Twilight, then dusk. Jan left the sewing machine and moved behind Caruso toward the window. “He really should have been here by now.”

“Might have got held up at the Phoenix office,” Caruso said. “I’m sure he’ll be—”

The phone. Mathieson shot to his feet, unnerved. “I’ll get it.” He strode past the gin players at the kitchen table and snatched the receiver up, breaking off the second ring in its middle. “Yes?”

“Glenn Bradleigh. Is Caruso there?”

“Yes. Are you——”

“Put him on. Fast.”

Goddamnit I am so sick and tired of being pushed around.… But he waved Caruso over and stood back. “Caruso.”

He watched Caruso’s eyes widen and then narrow. “You sure? … Christ, that’s going to be a pill for them to swallow.… Well how much time have we got, then? … I see, yeah. But we’d be stupid to take the chance, the town’s just too damn small.… How the hell did they pull it off? … Christ, they must have put a lot of manpower on it then. Where do I report to you? … All right, I’ll call in. We’d better do it from pay phones on both ends, so just leave a time and phone number at the office for me. I’ll check in with them between six and eight tomorrow night.… Yeah, I’ll need it. Thanks.”

When Caruso hung up his face took on a studied blankness before he turned. Mathieson took a step forward. “What now?”

Jan came through past the fireplace and searched Caruso’s face. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“You’re not going to like it. I’m sorry.” Caruso’s grimace was half angry, half apologetic. “This is our fault. Glenn made a mistake but it’s something we all should have thought of. It looks like the Pastor organization got a make on Glenn. Either they picked him up in Phoenix or they’ve been tailing him all the way from Los Angeles. Either way, they shadowed his car up here from Phoenix. Apparently they’re using at least two cars; they were leapfrogging him and that’s why he didn’t tumble to it earlier.”

Jan reached out, braced her hand against the fireplace to steady herself and looked quickly from Mathieson to Caruso. “You mean they’ve found us again.”

“No, ma’am. Not yet.”

Cuernavan said, “Where’s Glenn?”

“Next town up the road, calling from a gas station. He’s going to keep driving as far as Gallup tonight.”

“Where’d he disclose them?”

Caruso made a face. “Not until he turned into Cochise Road. The one that had jumped ahead of him on the highway hung a U-turn—that’s what tipped him. He pulled over and waited, and both cars went right by him. He didn’t recognize anybody but he’s pretty sure. Both carrying California plates. Glenn ran them a little wild-goose hunt and got back on the highway. Tried to make it look as if he’d only pulled off onto Cochise Road to shake the tails. He’s going to try to distract them as far as Gallup. But we can’t take the chance they’ll buy it. They’ll come back to this town and they’ll start asking questions about families who just moved in. It won’t take them much time to find out about the Jason Greenes.”

Cuernavan turned to Mathieson and spread his hands, palms up. Ronny was shuffling the deck. He set it down on the table and squared it neatly, with care, eyes fixed on it. “You mean we’re going away again?”

Caruso rammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s about the size of it.”

Mathieson had trouble controlling his voice. It shook. “How long do we have?”

Caruso shook his head. “No telling. Long enough to pack, I guess. Jesus I’m sorry.”

Jan turned away and walked back into the living room. She moved like a mechanical wind-up toy.

Mathieson’s fists were clenched so tight they began to hurt. He opened his hands and studied them. Dear God I can’t take any more of this. I just can’t do it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Arizona–California: 12–15 August

1

BRADLEIGH WAS WAITING FOR HIM IN THE PARKING LOT OF the Tucson airport—taking short quick puffs of his filter tip. The open ashtray under the dashboard was filled with butts.

Mathieson got out of Caruso’s car and slid into Bradleigh’s. The air conditioning blew the smoke around Bradleigh’s face in fragile wreaths. Mathieson pulled the door shut. “You keep it idling in this heat with the air-conditioner on, you’ll overheat the engine.”

“Yeah, well it’s rented.”

Caruso was parking fifty feet away. Mathieson removed his sunglasses briefly to study Bradleigh’s face but then he put them back on.

Bradleigh was waiting for him to say something. Waiting for his forgiveness. Mathieson didn’t give it to him. “You get the papers for us?”

“In the folder.” Bradleigh tipped his head back and Mathieson found the folder in the back seat. He unwound the string closing and opened the brown flap.

“Paul and Alice Baxter,” Bradleigh said.

“Alice? She won’t stand for it. It took her four years to get used to Jan.”

“Jan for Janice. You could try calling her Al.”

Mathieson shuffled through the documents. “Nothing in here for Ronny.”

“We’re still preparing them. He doesn’t need paper ID right away—how often does a kid need ID? But we’re doing a birth-certificate search. We want to find one for a kid named Ronald. We can doctor the last name. Whatever town it turns out to come from, you can always say you were just passing through there when he was born.”

Mathieson stared at Bradleigh. “Do you think we’ll have time to get used to the name this time?”

“Look, Fred—Paul—I know how you feel, and I wish there was——”

“Some way to make it all up to us? I understand, Glenn. I understand it’s not your fault.” He tapped his temple. “I understand it up here. But down in the gut it’s something else. Have you ever felt real honest-to-God flat-out rage? Have you any idea how much it can corrupt your thinking …?”

“You want to take a poke at me? Would that help?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake.”

Bradleigh stubbed the cigarette out. “You’re not in a mood for much talk right now. All right, the tedious details, let’s get them over with. I assume you’ve talked it over with the family. Otherwise you wouldn’t have insisted on a meeting today. Where do you want to go?”

“We’ve got a place in mind.”

Bradleigh shook out a cigarette and offered the pack. Mathieson ignored it. Bradleigh’s smile came slowly. “And?”

“That’s all. We’ve picked a place. It’s on a need-to-know basis, Glenn. You don’t need to know.”

Bradleigh put the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He braced both hands against the top of the steering wheel, straightening his arms, pressing himself back in the seat and staring straight ahead out the windshield. “You want off the hook?”

“Yes.”

“I know how you feel. But it’s not wise.”

“I see. But it was wise to move to Showlow with a retinue a half-blind man could have spotted. It was wise to get tracked there within forty-eight hours.”

“That was my stupid fault.”

“Yeah, it was.” He was in no mood to give Bradleigh an inch.

“All right. I asked for that. But there are still good reasons why you need——”

“It’s my responsibility to look after the safety of my family, Glenn. It may be your job but it’s my life. All I’m doing now, I’m taking the authority that goes with the responsibility.”

“You’re a novice. An amateur. Out there alone you three wouldn’t last any time at all.”

“We’ll have help.”

Bradleigh’s face swiveled. “Whose help?”

“Need-to-know.”

“The fact remains we’re the experts at this. All right, we’ve blundered but don’t forget we caught this blunder in time. An amateur might not have caught it until it was too late.”

“I’m not going to sit here all day and argue the point. You know my position.”

“Your position’s counter to our policy. I’m committed to render every possible protective service.”

“You’ll be doing that best if you turn us loose.”