“Go inside and see if you can find something to grease him up with. Maybe if we get him slippery.”

I took the flashlight and went through the cabinets, but they’d all been emptied. I was checking the refrigerator when I heard a sound like a baseball bat hitting a tree trunk.

I went to the coach door and looked out at Hooker. “What was that?”

“I don’t know, but I think he’ll fit now.”

“What are you holding behind your back?”

“A shovel.”

“That’s disgusting. That’s desecration of the dead.”

“I’m a desperate man,” Hooker said.

We wrangled Bernie through the door, I dried the garbage bag off as best I could in the stairway, and we carted Bernie back to the bedroom and set him on the towel on the bed.

“Maybe we should take the bag off,” I said. “I’d hate to have someone discover him and think he was garbage.”

“No!” Hooker said. “Trust me. You don’t want to do that. He’s a lot better in the bag. A lot better.”

Hooker adjusted the temperature, and we closed the door on Bernie. We walked Beans around so he could tinkle and stretch his legs, and then we all piled into the SUV and headed for the abandoned factory that Hooker hadn’t bought.

The factory was just as we’d left it. No SWAT teams. No flashing police strobes or crime scene tape. Our hidey-hole was still our secret. Inside the building it was pitch black and cold. At least it was dry. It had a bathroom that worked. I took my grocery bag filled with clothes into the bathroom and changed. When I came out Hooker was already dressed and feeding Beans.

We sat in the SUV and ate the rotisserie chicken and drank the beer, then polished off the bags of cookies.

“Do we have a plan for tomorrow?” I asked Hooker.

“Yeah. We abduct Rodriguez and Lucca and beat the crap out of them.”

“And we’re doing this why?”

“To get information. And after we get the information, we’ll get them to confess to everything. I have it all figured out. I can put my cell phone on movie mode and send the confession to the police.”

“Is that legal?”

“Probably not. The police will have to beat their own confession out of Rodriguez and Lucca to make it entirely legal. Our video would be more of a How to Solve the Crime Without Unjustly Arresting Hooker and Barney guide.”

I woke up tucked in between Beans and Hooker. Light was dim in the building interior where Hooker had parked the SUV, but the sun was bright beyond the open garage-bay door. Beans was still asleep, his warm broad back pressed against me, his breathing deep and even. Hooker had me in a stranglehold. His leg was thrown over mine, his arms tightly wrapped around me, his hands inside my shirt, one hand cupping a breast.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you awake?”

“No.”

“You’ve got your hands inside my shirt…again.”

“My hands were cold,” Hooker said. “And your boobs are nice and warm.”

“For a minute there I thought you were getting friendly.”

“Who me?” And he lightly brushed his thumb across my nipple.

“Stop that!” I struggled to slide out from under him and drag myself up to a sitting position. “I’m starving.”

I crawled out of the SUV and cleaned up as best I could in the sink. I washed my hair and finger-combed it dry. Hooker used my toothbrush, but he didn’t tempt fate a second time with the pink razor, so he was looking a little mountain man.

We hit the McDonald’s drive-thru in Concord, and when Hooker reached for the bags of food, he was recognized.

“Omigod,” the girl at the window said. “You’re Sam Hooker. The police are looking for you.”

Hooker handed the bags and coffees over to me. “Sorry,” he said to the girl. “He’s my cousin. Family resemblance. Happens all the time. Sometimes I even sign autographs for him.”

“I hear he’s a real asshole,” the girl said.

Hooker rolled his window up and drove away.

“That went well,” I said to Hooker.

He cut across Speedway Boulevard and looked for a place to hide. It was Sunday morning and the shopping-center lot was empty. Not good for losing ourselves. We finally settled on one of the chain-restaurant lots and dug in.

“So, how much do you know about this interrogation stuff?” I asked Hooker.

“I watch CNN.”

“That’s it? Everything you know about abduction and interrogation you learned from CNN?”

“Darlin’, I drive cars for a living. I don’t have a lot of opportunity for interrogation.”

“What about beating the crap out of people?”

“I have some experience at that,” Hooker said.

“We might need some equipment if we’re going to kidnap Rodriguez and Lucca,” I said. “Maybe we should get some rope to tie them up with. And rubber hoses so you can beat them.”

“I don’t need a rubber hose. But the rope might come in handy. And some doughnuts wouldn’t hurt either.”

Hooker found a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru and ordered a dozen assorted doughnuts. When he reached for the bag, he was recognized again.

“Hey, you’re Sam Hooker,” the girl said. “Can I have your autograph?”

“Sure,” Hooker said. And he signed a napkin and pulled away, back onto Speedway.

“Not going with the cousin routine?” I asked him.

“It seemed like a good line at the time.”

We finished eating and Hooker dropped me off at a Wal-Mart where I bought rope, some chains and locks, pillowcases (because CNN had shown terrorists wearing pillowcases), and a second flashlight. Minutes later, we were back in the motel lot with one eye on the back door and the other eye on the Taurus. And nothing was happening.

“Why aren’t they out looking for us?” Hooker asked.

“Maybe they’re taking Sunday off.”

“There’s no Sunday off if you’re a hit man. Everybody knows that. I could do a lot of damage on a Sunday. I could decide to go to the police. I could talk to the press.”

“All because you were ignored on a Sunday?”

“It could happen,” Hooker said.

“You should call them. Tell them to get their slacker butts out here.”

Hooker grinned. “I like that. That’s not a bad idea.” He called the hotel and asked for Rodriguez. “Hey,” Hooker said when Rodriguez answered. “How’s it going? I was just wondering what you guys were doing? I would have thought you’d be looking for me. Ray’s not going to be happy to find out you’re sitting around in your underwear taking the day off.”

“Who is this?” Rodriguez said.

“Jeez,” Hooker said, “how many guys are you looking for?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the mall. Thought I’d go to a movie. Get a slice of pizza.”

“Real cocky, aren’t you?”

“So far I haven’t seen anything to get worried about.”

“Asshole.”

Hooker hung up.

“Two out of three people can’t be wrong,” I said to Hooker.

We slouched in our seats and waited to see if Rodriguez and Lucca would go to work. Hard to believe that Hooker was watching a movie or eating pizza, but if it was me, morbid curiosity would dictate that I checked it out.

Sure enough, five minutes later Rodriguez and Lucca emerged from the back door, got into the Taurus, and drove off.

“They came out of the hotel and walked straight to their car,” Hooker said. “Didn’t even look for us.”

“Probably didn’t think we’d be dumb enough to be sitting here.”

“Happens to me all the time,” Hooker said. “People are always underestimating my dumbness.”

The movie theater is twenty-four screens big and attached to the mall. Hooker watched the Taurus turn onto the service road and stop at the light. The light changed and the Taurus crossed Speedway Boulevard.

“One more time to the mall,” Hooker said, putting the SUV in gear.

Probably Hooker could drive the route blindfolded by now.

Rodriguez and Lucca were already out of their car and walking toward the theater entrance when we swung into the lot.

“Now what?” I asked. “Are you going to run over them? Or are you going to snatch them at gunpoint?”