Dad took a look, then changed gears and turned his eyes on the road. “Can’t really see from here.”

“Watch it, Carl, there’s traffic,” Mom warned as he pulled out onto the highway.

“What was that stuff about a man in a car?” Jerram asked when they were home, waiting for the pizza and for Dad to find the Christmas tree stand he’d so carefully stowed somewhere in the attic.

“I think it was the same guy who stopped to ask directions. But what were you going to explain to me?”

Jerram ignored her question. “When did he ask for directions? Today?”

“No.” With a resigned sigh, she told him about it.

“Let me get this straight. A strange man stops you and you talk to him?”

“I’m not stupid. I didn’t get in the car.”

“Ever hear of brute force? Don’t assume these girls are getting into cars on their own free will. Maybe Helena Klout did, to hitch a ride to New York, but we don’t know about Nancy or Cyn. Carla Fentesso certainly didn’t.”

“How do you know what she did? Anyway, I

wasn’t in any danger. Daniel came along.”

“That explains everything.” He stuck his headphones on his ears. Rose pulled them off.

“Everything’s a mess, Jerram,” she shouted. “Nothing is like it used to be between us. It can’t be. You’ve got to stop being jealous of Daniel.”

Jerram shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m not jealous. Why should I be jealous? We’re brother and sister, for God’s sake.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said, feeling crawly. “I mean you haven’t got anybody. We used to be all we needed, the two of us. Now . .. it’s going to keep getting different.”

“I’m worried about you, that’s all. Brotherly worry. I never thought of you as a ditz, but here you are giving directions to strangers. Didn’t you think of the danger?”

“I did and I didn’t,” she said, remembering the night she went up to Mackey’s. Maybe she should have reported it all to the police. She might have, if she hadn’t been so busy reporting all the other stuff. Somehow her own safety had been lost in the shuffle.

Jerram threw up his hands in a dramatic way, then crashed into a chair and slouched glumly. “I give up.”

“You’re right, of course. I should have been suspicious. I mean, if he knows Dad he must come from around here. How come he can’t find his way to route 7?”

“That’s what I mean, Rose. You can’t dismiss it.”

“But he looked familiar and ordinary. Not the way you’d think a murderer would look.”

“There is no way a murderer looks. I’ve been doing some research. Ever hear of Son of Sam?” “Who’s he?”