They all got it at the same time, “Forestry Service employee!”

“Would give him all the knowledge and access he needs of the back roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Even a built-in excuse if he ever did get caught. Not to mention he’d know when others were due to conduct surveys in areas where he’d disposed of bodies, allowing him to either move the corpse or perhaps redirect the survey.”

“Ah crap, I am never going hiking again,” Sal said tiredly.

“We should visit the fish hatchery tomorrow,” Kimberly said.

“Yeah, got that.”

“Get some property records from the town, find out who we can meet from the Chattahoochee National Forest.”

“Yep, yep, yep.”

Rainie was still walking around the muddy turnoff point. “You know what I find surprising?” she asked now.

They all turned toward her.

“It’s February. The leaves are off the trees and you still can’t see more than three feet ahead. I mean, look at these mountain laurels-they’re the size of small homes. Then there’s the grasses, the downed logs, the copses of white pine. In any other woods, you’d be able to peer through the trees for twenty, thirty yards. But not here. Hell, I grew up in the woods and even I’m creeped out.”

“On that note,” Sal muttered, yanking at his rain-soaked collar, “can we please get back in the car?”

“Okay,” Kimberly agreed, “but next stop is Wal-Mart. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all soaked to the bone. What are we supposed to wear tomorrow to the fish hatchery?”

“We’re spending another night?” Sal grumbled.

“You got anyplace better to be?”

They went to Wal-Mart.

MAC CALLED HER SHORTLY AFTER DINNER. KIMBERLY had just returned to her room at the Smith House, thinking for once that elastic waistbands were the best invention of the modern world. She had devoured nearly an entire fried chicken, a pound of okra, and two servings of cheesecake and yet her pants felt expansive, even roomy, as Baby McCormack engaged in her nightly game of kick Mommy’s spleen.

Rainie and Quincy had already retired for the night, but Kimberly was keyed up, agitated in the way that came right before a case blew open and she could finally see the answer that had been waiting for her all along. Her hotel room was good-sized, tucked under the eaves of the old building to form a long L, perfect for restless pacing. She went from the king-size bed to the desk to the bed and back again, her hands rubbing the sides of her swollen belly, her thoughts churning over and over. If Sandy Springs was Dinchara’s hunting grounds, then Dahlonega was his lair. Any day now, they would search the right records, interview the right person, and the last piece of the puzzle would click into place. They would find Ginny Jones, the missing girls, Dinchara himself. They would-

Cell phone rang, displaying Mac’s number. Immediately, she stopped pacing, her stomach cramping nervously. That pissed her off enough to swipe up the phone and declare loudly, “Kimberly.”

Static, three clicks, an echoey buzz. “It’s…me.”

“Hi, honey,” she said with more force than was necessary.

“Where…are you?”

“Dahlonega still. Have a few last visits to make first thing in the morning.”

“…weather?”

“Raining cats and dogs. You?”

“…gotta go out…special assignment…back…tomorrow morning.”

“What’s that? Reception sucks. Can you try a different spot?”

She thought she heard crunching feet. More sounds in the background, like men shouting orders. Then she put it together. The late hours, his special assignment. Mac and the narcotics squad were about to deploy, most likely to raid a suspected drug house or meth lab. And he was calling now because that’s what spouses did right before donning their flak vests and heading out. They made that last call home, buttoning up their personal life. Just in case.

The baby fluttered against the palm of her hand, and Kimberly sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Where?” she whispered.

“Can’t…talk. Later…in the morning.”

“Is SWAT coming?”

“Full…deployment.”

“Mac…” She should say something. Anything. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what. And all at once, she was aware of the distance that still loomed between them. The unanswered questions, the unbroken silences.

She wished she were home. It didn’t seem right to do this over the phone. They should be in their house, where she could hold him tight enough that he could feel the baby kick. Where he could whisper in her ear that he loved her and she could feel the tickle of his breath upon her skin as she spread her fingers over the beating of his heart. Life can change in an instant. A loved one could walk out the door and never come home again. She knew these things. She visited the tombstones twice a year to make sure she never forgot.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“Al…ays.”

“You’ll call?”

“Try…to…home?”

“Tomorrow afternoon maybe. We need to visit the fish hatchery, trace some records.”

“…feeling?”

“Baby’s happy. I can feel her stronger now, moving around more. Oh, she’s a carnivore. I’m finally allowed to eat meat.”

His chuckle faded in and out over the spotty connection. It brought him closer to her, so that she could picture the crinkles that appeared at the corner of his eyes, the half curve of his smile.

“I love you,” she said.

“…love you, too.”

Then the phone beeped and the call was dropped. She didn’t try to reconnect. Mac needed to do what he needed to do. And she…

She sat alone in her hotel room, wondering why, if she loved her husband so much, he felt so far away. At what point did distance go from being a marital phase to a new state of the universe? And what was a stubborn, hardheaded person like herself supposed to do about it?

Baby McCormack quivered. Kimberly rubbed her belly, listening to the wind outside howl across the parking lot, rattle the windows.

She put on her coat and headed out.

She found Sal sitting on the covered porch, tucked away from the wind, watching the wind swirl sheets of rain around the streetlights. Kimberly took a seat without asking, telling herself she had not sought out Sal on purpose. That was not why she left her room. This was not what it was about.

For his part, Sal didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking. He simply watched the storm, his face set in the dark, brooding look she recognized from before. His thoughts had taken him to an unhappy place. She wondered how long he’d been there.

“You ate chicken,” he said presently. “Thought the baby didn’t like meat.”

Kimberly shrugged. “Baby changed her mind. More evidence it’s a female.”

He finally turned to look at her, his gaze dropping to her rounded belly.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“Gonna work after the baby’s born?”

“That’s the plan.”

He regarded her more curiously. “Do you think it will change you? I mean, first time you’re called out for a homicide involving children, or a child abduction case, or the sex slave rings, or arson, or any of the other shit out there in the world that touches young lives and breaks them. Won’t that be tough?”

“There, but for the grace of God, go I,” she murmured.

“Not good enough,” he said flatly. “You’re ERT, right? You get to recover the body. Then what, go home to little Janey and pretend you can wash the smell off your hands, let alone erase the image from your mind?”