“No way. He’s not saying another word.”

“She could die of thirst, Cal, she could starve to death. Heatstroke, get sick…”

When the lawyer gave no response, the sheriff said, “Cal, that boy’s a menace. He’s got a slew of incident reports against him—”

“Which my secretary read to me on the way over here. Hell, they’re mostly for truancy. Oh, and for peeping—when he, funnily enough, wasn’t even on the property of the complaining party, just hanging out on the sidewalk.”

“The hornets’ nest a few years ago,” Mason said angrily. “Meg Blanchard.”

“You released him,” the lawyer pointed out happily. “Not even indicted.”

Bell said, “This one’s different, Cal. We got eyewitnesses, we got hard evidence and now Ed Schaeffer’s dead. We can do to this boy pretty much what we feel like.”

A slim man in a wrinkled blue seersucker suit walked into the interrogation room. Thinning gray hair, a lined fifty-five-year-old face. He glanced at Amelia with a vacant nod and at Fredericks with a darker expression. “I heard enough of that to make me think this’s one of the easiest cases of murder one, kidnapping and sexual assault I’ve had in years.”

Bell introduced Sachs to Bryan McGuire, the Paquenoke County prosecutor.

“He’s sixteen,” Fredericks said.

In an unflappable voice the D.A. said, “Isn’t a venue in this state wouldn’t try him as an adult and put him away for two hundred years.”

“So, giddyap, McGuire,” Fredericks said impatiently. “You’re fishing for a bargain. I know that tone.”

McGuire nodded to Bell and Sachs deduced that a conversation between the sheriff and the district attorney had occurred earlier about this very subject.

“Of course we’re bargaining,” Bell continued. “There’s a good chance that girl’s alive and we want to find her ’fore she’s not alive anymore.”

McGuire said, “We got so many charges on this one, Cal, you’d be amazed at how flexible we can be.”

“Amaze me,” the cocky defense lawyer said.

“I could go with two counts unlawful detention and assault and two counts first-degree manslaughter—one for Billy Stail, one for the deputy who died. Yessir, I’m willing to do that. All conditioned on finding the girl alive.”

“Ed Schaeffer,” the lawyer countered. “That was accidental.”

Mason raged, “It was a fucking trap the boy set.”

“I’ll give you first manslaughter for Billy,” McGuire offered, “and negligent homicide for the deputy.”

Fredericks chewed on this for a moment. “Lemme see what I can do.” His heels tapping noisily, the lawyer vanished in the direction of the cells to consult with his client. He returned five minutes later and he wasn’t happy.

“Whatsa story?” Bell asked, discouraged as he read the lawyer’s expression.

“No luck.”

“Stonewalling?”

“Completely.”

Bell muttered, “If you know something and you’re not telling us, Cal, I don’t give a shit about attorney-client privilege—”