort of explanation about what she’s dragged me into. What if you just gave her a message?”

“A message.”

“Look, I could write something down, you give it to her.” I reached into my pocket for a small notebook and pen.

That’s when I took my eyes off Mrs. Bennet.

When I glanced back up, she had the small shovel in her hand, and she was swinging it, like a baseball bat, for the side of my head.

“Hey, wh—” I shouted, putting an arm up to keep the blade from crashing into my skull.

The wooden handle connected with the bone in my forearm, and the pain shot through me like lightning.

“Shit!” I shouted.

But she was coming at me again, taking another swing, and she had this wild, determined look in her eye that told me she meant business. I jumped back and the shovel whipped past me so quickly I could hear its blade cutting through the air.

When I jumped back, I lost my footing, and fell backwards. My head slammed into a post at the end of a porch railing.

That’s when the lights went out.

CHAPTER 25

25

THE FIRST THING I became aware of was the voices. A conversation between a man and a woman. It had to be a dream, I thought. It was the sort of conversation one might expect to hear in a nightmare.

“What are we going to do with him?” That was the woman.