“I don’t have a girlfriend, and I don’t want one. You know that.”

“So, are you gay?”

“I don’t have or want a boyfriend, either.” He told himself not to let her nettle him.

“So-what, you’re like, what? A nothing?”

“Right, a nothing.”

She bit one corner of the towel, twisted it as she chewed. “Sorry,” she said after a moment. “That wasn’t very nice of me.”

“No, but don’t worry about it. Get dressed.”

“Are we going out for dinner?”

“If you’d like. What do you want?”

“McDonald’s.”

He winced. Spooky saw travel as an opportunity to eat french fries and cheeseburgers. Not to his own tastes, but he said, “Okay.”

Spooky laughed and hurried off to change.

He sat watching the water, letting it soothe him.

He had been worried all day, because he had dreamed the digging dream again last night. Usually, he thought of it as one of his least disturbing memory-dreams, but the last time he had dreamed it was the night before Molly was killed.

He made an effort, not entirely successful, to consider the matter of the killing of the dog dispassionately. He knew that by making sure he was seen, Cameron had left a warning-no, not a warning, he decided, but a challenge-an invitation to strike back. He wasn’t exactly sure what Everett wanted from him, although he could make some guesses. It would be Everett’s plan. Wherever Cameron was, Everett was behind the scenes, manipulating. Were others involved? He would go to Malibu to learn what he could. And he could keep Spooky safer there.

He felt the other phone vibrate then and forced himself to be calm, to let it ring twice before answering. Could be a wrong number. Probably was a wrong number. He flipped it open.

“Hello, Kit? It’s Meghan Taggert.”

Meghan. Not a wrong number after all. He felt elated, but hid that, as well as his mild annoyance that she gave her full name. He would have recognized her voice. It was low and rough, a voice of whiskey and smoke, although he had never seen her drink or light up a cigarette. Still, he was so pleased that she had finally called again, so relieved that she was safe, he wasn’t going to quibble. “Hello, Meghan,” he said, not letting his voice betray his feelings.

“Do you have a minute? Am I bothering you?”

“No-I mean, I have time, and you aren’t bothering me. It’s good to hear from you.”

“I wondered-I’m calling-it’s about Gabe.”

It was always about Gabe. He hid his annoyance at that, too. “Have you heard from him?”

“No, nothing since…not since…”

“Before he became a fugitive,” he said.

“Right. Listen, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry, I guess it’s just an old habit. I feel worried about Gabe, so I call you. I shouldn’t. It’s not fair to you.”

“I like that you call me. I’ll do whatever I can. You know that. I’m…” He searched for a word. “I’m honored that you call me.” That didn’t sound right, but he hurried on, afraid she’d hang up on him for saying such a dumb thing. “I’ll do whatever I can, but I can’t help out if you don’t tell me what’s troubling you.”

She hesitated, then said, “It’s nothing, really. Just-has he contacted you lately?”

“No, I haven’t talked to him since last summer. Just before…before the news.”

“Before the murders.”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe he did it?” she asked quietly, as if asking softly might soften his answer. “Do you think he could kill a family?”

He thought of her trouble-prone brother, who had been his closest friend at Sedgewick. Gabe, who did his best to welcome the new kid to the school, while others whispered uneasily that Kit had murdered his stepfather because of a dog. Sedgewick was a school of truants, misfits, and bullies, but even among them, Kit’s history was extreme and caused the other boys to think of him as a hard case. Most were wary of him, stepping away from him as he walked down the halls. Not Gabe. Beneath Gabe’s party-boy, man-on-the-edge façade, Kit learned, he was acutely aware of the feelings of others.

Gabe was at times heedless but rarely intentionally unkind. And he wasn’t violent. Even after Kit convinced him to learn to defend himself (on the grounds that he needed to be able to look after Meghan), Gabe would rather run from a fight than throw a punch. Yes, his addictions had led him to become a thief, and his attitude about taking material things was wrong-Kit doubted even Gabe believed the rationalization that the theft of heavily insured goods really didn’t do much harm. Even so, taking a diamond ring wasn’t the same as taking a life.

“No,” he said. “I’ll never believe that of Gabe. But…”

“But he was there, with the people who were breaking into the house, and so the law will say he’s as guilty of murder as the guy who did the shooting. Just for being with them!”

“Meghan,” he said gently, “he probably wasn’t just with them, he was probably there to do some breaking and entering.”

“Yes, you’re right. That’s his history, after all.”

The guilt came washing over him then. “I knew he had done things like that before. And I knew he was broke. He’d asked me for money.”

She must have guessed the direction of his thoughts, though, because she said, “You couldn’t have stopped him, Kit. Even if you had given him the money he asked for-and I don’t blame you for turning him down, either. He just would have used it to get drunk or high.”

“I guess I can’t help but believe…maybe if he’d had money, Gabe and his friends wouldn’t have been there, and those people would be alive.”

“I didn’t give him money, either. Does that make me guilty, too?”

“No, of course not.”

“Maybe not, but I think about it every day, Kit. Every single day. I ask myself if I could have prevented it from happening. Even though I know he would have spent everything I gave him or you gave him-it would have been gone in no time. Just like his inheritance. You’ve always stood by him, and he’s been nothing but a pain in the ass. But this-it’s so awful, Kit. Worse than anything he’s ever been involved in before. I guess I’ve been ashamed to call you because of it.”

“No, Meghan. Don’t say that. Please. He’s always been in one kind of trouble or another. It’s not your fault. It’s just-just the way he is. He doesn’t like killing. He would have hated that. He just got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Is that really all it takes? I don’t know.”

What could he tell her? That no effort on her part would have made a difference? That her brother would have to save himself? No, she wouldn’t be able to hear that, not now. Besides, he knew that he’d do anything he could to help Gabe, if Gabe ever sought his help again.

Would Gabe contact him? It had been almost a year since he had talked to him.

Now he wondered if he had been too certain of Gabe’s ability to stay concealed. What if someone other than the FBI was looking for Gabe?

He thought of the private jet that had flown to Germany.

“Kit?”

Her voice brought his thoughts back to her. Cautiously, he said, “Meghan, you can always call me. Always. I’m not just Gabe’s friend. I’m your friend, too.”

There was another long silence. He agonized over what he had just said to her. Had he been too eager? Did he say something offensive to her? Would she ever call again?

And then, to his shock, he heard her crying.

“Meghan, please-please don’t cry.”

“God, Kit. I’m sorry. I should have called you a long time ago.”

He was silent, unsure of how to proceed.

He heard her sniff. “Man, can you believe it? Me, crying. In a hotel lobby no less. Where the last thing I want to do is make a scene.”

“Why are you at a hotel?”

She laughed. “Like my brother, I’m a fugitive from the FBI.”

“What?”

“No, not because I’ve broken any laws. But they’re watching the house, probably thinking Gabe will try to contact me, or that I’m hiding him or-God knows. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sure my phone has been tapped. So I took off. I’m in Albuquerque, trying to unwind a little. Not that it’s working-I keep having this sensation of being watched, so I guess I’m still too uptight. I’m using one of those prepaid calling cards from a pay phone. Ridiculously paranoid, right?”