“That’s true,” she said, speaking evenly, though still struggling to breathe after the blow to her belly. The pain was making her jaw quiver. “We weren’t part of a drug operation. But the protocol is if a deputy doesn’t report in a certain amount of time they’ll send backup.” She glared at Gandy. “Tactical backup.”

Rudy considered this, chewing his wet bottom lip. He put the gun away.

She continued, “If they’re not on their way by now, they will be soon. Don’t make this worse on yourselves. I’m way overdue.”

“This is a state park,” the woman said. “They won’t search here.”

Rudy sneered. “Well, Susan, why wouldn’t they search? Can you give me a reason? Of course not. Jesus. Don’t be stupid… We had a good deal going and now it’s fucked up. You understand that? You understand how fucked we are?”

“Sure, Rudy. I understand.” Susan looked away from him. And angrily gestured to the child to fill the bags faster.

Gandy said, “That leaves those other two. The men after them. At least one had a gun, I could see. They could be with Fletcher.”

Rudy asked Brynn, “These men…either of them Hispanic? One of ’em black?”

She didn’t answer. Rudy looked at Gandy, who said, “Was night. They were a couple hundred yards away. I couldn’t tell.”

Brynn said, “You’re in enough trouble. We can-”

“Shut up. Do you believe her, these guys just broke in?”

Gandy replied, “I don’t know. If she was lying she was really good at it.”

“You see anybody actually shooting at her?”

“No. She tried to shoot them, with the Savage…” Then Gandy frowned. “But she didn’t take the shot. She could’ve. That seemed off to me. Maybe she was trying to trick me. I don’t know.”

“You gave her your gun?”

“What was I going to do? Say no because my family’s back in the camper cooking crystal? I could’ve taken it away from her anytime I wanted.”

“But she didn’t shoot?”

“Nope. Balked.”

“Why?” Rudy asked, moving close to Brynn.

I don’t know, she thought, and stared into the fat man’s watery eyes.

In the corner, little blond Amy was sealing bags of meth. She was working real hard for a kid who was up at this hour.

Rudy grabbed the duct tape the little girl was using, taped Brynn’s wrists behind her back and shoved her toward Gandy. “I can’t worry about her now. We’ll bring her with us. Get her out of here.” He glanced at the kettles. “Cool it down. Everything. Pack it up to travel. Fuck, what a waste.”

The woman and the skinny young man were shutting down the cooker and filling bags with the finished product. “Amy,” the mother whined. “Faster. What’s your problem?”

“I’m sleepy.”

“You can sleep when we’re on the road. No excuses.”

“Where’s Chester?” the child asked.

“He’s your doll. You should take better care of him.”

Rudy took the deer rifle and handed it to the scabby young guy. “Henry, get outside, up the path. Don’t shoot unless you can take everybody out. We don’t want any calls for backup. If fact, don’t shoot at all unless you have to. You see anybody, get your ass back here.”

“Sure, Rudy. You’re not…you’re not going to leave with me out there, are you?”

Rudy gave a guttural sound, registering his disgust. “Move.”

Gandy roughly took Brynn’s arm. Limping, he pulled her outside and dragged her to the van, pushed her inside. It was filled with clothes, suitcases, junk, magazines, toys, bottles of chemicals. He looped a rope through her bound arms, knotted it to a tie-down.

Brynn said, “There’ll be roadblocks. And the State Police does have choppers. You’re not going to get through. And don’t think about using me as a hostage. That never works. They’ll shoot you before you shoot me, or after. They’d prefer the first but they’ll do the second. It’s the way we train.”

He laughed. “Even now you’re balls out.”

“But I will cut a deal with you. You personally. Call my office. We’ll get it worked out.”

“Me personally?”

“You.”

“Why me? Because I’m the one who washes his hands? Who doesn’t say ‘him and me are going to do this’? Because I have green bumper stickers on the camper so I may actually care about the environment? Which means I’ll be reasonable?”

Yep. Exactly.

“You’ve got that little girl in there. Do it for her, at least.”

“I just fuck her momma. The kid’s not mine.” He slid the door closed with a hollow bang.

JAMES JASONS WAS still some distance from Lake Mondac but figured he’d better cut off the GPS (not as easy as you’d think but he’d had a special switch installed). Those satellites and those servers…who knew what incriminating information they retained?

Good for security but bad to find restaurants. Still, he’d spotted a golden arches and went for it. He did the drive-through, going for two plain hamburgers, sliced apples and a diet cola.

He was back on the road, driving fast but not too far over the limit. He looked to all appearances like a slim, agreeable businessman. But if you got stopped, even for nothing other than an unplanned DUI roadblock-at which they’d let nondrinkers like him go immediately-your name and tag might still go into the system.

But tonight he had to make good time and was pushing the limit. He was prepared for a speed stop, of course. Presently listening to jazz, he would flip the preset selector on the steering wheel if stopped by a trooper, and a Christian inspirational sermon would come on. He also would slip a sponge-backed Jesus effigy and pro-life sticker onto the dash.

Might not save him from a ticket but it would probably prevent a car search.

And James Jasons definitely didn’t want his car searched tonight.

Eating his food, he wondered how things were going at Great Lakes Intermodal Container Services.

In 99 percent of the cases, all you have to do is find a sensitive spot and you touch it. That’s all. You don’t need to hit, you don’t need to stab.

A touch.

Only instead of sending Paulie or Chris to extort me, Mankewitz picks a scrawny little asshole like you. That the plan? You whine at me until I cave?

Jasons chuckled. His satellite phone chirped. It was an Iridium model and customized; the signal was scrambled both through a camouflage system and a multiline shifting program, impervious to any snooping, probably even to the government’s infamous Echelon, because of the dual-mode scrambling.

He swallowed the burger he was fastidiously chewing. “Yes?”

The voice said, “Your meeting seemed to go well.” Mankewitz didn’t identify himself. The key word about Echelon was “probably.”

“Good.”

“There’ve already been certain overtures of cooperation.”

So Morgan had read the note and decided to be smart. Jasons wondered if the information he was going to deliver to Mankewitz would be helpful. There was always the chance it wouldn’t and the risk had been wasted. But isn’t that the truth about life?

The union boss said, “On that other matter, your personal trip now?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve heard from a relative.”

He’d mean the round, fuzzy-haired detective in the Milwaukee PD-whom Jasons thought was cute. The cop was more than on the take; he was basically on the payroll. “And?”

“It seems there’s going to be a party up there.”

This was troubling. “Really? Did he know who’d be attending?”

“No close relatives. Mostly local but I think some folks from the East Coast might be. They’re debating coming.”

Meaning no Milwaukee police, just local officers, probably county, though the FBI-the East Coast family-was a possibility. That was very troubling.

“So it could be pretty crowded?”

“Could be.”

“Anything more about what they’ll be celebrating?”

“Nope.”

Jasons wondered what the hell was going on up there. “Still think I should go?”

He said “think,” but the real verb was “want.”