Frederick was scared, but he was angry at the same time. He wondered if the private detective had killed Payne. Private detectives didn't work for free; they were bought and paid to do someone's dirty work. Somehow Cole had identified Payne (probably through that rotten priest) and baited him into Los Angeles.

Frederick suddenly burned with a panic that Payne had talked before Cole killed him, maybe spouting prayers to Jesus as he begged Cole for mercy, Frederick seeing it as vividly in his head as if it were happening in front of him, Payne finally after all these years popping under their secret weight like a blood orange crushed under a boot - spurt! - squirting seeds and pulp as -

Frederick 's head filled with the strange buzz that left his brain tight and cloudy, like he had swallowed the air hose again. He pressed his fingertips into his eyes as hard as he could. He rolled his knuckles across his temples, then grabbed his ears. He pulled his ears so hard that the pain was blinding, then released; pulled, then released.

The buzzing faded.

Cole had obviously been hunting them for years. Somehow he had identified Payne, and made contact, but Payne probably hadn't ratted him out, else Cole would have gone straight to Canyon Camino instead of dicking around here at Payne's motel. Cole had been hired to find them and kill them, and he had killed Payne. Now he was trying to kill Frederick.

Frederick Conrad couldn't imagine it any other way: They were being executed. They were paying the price Payne always said they would pay. He felt the sudden sharp panic of wanting to blast south out of town, burning rubber off all four tires all the way into Mexico, but -

Elvis Cole had killed Payne.

Frederick wondered if Cole had mutilated Payne's body. He imagined Payne screaming in pain as he prayed for forgiveness. Cole probably got paid extra for this kind of stuff. Frederick started crying, and he suddenly saw it happening right there in the truck through the blurry prisms of his tears - Payne was sprawled naked across the seat, his loose, old man's flesh ugly and bleeding as a towering gray shadow ripped away long strips of skin with a pair of pliers. Payne screamed horribly as Cole tore his skin.

Frederick covered his ears.

"Stop it. Stop screaming like that."

Payne and Cole went away, but it took a while for Frederick to calm. He was scared and sickened by what Cole had done to Payne. Frederick wanted to run, but he couldn't leave with an assassin like Cole on his trail. Cole wouldn't stop unless you stopped him. Frederick had to stop Cole right now, and he had to make him PAY FOR PAYNE.