Wolgast flowed with the traffic to the high school, where a marquee-style sign read, BRANCH COUNTY CONSOLIDATED HS: GO WILDCATS: SPRING FLING, MARCH 20–22. A man in a reflective orange vest waved them into the lot, where a second man directed them to extra parking in a muddy field. Wolgast shut off the engine and glanced at Amy through the rearview; her attention was directed out the window, toward the lights and sounds of the fair.

Doyle cleared his throat. “You’re kidding, right?”

Wolgast twisted in his seat. “Amy, Phil and I are going to step outside for a second to talk. Okay?”

The little girl nodded; suddenly, the two of them had an understanding, one Doyle wasn’t part of.

“We’ll be right back,” said Wolgast.

Outside, Doyle met him at the back of the Tahoe. “We’re not doing this,” he said.

“What’s the harm?”

Doyle lowered his voice. “We’re lucky we haven’t seen a local yet. Think about it. Two men in suits and a little girl—you think we won’t stand out?”

“We’ll separate. I’ll take Amy. We can change in the car. Go get yourself a beer, have some fun.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, boss. She’s a prisoner.”

“No, she’s not.”

Doyle sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I? She’s a kid, Phil. A little girl.”

They were standing very close; Wolgast could smell the staleness on Doyle, after hours in the Tahoe. A group of teenagers walked past, and for a moment they fell silent. The parking lot was filling up.

“Look, I’m not made of stone,” Doyle said quietly. “You think I don’t know how fucked up this is? It’s all I can do not to throw up out the window.”

“You seem pretty relaxed, actually. You slept like a baby the whole way from Little Rock.”

Doyle frowned defensively. “Fine, shoot me. I was tired. But we are not taking her on a bunch of kiddie rides. Kiddie rides are not part of the plan.”

“One hour,” Wolgast said. “You can’t leave her cooped up in a car all day without a break. Let her have a little fun, blow off some steam. Sykes doesn’t have to know a thing about it. Then we’ll get back on the road. She’ll probably sleep the rest of the way.”

“And what if she takes off?”

“She won’t.”

“I don’t know how you can be so sure.”

“You can shadow us. If anything happens, there’s two of us.”

Doyle frowned skeptically. “Look, you’re in charge. It’s your call. But I still don’t like it.”

“Sixty minutes,” Wolgast said. “Then we’re gone.”

In the front seat of the Tahoe, they wriggled into sport shirts and jeans while Amy waited. Then Wolgast explained to Amy what they were going to do.