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“That’s not what I wanted to hear. Where’d you lose them?”

“The Shasta Valley Mall.”

“How long ago?”

“About two hours.”

“And the boy, how did the boy look to you?”

“Okay, I guess. I didn’t get much of a look at him. Once she realized who we were, the woman kinda went ape shit, you know. She jumped the curb and ran the car into an RV. Left behind one fucking mess.”

“He wasn’t hurt, was he? The boy?”

“I don’t think so.”

“We need the boy alive, Mitch. You understand that? If something happens to him, I’m holding you personally responsible. This is the second time you’ve screwed this thing up, and quite frankly I’m running short of patience. I want the boy back, and I want him back before this thing gets any further out of hand. You understand me? Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

“All right. Now… if there was an accident, there should be an accident report. And if she abandoned her vehicle, then the police should be looking for her. Keep tabs on what they’re doing and make sure you let me know the moment they come up with anything. Have you got any idea where they’ve been the past two days?”

Mitch glanced into his rearview mirror, saw that the left lane was open, and moved into it without signaling. “No, nothing. We’re still checking out the husband, but it looks like he’s living out of state. Could be they’ve been staying with a friend we don’t have a line on yet. We’ll keep an eye on the clinic in case they turn up there again.”

“Better reinstate the surveillance on her house, too.”

“Of course.”

“Sooner or later, she’s bound to turn up somewhere.”

“Yes, sir.” It had been an easy assignment and so far he had screwed it up royally. Retrieve the boy, that was it. No blood. No unnecessary force. Just make sure that he understood it would be in his best interest to come along peacefully. Well, that wasn’t going to happen now. Mitch knew it, and the man on the other end of the line knew it.

“Sorry about the screw up.”

“You and me, both, Mitch. You and me, both.”

[34]

Nearly three hours had passed.

The boy, whom Teri had referred to as Gabe out of pure exasperation, had sulked for a short time before curling up in the corner and falling asleep. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. He had slept sitting up, knees to chest, his head buried in the fold of his arms, and she had noticed a mark on the back of his neck. It was a scar of some sort. Round. About half the size of a dime. Maybe from Chicken Pox.

He stirred.

Teri got up and stretched, then checked her watch and pushed aside the curtains. Traffic had picked up considerably in the women’s section. Four of the eight changing rooms were occupied and she could see half-a-dozen women and several children rummaging through the racks. A new clerk was working behind the register. She looked up and smiled like an old lost friend.

“How’re we doing back there?”

“Just fine,” Teri said.

“Need any help?”

Oh, you wouldn’t believe the help I need, she thought.

“No, everything’s fine. Thank you.”

It was another ten minutes before the clerk became preoccupied and they were able to slip out of the changing room. Out on the main floor of the mall, they crossed to the other side, made their way past a Software Etc. and a B. Dalton, past a Payless Shoe Source and a Shear Magic, and into Sears. They exited out the back of the store, onto Larkspur Avenue, which bordered the mall on the north.

No sign of Mitch.

No sign of any of his friends.

The evening sky, which was moments from sunset, was a muddy orange and brown color, streaked with perfect brushstroke clouds that seemed too well-defined to be real. Teri took in a deep breath, grateful to be out of that damn dressing room and into the fresh air again.

“What now?” the boy asked, clearly on the cranky side. She could hardly blame him, though. It had been a long, difficult afternoon and she was feeling a little cranky herself.

“I don’t know. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Me, too.”

They caught a city bus cross town to a place called Casa Lupe. The boy ate a taco and burrito plate, with beans and rice, as hearty a meal as he had eaten since his return.

Afterward, Teri used the pay phone on the corner to try to reach Walt in the Bay Area. She had hoped he might be able to suggest what she should do next, but she wasn’t able to get a hold of him. It was all up to her now. God, what a difference a few days made.

She dug the quarter out of the change release and tossed it to the boy. “How are you doing?”

“Okay.”

“Well, you’re doing better than I am, then.”

“No answer?”

“No, he must be out somewhere.”

“Why can’t we just go home?”

“Because they might be waiting for us there.”

“What about the apartment?”

That’s why she had wanted to talk to Walt, just to make sure that it would be safe to go back to the apartment. Somehow, these guys had picked up their trail. Maybe it had been at the doctor’s office. Maybe it had been at Walt’s. Maybe it had been by chance. The problem was—she had no way of knowing.

“I suppose we could go by,” she said hesitantly. She looked down at him, smiled, and pulled him into her for a hug. “Quite a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be all right, Mom.”

“I hope so.”

[35]

Teri stood across the street from Walt’s apartment watching the windows and trying to decide if it was safe or not. The thing that troubled her the most was the light in the kitchen. She couldn’t remember if she had turned it off, but couldn’t image that she had left it on. It could be that Walt had come home unexpectedly early. Or it could be that someone was waiting to surprise them.

“How long do we have to wait out here?”

“As long as it takes.”

“There’s no one up there.”

“You willing to bet your life on that?”

“Yeah.”

She glanced down at him, recognizing the mix of weariness and frustration on his face, and wishing she could wave a wand and make everything better. All she could do, though, was ruffle his hair and turn her attention back to the apartment. “I don’t know. I just don’t like the idea of that light being on.”

“You just forgot it, that’s all.”

“Maybe.”

For as long as they had stood here, the apartment building had been quiet. Except for the couple on the bottom floor, who had gotten into a fight and had spent some time yelling obscenities back and forth. The husband—or boyfriend or live-in or whatever he was—had come stomping out of the apartment with a jacket slung over one shoulder and a beer in one hand. He had gone around the corner to the back side of the building, muttering to himself and that had been the last Teri had seen of him. Things had quieted down appreciably after that.

“All right,” she said uneasily. “I guess we can’t stand out here all night.”

They crossed the street in the middle of the block, Teri keeping the boy in front of her as she guardedly made sure there was no obvious danger. Around the outer edges of the courtyard, they kept under the shadows of the overhang. Near the northwest corner of the building, where the lighting was brighter, she took him to the top of the stairs, one step at a time, and paused near the landing.