The sheriff put in a call to the coast guard, which said it would send in a helicopter, but the consensus seemed to be that Neal had gotten drunk, decided to go for a joyride and probably hit a rock near the point and sank. The Trouts did not comment on the explanation, but as they drove back to the rooming house, their conversation dwelt on more sinister possibilities.

Gamay put it bluntly. “I think Mike was murdered.” “Guess I wasn't the only one who saw the charring around the wood. I'd guess his boat was set on fire or simply blown up. Neal's bragging about the fish he caught could have got him killed.”

“Is that what it is all about?” Gamay said, her eyes flashing with anger. “Neal was killed over a fish?”

“Maybe.” She shook her head “Poor guy. I can't help thinking that we're somehow responsible-”

“The only ones responsible are the guys who killed him.”

“And I'm betting that Oceanus had a big hand in this.” “If you're right, they may come after us next.” “Then I'd suggest that we pack our gear and get out of town.” Paul pulled the rental car in front of the guest house, and they went inside, paid their bill and grabbed their bags. The owners were obviously sorry to see them go, and followed them out to the car. As they chattered on about how it was a shame that they were leaving, Gamay tugged Paul's sleeve and steered him to the driver's side. She got in and waved farewell.

“Sorry to spoil our send-off party. While we were talking, I saw a black Tahoe pass by.”

“Looks like the wolves are gathering,” Paul said. He turned onto the road that would take them out of town and glanced in the mir- ror. “No one on our tail.”

Except for a few vehicles, they saw little traffic, and once they had

gone beyond the town's outskirts, the road was empty. The two-lane road wound through thick pine woods, gradually ascending so they were driving high above the sea. On one side of the road was forest, and on the other a sheer drop-off for hundreds of feet.

They were about two miles from the village when Gamay turned to look at the road behind them and said, “Uh-oh.”

Unknown

Paul glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a black Tahoe bear- ing down on them. “They must have been waiting down a side road for us to pass.”

Gamay tightened her seat belt. “Okay, then, show them what you can do.”

Paul gave her an incredulous look. “You realize we are driving a six-cylinder family sedan that is probably half the size and weight of that black behemoth behind us.”

“Damnit, Paul, don't be so analytical. You're a crazy Massachusetts driver. Just put the pedal to the metal.”

Trout rolled his eyes. “Yes ma'am,” he said.