He cleared his throat. “I guess the Northern Coastal Plain.”

“You have any friends who’re geologists who specialize in the area? Cartographers? Naturalists?”

“No. They’re all marine biologists.”

“Rhyme,” Sachs said, “when we were at Blackwater Landing I saw that barge, remember? It was shipping asphalt or tar paper from a factory near here.”

“Henry Davettt’s company,” Lucy said.

Sachs asked, “Would they have a geologist on staff?”

“I don’t know about that,” Bell said, “but Davett, he’s an engineer and’s lived here for years. Probably knows the land as good as anybody.”

“Give him a call, will you?”

“You bet.” Bell disappeared. He returned a moment later. “I got Davett. There’s no geologist on staff but he said he might be able to help. He’ll be over in a half hour.” Then the sheriff asked, “So, Lincoln, how do you want to handle the pursuit?”

“I’ll be here, with you and Ben. We’re going to go through the evidence. I want a small search party over at Blackwater Landing now—to where Jesse saw Garrett and Lydia disappear. I’ll guide the team as best I can, depending on what the evidence shows.”

“Who do you want on the team?”

“Sachs in charge,” Rhyme said. “Lucy with her.”

Bell nodded and Rhyme noticed that Lucy gave no reaction to these orders about the chain of command.

“I’d like to volunteer,” Jesse Corn said quickly.

Bell looked at Rhyme, who nodded. Then he said, “Probably one other.”

“Four people? That’s all?” Bell asked, frowning. “Hell, I could get dozens of volunteers.”

“No, less is better in a case like this.”

“Who’s the fourth?” Lucy asked. “Mason Germain?”

Rhyme looked at the doorway, could see nobody outside. He lowered his voice. “What’s Mason’s story? He’s got some history. I don’t like cops with histories. I like blank slates.”

Bell shrugged. “The man’s had a tough life. He grew up north of the Paquo—the wrong side of the tracks. Father tried to make a go of it at a couple businesses and then started running ’shine and when he got collared by revenuers he killed himself. Mason himself worked his way up from dust. There’s an expression ’round here—too poor to paint, too proud to whitewash. That’s Mason. He’s always complaining about being held back, not getting what he wants. He’s an ambitious man in a town that hasn’t got any use for ambition.”

Rhyme observed, “And he’s gunning for Garrett.”

“You got that right.”

“Why?”