“Nuts,” Mackey said. “The jerk must be just plain nuts.”

Wade showed up not five minutes later, jeans pulled over his pajamas, his shirt hanging open. “Jesus, Katie, you got him! By damn, you got the bastard.”

“Actually, Miles got him. He’s got some good moves. Go cuff him, Wade.”

Miles was elated and exhausted. He walked to the children who were both sitting on the edge of the porch, went down on his haunches and pulled them both against his chest. He kissed Sam, then Keely, again and again. “I’m so proud of you both.”

“I want Mama,” Keely said against Miles’s armpit.

“Let her do her job, then she’ll be over here. You just hold on to me, okay?

“Sam?”

Sam burrowed closer.

“Sam? You all right?”

Sam didn’t say a thing. He didn’t even blink when Clancy staggered to his feet, knocked Wade off the porch, jumped onto the driveway, and disappeared into the darkness.

Katie cursed a blue streak, and ran after him. Miles leaped off the porch after her. Both of them were still barefoot. Miles heard Wade cursing, couldn’t make out his words.

Then dead silence.

He heard a gunshot.

Then more dead silence.

19

Miles watched Dr. Sheila Raines from across Katie’s living room speaking quietly to Sam. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t meeting her eyes. His small hands were restless, pulling on his jeans, scratching his elbow, punching one of the sofa cushions.

“He’s hardly spoken a single word,” he said to Katie, who was sitting next to him, holding Keely in her arms, the little girl was sprawled out, asleep. Miles barely got the words out. “Too much has happened to him, just too much. And we still have no idea who is after him, and why. And that’s the biggest mystery: why go through all this misery to get ahold of one little boy? Twice now they’ve come after him after he escaped them. Twice! And tonight Clancy came after him all by himself, and he was wounded. It makes no sense at all to me.

“If his kidnapping was for money, then why was there no ransom note? They had almost two days, surely that was enough time to make their demands known to me.” He paused a moment, streaking his fingers through his hair. “I was certain it was a pedophile who’d taken him, but no, that isn’t the case, and I thank God for that. And I’m as certain as I can be that no one, not even the crooks I caught when I was an FBI agent, would want revenge against me this badly. And if someone did, then why not just shoot me? That would be easy enough to do. Why then, for God’s sake?

“Jesus, this whole thing is over the top. And look at Sam, silent, his eyes blank like he’s really not here, like he doesn’t want to be here because it’s too scary, and he has all this terror locked inside him.”

Katie touched his shoulder. “It’s a terrible thing, what he’s been through,” she said. “But you know, Miles, even with the short time I’ve known Sam, I know he’s resilient. He’s a very strong little boy. Be patient. Sheila is very good. Have some faith.

“Now the motive. There is one, you know that, Miles. There always is. It’s just not obvious to us yet, and just maybe we wouldn’t necessarily understand it, but there is a motive, obviously a very strong one to the person or persons who had Sam kidnapped, given all the lengths Clancy and Beau have gone to. We’ll keep digging and we’ll find it, I promise you.”

It was as if he hadn’t heard her. “And it’s not over,” he said, still looking toward his son, “not by a long shot. Clancy is dead, and with him the name of whoever is behind this. But they’re still out there, I know it and you know it, Katie. And they’ll try again, you know that, too. Why stop now?”

“To be honest,” Katie said after a moment, “I don’t think Clancy would have said a word. Didn’t you tell me that you were certain he planned to kill you after he had Sam again?”

Miles nodded. He began rubbing Keely’s foot in its bright pink sock, so small, just like Sam’s.

“Even so he still wouldn’t tell you who hired him to do this.”

“No.” Miles happened to look down. Katie was still barefoot, wearing only jeans and her nightshirt with Benedict Pulp: Nonfiction printed across the front.

He looked down at his own bare feet and saw several cuts. He hadn’t even noticed until now. He’d see to them, but not yet, not just yet. Her feet were cut, too. Who cared about feet? He looked again at Sam and Dr. Raines. His boy wasn’t moving. He just sat there, looking at nothing in particular, moving his hands.