“Okay?” Silver called from the car.

She straightened her shoulders. “I'm fine.” She stepped over a timber and made her way toward the chimney. She wasn't fine. She wanted to get away from here and the memory of Tim Krazky and the hell he'd brought down on his family by offending Trask.

Stop whimpering. Do what you came to do. Think about Trask. Think about what he did. Imagine what he'd feel. Remember that night she'd touched him, and bring it all together. Learn him.

She reached out and tentatively touched the brick of the chimney. It was warm from the sun. It wouldn't have been warm that night. It would have been hot. Hot from the flames.

Hot. Hot. Hot.

Screams.

Lousy son of a bitch. Burn in hell.

No, burn here tonight.

They were trying to get out the front door, but he'd thought of that and tied a hemp rope to the doorknob and fastened it to the porch post. He'd anticipated everything, he thought proudly. Yesterday when they were at church he'd gone to every window and painted them shut, and tonight he'd crept into the house and started the fire first in Krazky's parents' room so that they'd be overcome with smoke first. Then all he'd had to do was wait here and make sure that that asshole, Tim, didn't manage to break a window and get out. But he'd seen no sign of Tim, and now the house was full of smoke. It wouldn't take long before they were too weak to—

He could see a face at the window. Tim's sister, Marcy. Crying. Beating her fists on the glass. She'd always had more guts than Tim. Where was Tim? Probably hiding under a bed.

Marcy was sliding to the floor, her hands clutching at the windowsill.

No more pounding on the glass.

He hurried across the porch and loosened the rope he'd tied around the doorknob. Then he ran around the back and untied the kitchen door.

The house was blazing. He could feel the heat on his face as he stared at the conflagration.

Die, you bastard.

He wished he could smell the oily prick's flesh as it burned. He'd only smelled burning flesh once before. Those two hoboes sleeping in the woods he'd set on fire last year when he'd been experimenting with ways to get at Tim. The scent had been like roast pig, only curiously different, more pleasing. Maybe if he broke a window, he could—

No, he had to get across the river to the woods and then home. Someone might have seen the blaze by now. Though he'd made sure there would be no way to rescue them in time. He'd burned the telephone wire leading into the house earlier in the evening. Tim's father had almost caught him when he went outside with the garbage.

Garbage. They were all garbage now. Less than garbage.

The water was cold as he left the bank and started across the river. But he didn't feel cold. He felt flushed and full of strength and exhilaration.

He'd done it.

So easy. The fire had taken care of everything. Killing. Destroying. Like a wonderful genie who had popped out of the bottle to do his bidding.

He looked over his shoulder, and his heart started pounding with excitement again.

Flames. Beautiful, beautiful, flames—

“Kerry.” Silver was shaking her. “Kerry, what the hell?”

Fire. Let the prick burn in—

“Kerry?”

Fight it.

“I'm . . . okay.” She jerked away from Silver. But then she had to lean against the chimney as her knees gave way. The brick was warm again, not hot like that night when—

Fight it.

“Tell . . . Ledbruk. Trask.” She had to stop to steady her voice. “The woods across the river. He's there now.”

“What?”

“Don't . . . ask me . . . questions. Just get someone across the river.”

He glanced across the river. “And get you back to the car.” His hand was beneath her elbow, pushing her across the ruins. “You're sure that—”

Hot. Hot. Hot.

“Do you think that I was communing with some kind of childhood spirit?” she asked fiercely. “There's no reason I'd suddenly be able to pull that off when I've never been able to do it before. I tell you, it was him. He has to be there. He felt safe in those woods that night. He'd feel safe hiding there watching us. He must have followed us from the motel. Call Ledbruk.”

“I'm calling him.”

She hadn't noticed he had his phone out and was dialing.

“Hurry. He's there. I know he's there.”

“Easy.” He opened the passenger door. “Get in and out of sight.”

She collapsed into the passenger seat and listened dazedly as he talked to Ledbruk.

“They're on their way,” he said as he hung up. “But the bridge over the river is five miles away.”

“He didn't take the bridge that night. He swam across.” She took a deep breath. “I don't feel him any longer.”

“Try.”

“Dammit, I am trying. I tell you, I don't feel him any longer. He's not there.”

“It's a long way.” He gazed at the woods across the river. “You lost him fairly quickly when he started moving away in the other two encounters. I'm surprised you could sense him at all at that distance.”

“So am I. It must be because this memory was so important to him.” She added bitterly, “It was his first kill and he was half out of his mind with joy. He didn't count the two hoboes. They were just a learning experience.” She straightened in the seat. “Let's go after Ledbruk. Maybe I can help.”

“I don't like the idea of you getting any closer to that bastard.”

“I'm not afraid. He doesn't like to make any moves without preparation and he doesn't take chances. He had this fire planned down to burning the telephone wires so that no one would suspect he'd cut them.”

“That doesn't mean he might not change. He followed you here. That was a big chance. Why would he do that?”

“I don't know.” Her hands clenched. “I don't know everything. Maybe he was looking for a chance to take his shot at me. Perhaps he thought it was worth running the risk. Let's go ask him. That's what you want to do, isn't it? Forget about me. You know Trask is the only thing important to you right now.”

He didn't speak for a moment, and she could see a myriad of expressions crossing his face. “Hell, yes.” He shrugged and started the car. “I'm glad you reminded me. What was I thinking? Let's go get him.”

Trask was no longer in the woods by the time they got across the bridge. Ledbruk's agents were scouring the area when Silver drew up behind their car.

“You're sure you saw him?” Ledbruk was frowning as he walked toward them. “How the hell could you tell it was him from that distance?”

“I could tell.” Kerry got out of the car. “He was here.”

“Past tense,” Ledbruk said sourly. “I've got a bad feeling that we've missed him again. God, I'm tired of it.”

Kerry had the same feeling. “You're probably right. He knows this countryside. He grew up here.” She gazed at the heavy thatch of trees. “But you've got to try.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” Ledbruk said. “I do my job. No stone unturned to find that snake.” He turned and walked away.

“He's not in the best humor,” Silver said. “Not that I blame him. He's done as well as he could, and it must be frustrating as hell to be let in on only part of the picture.” He glanced at her. “Any vibes?”

She shook her head. “I don't think he's here.” She leaned back in the seat. “But we're not leaving until Ledbruk confirms it.”

“Suits me.” He gazed after Ledbruk. “We'll wait until he gives up on the bastard.”

Ledbruk didn't give up for another four hours. “No sign of him. I'll leave two men here to keep searching, but I don't believe they're going to find him. You might as well go home.”

Silver looked at her inquiringly. “Kerry?”

She nodded wearily. “Let's go home.”