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“Jesus, Mars, you scared the shit out of me. I was looking for you. Dennis wants you to watch those monitors back in the bedroom.”

Mars stepped closer, his pale face empty.

“I heard you with the girl, Kevin. You’re going to leave.”

Kevin stepped back. Mars followed him, staying uncomfortably close.

“That’s bullshit, Mars. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t ruin a good thing, Kevin. You’ll regret it later.”

Kevin felt a stab of anger that shook him. Fuck it. Mars had heard; let him hear it all. Kevin stopped backing up.

“Then you can stay! I’ve had enough of this, Mars. We’re trapped. It’s over! If we stay, the cops will kill us. Don’t you get that?”

Mars stared down at him, his pasty face thoughtful. Then he stepped aside.

“I get it, Kevin. If you want to go, go.”

Kevin waited for more, thinking that Mars was upset or angry, or would drag him downstairs to Dennis, but Mars only raised his hand, offering the way to the stairs. His voice soft and encouraging.

“Go.”

Kevin glanced toward Thomas’s room.

“I’m going to take these kids.” Mars nodded.

“That’s okay. Go.”

Kevin stared up at Mars, then turned and stepped into the darkness.

TALLEY

After Talley and Jones had spoken with Martin, Jones moved his two vans to the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Talley returned to his car, where he sat by himself, watching the two vans. Jones and one of his men, a blond guy with a crew cut and wire-rimmed glasses, left the vans to scout the perimeter.

Talley felt like a traitor and a coward. He had returned to his car so that he could avoid the Sheriffs and his own men. When he and Jones were in the command van with Martin, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He let Jones do the talking.

When Jones and his man disappeared into the cul-de-sac, the street was still.

Martin climbed down from the command van, saw Talley in his car, and walked over. She had taken off the flak vest and all the crap SWAT cops clip to themselves, and was wearing only the black fatigues and a cap. The cap read BOSS. Talley watched her approach, hoping that she would continue into Mrs. Pena’s, but she came to his side of the car.

Martin stopped a few feet away, took out a pack of cigarettes, and offered one to Talley.

“Don’t smoke.”

Martin lit up without a word. She drew the smoke in deep, then blew a plume that gassed into the night air like a shroud of fog. Talley didn’t know many SWAT cops who smoked. Bad for the wind.

When she spoke, her voice was calm and reasonable.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Talley watched the smoke.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not stupid.”

Talley didn’t answer.

“All the phone calls. That scene in the ambulance between you and the doctor, wanting him to wake Smith; I thought you were going to shoot the guy. Whatever you were talking about with that kid, then charging off to the hospital. I had my I.O. call over there, Talley; if someone phoned in a death threat, it’s news to everyone else out here, including the people back at your office.”

She drew more smoke, then appraised him.

“Now we got the FBI with this bullshit about Smith being in witness protection. What’s going on, Chief? Who is Walter Smith?”

Talley glanced over. Her eyes were steady and cool, meeting his without guile. He liked her measured attitude, and her direct manner. He thought he would probably like her, given the time for it; she was probably a pretty good cop. The weight of the day suddenly pressed down on him with an intensity that left him numb. There were too many things to control and too many lies to tell. It was all too complicated, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up. Like a juggler with a hundred balls in the air, he was going to drop one sooner or later. A ball would hit the ground and someone would die. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t fail Amanda and Jane or the kids in that house or even Walter Smith.

“I need help.”

“That’s why we rolled out, Chief.”

“Do you know the name Sonny Benza?”

She searched his face, Talley thinking that she couldn’t place the name, but then she did.

“That’s the mob guy, right?”

“Smith works for him. Smith has something in that house that can put Benza away, and Benza wants it.”

“Jesus.”

Talley looked at her, and felt his eyes go wet.

“He has my wife and daughter.”

Martin looked away.

Talley told her about the disks, the Watchman, and Jones. He told her how he had played it, and how he intended to play it. She listened without question or comment until he finished, then she crushed her cigarette beneath her heel and stared at the two vans where Jones’s people waited.

“You have to bring this to the Bureau.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Turn it over to Organized Crime. With what you have they could move on Benza right now, pull him straight out of bed and hang him by his thumbs. We breach into that house, get these disks he wants, and that’s all she wrote. That’s how you save your family.”

“It’s not your family.”

She considered the dead cigarette, and sighed.

“No, I guess not.”

“All I have is a voice on a phone, Martin. I don’t know where they are, I don’t know who has them. Benza has people out here; he knows what we’re doing. He could make Jane and Amanda vanish even before we read him his rights, and what do I have? Three men I can’t identify in cars I can’t identify, and Jones over there. I don’t give a shit about making a case. I just want my family.”

Martin stared at the two vans, and sighed again. It was getting to be a long night for all of them.

“I am not going to let murder happen out here, Talley. I can’t do that.”

“Me neither. Jesus.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I can’t let those disks go into evidence. They’re the only leverage I have.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Help me. Keep it between us, but help me get those disks. I can’t let Jones go into that house alone.”

Talley watched her, hoping that she would go along. He couldn’t stop her from going upstairs. All he could do was trust her. She looked back at him, and nodded.

“I’ll do what I can. You keep me informed, Talley. I don’t want to get shot in the back. I can’t let my people get hurt, either.”

Talley felt better, the load lessened because now she helped bear it.

“All I need are those damned disks. I get those disks, and then I’ll have something to trade.”

She considered him, then put her cigarettes back into her jumpsuit. Talley knew what she was going to say before she said it.

“You need more than that. You know too much for Benza to leave you alive. You realize that, don’t you? You, your family, Smith; he can’t leave any of you alive. What are you going to do about that?”

“I’ll deal with it when I have the disks.”

Talley’s cell phone rang, loud in the silence of the night. Martin jumped.

“Shit.”

Talley thought it might be Thomas, but it was Mikkelson, sounding far away and strange.

“Chief, Dreyer and I are still out here at Krupchek’s trailer with detectives from the Sheriff’s Bureau. We got some stuff to report.”

Talley had forgotten about Mikkelson and Dreyer. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts.

“Go, Mikkelson.”

“Krupchek isn’t Krupchek. His real name is Alvin Marshall Bonnier. His mother’s head is in the freezer.”

PART FOUR

TACTICS

23

Saturday, 12:52 A.M.