Dance let Dylan and Patsy out for their bedtime business, then made a fast search of the property. No unrecognized cars were parked nearby. She got the animals back inside. Normally they’d sleep in the kitchen but tonight she let them have the run of the house; they made a huge racket when strangers came around. She also armed the window and door alarms.

Dance went into Maggie’s room and listened to her play a brief Mozart piece on the keyboard. Then kissed her good-night and shut out the light.

She sat for a few minutes with Wes while he told her about a new kid at the camp who’d moved to town with his parents a few months ago. They’d enjoyed playing some practice matches today.

“You want to ask him and his folks over tomorrow? To Grandpa’s birthday?”

“Naw. I don’t think so.”

After his father’s death Wes had also grown more shy and reclusive.

“You sure?”

“Maybe later. I don’t know…. Mom?”

“Yes, dearest son.”

An exasperated sigh.

“Yes?”

“How come you’ve still got your gun?”

Children…nothing whatsoever gets by them.

“Forgot all about it. It’s going in the safe right now.”

“Can I read for a while?”

“Sure. Ten minutes. What’s the book?”

“Lord of the Rings.” He opened, then closed it. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

But nothing more was forthcoming. Dance thought she knew what was on his mind. She’d talk if he wanted to. But she hoped he didn’t; it’d been a really long day.

Then he said, “Nothing,” in a tone she understood to mean: There is something but I don’t want to talk about it yet. He returned to Middle Earth.

She asked, “Where are the hobbits?” A nod at the book.

“In the Shire. The horsemen are looking for them.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“’Night, Mom.”

Dance slipped the Glock into the safe. She reset the lock to a simple three-digit code, which she could open in the dark. She tried it now, with her eyes closed. It took no more than two seconds.

She showered, donned sweats and slipped under the thick comforter, the sorrows of the day wafting around her like the scent of lavender from the potpourri dish nearby.

Where are you? she thought to Daniel Pell. Who’s your partner?

What are you doing at this moment? Sleeping? Driving through neighborhoods, looking for someone or something? Are you planning to kill again?

How can I figure out what you have in mind, staying close?

Drifting off to sleep, she heard in her mind lines from the tape she and Michael O’Neil had just listened to.