‘Oh.’ She stepped into the doorway. Her face was grave and she brushed her static-clinging hair from her face, twined it into a rope and let it fall on her back. ‘It was terrible. That guy? Who attacked you? He wasn’t a psycho at all. He’d come here to poison the water supply in New York.’

‘Shit! That was it? I heard something about water.’

‘One of those militia groups, like my mother was in.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Lincoln thought that the killer was obsessed with the Bone Collector. But, get this, it wasn’t that at all; he was interested in the attack my mother planned here years ago. He was trying to figure out how Lincoln and Amelia would conduct an investigation. Oh, he wasn’t very happy he missed that. Lincoln, I mean. He gets pretty mad when he makes mistakes.’

The kettle whistled and Pam ducked back into the kitchen and poured the boiling water into the cone. The crisp sound was comforting. She fixed his the way he liked it – two sugars and one dash of half-and-half. She drank hers black.

Pam brought the cups out and sat beside him. Their knees touched.

Seth asked, ‘Who were they exactly?’

She tried to recall. ‘They were with, what was it called? The American Family Council. Something like that. Doesn’t sound like a militia.’ Pam laughed. ‘Maybe they had a public relations team work on their image.’

Seth smiled. ‘You ever hear of them when you and your mom were hiding out in Larchwood?’

‘Don’t think so. Lincoln said the people doing this were from Southern Illinois. It wasn’t far away from where my mother and I were. And I remember my mother and stepfather would meet with people from the other militias sometimes but I never paid any attention. I hated them all. Hated them so much.’ Her voice faded.

‘But the tattoo guy, the killer, he’s dead and the others got arrested.’

‘Right. A husband and wife and their son. They still don’t know who the guy in the tunnel was, who was killed. The tattoo artist.’

‘You’re still not talking to Amelia?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not.’

‘For now.’

‘For a long time,’ Pam said firmly.

‘She doesn’t like me.’

‘No! That’s not it. She’s just protective. She thinks I’m this fragile doll. I don’t know. Jesus.’

Seth put down the coffee. ‘Okay if we talk about something serious?’

‘Sure, I guess.’

All right, what was this?

He laughed. ‘Relax. I’ve decided we need to hit the road sooner. Right away.’

‘Really? But I don’t have my passport yet.’

‘I was thinking we could stick to the US for a while.’

‘Oh. Well, I just thought we were going to see India. Then Paris and Prague and Hong Kong.’

‘We will. Just not now.’