If she told Derek, he’d run with it. It would be a headline on the paper’s Web site in ten minutes. You don’t ever wonder if you’re too close to them? She couldn’t say anything. Besides, what was she supposed to say, Keep an eye out for an octopus-wielding madman?

She threw the rest of her cigarette in the trash.

“Derek?” she said.

“Yeah?” he shouted. She could see him, phone against one ear, fingers pressed against the other, wearing some stupid sport coat and a tie, Herald ID on a lanyard around his neck. He’d wear that thing in the shower if he could.

She was being mean. He’d make a good boyfriend. For someone normal. Someone not her.

“Be careful,” she said to the dead air.

Chapter 30

CHAPTER

30

Susan had left a tampon on his desk. Archie had noticed it while he was on the phone with Claire.

No change.

That’s what Claire had said.

Archie wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. If Henry’s body was processing the toxin, shouldn’t his vital signs be getting better?

He opened his desk drawer, slid out the flash drive, and turned it over in his hand. It had been six months since Gretchen had given it to him. Her last move in their demented psychological chess game.

Archie had yet to plug it into his computer and look at the files. He had promised Henry he wouldn’t.

He put it back in the drawer and checked his watch. It was after noon.

An e-mail bounced up—the electronic file of Patrick Lifton’s missing persons report. The FBI had come through.

He was scanning it when Susan came back in.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “The story. I called the national editor at The New York Times while I was outside. Can I have a desk to work at?”

“You leave the boy out of it for now,” Archie said.

“Yep,” Susan said. “Now give me back my purse. I need my notebook.”

Archie’s phone rang. He saw Heil’s number and snapped the cell to his cheek.

“Where are you?” Archie asked.

“In the front,” Heil said.

“You’re calling me from the office?”

“It was faster. There’s someone here. Says he’s the one who moved Stephanie Towner’s body.”

“Here, now?”

“I’m looking at him. Says he’s the caretaker at Oaks Park.”

“I’ll be right out,” Archie said. He looked at Susan. “You can work in my office,” he said. He immediately regretted the offer.

*   *   *

August Hughes had broad cheekbones and a wide nose, and white hair that receded halfway back his scalp. Deep folds were stacked on his dark forehead, and dimples had long ago deepened into shallow trenches on either side of his mouth. White whiskers spotted his chin. His collared shirt was ironed. He was wearing red suspenders.