'No way,' Connie said. 'He already knocked me on my ass once tonight. I'm not giving him another shot at it.'

'We could burn him with lighted cigarettes,' Lula said.

We looked at each other. None of us smoked. We didn't have any cigarettes.

'How about if I get a stick,' Lula said. 'Like a broomstick. And then we could hit him like he was a pinata.'

Connie and I did a grimace.

'You could really hurt someone like that,' Connie said.

'So what we want to do is inflict maximum pain without hurting him?' Lula asked. 'Hey, how about sticking him with a needle? I hate when I get stuck with a needle. And it only makes a tiny hole in you.'

'That has potential,' Connie said. 'And we can stick him in places that won't show.'

'Like his dick,' Lula said. 'We could use his dick for a pincushion.'

'I'm not touching his dick,' I said.

The either,' Connie said. 'Not even with rubber gloves. How about his feet? You could stick the needle between his toes and then nobody would see it.'

'I bet you got that idea from Anthony,' Lula said.

'Dinner-table conversation,' Connie said.

We fanned out and looked for a needle. I took the downstairs bedroom and found a sewing kit in the closet. I selected the biggest needle in the kit, and I brought it into the kitchen.

'Who's going to do this?' I asked.

'I'll take his shoe off,' Connie said.

'And I'll take his sock off,' I said.

That left Lula with the sticking.

'I bet you think I can't do it,' Lula said.

Connie and I made some encouraging sounds.

'Huh,' Lula said. And she took the needle.

Connie took Ward's shoe off. I removed his sock. Then Connie and I stepped back to give Lula room to operate. Ward was looking nervous, and he was shuffling his shackled feet around.

'This here's a moving target,' Lula said. 'I can't do my best work like this.'

Connie got another length of rope and tied Ward's ankles to the

chair legs.

This little piggy went to market,' Lula said, touching the little toe with the tip of the needle. 'And this little piggy stayed home-'

'Just stick him,' Connie said.

Lula grabbed Ward's big toe, closed her eyes, and rammed the needle into Ward dead center between two toes. Ward let out an unearthly scream that raised every hair on my body.

Lula's eyes flew open. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and

Lula crashed over in a dead faint. Connie ran into the bathroom and threw up. And I staggered outside and stood in the rain, on the front porch, until the clanging stopped in my head.

By the time I got back to the kitchen, Lula was sitting up. The back of her shirt was soaked in sweat and sweat beaded on her upper lip.

'Must have been something I ate,' she said.

The toilet flushed and Connie joined us. Her hair was a wreck, and she'd washed off most of her makeup. It was a sight that was more frightening than Lula with the needle.

Ward's eyes were dilated black. If looks could kill we'd all be dead.

'So, are you ready to talk?' Lula asked Ward.

Ward shifted the death look to Lula.

'Huh,' Lula said.

We all went into the living room.

'Now what?' I asked Connie and Lula.

'He's pretty tough,' Lula said.

'He's not tough at all,' I said. 'He's a jerk. We're a bunch of wimps.'

'How about if we lock him up here and don't give him any food,'

Lula said. 'I bet he'll talk when he gets hungry.'

'That could take days.'

Connie looked at her watch. It's getting late. I should be heading for home.'

'Me, too,' Lula said. 'I gotta get home to feed the cat.'

I looked over at Lula. 'I didn't know you adopted a cat.'

It's more like I'm thinking about it,' Lula said. 'I'm thinking of stopping at the pet store on the way home and getting a cat, and then I'm going to have to feed him.'

'So what are we going to do with this idiot?' Connie asked.

We swung our attention back to Ward.

'I guess we leave him here for now,' I said. 'Maybe we can think of something overnight.'

We cut the ropes away, stood Ward up, shoved him into the bathroom, and cuffed him to the main pipe of the pedestal sink. He had one hand free, and he was within reach of the toilet. We removed everything from the medicine chest. We left the ankle bracelets in place and attached an extra length of chain to the shackle and wrapped the extra chain around the base of the toilet. Then we closed the door on him.

'This feels a little like kidnapping,' I said.

'No way,' Lula said. 'We're just detaining him. We're allowed to do that.'

'I'm thinking about changing careers,' Connie said. 'Something more sane… like being the detonator on the bomb squad.'

We turned the lights out and locked up. We piled into Lula's car and left Point Pleasant.

'I never even got to play the claw machine,' Lula said.

Ranger's truck was still parked in front of the bond office. It wasn't covered with graffiti or riddled with bullet holes. I thought that was a good sign. I got out of the Firebird and unlocked the truck with the remote. Then I stood back, held my breath, and started the truck with the remote. I blew out a sigh of relief when the truck didn't explode.

'You're in business,' Lula said. 'See you tomorrow. Be careful.'

I got into the truck and locked the doors. I sat there for a moment in the dark, enjoying the silence, not sure what to think of the day. I was tired. I was depressed. I was appalled. I jumped when someone rapped on the driver-side window. I sucked in some air when I saw the guy. He was big. Over six feet.

Hard to tell his build in the dark. But I was guessing he was heavily muscled. He was wearing an oversize black hooded sweatshirt, and his face was lost in shadow inside the hood. His skin in the dark looked as black as the sweatshirt. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. He could be one of Ranger's men. Or he could be a messenger from the dead. Either way, he was freaking scary. I released the emergency brake and put the truck in gear in case I needed to lay rubber.

I cracked the window an inch. 'What?' I asked.

'Nice truck.'

'Un huh.'

'Yours?'

'For now.'

'You know who I am?'

'No.'

'You wanna know?'

'No.'

Pretty amazing that my voice was staying steady, because my heart was racing, and I had a cramp in my large intestine.

'I'll tell you anyway' he said. I'm your worst nightmare. I'm Junkman. And I'm not just gonna kill you… I'm gonna eat you alive. You can take that as a literal promise.'

His voice was deep, the inflection serious. No smile in his voice, but I knew he was getting off on the moment. I'd run into his type before. He fed off fear, and he was hoping to see fear in my face. I was looking into his mirrored lenses, my face reflecting back at me.

I decided my face wasn't showing much. That was good. I was learning from the men in my life.

'Why do you want to kill me?' I asked.

'For fun. And you can think about it for a while because I gotta cut the balls off a cop before I let myself enjoy you.'

There was more to it than fun, I thought. He wasn't a lad. He probably got the muscle and the attitude in prison. He was brought in by the Slayers, and I thought Connie was right, Junkman wanted something from these killings besides satisfying his blood lust. Not to trivialize the blood lust. I was guessing Junkman liked to kill.

Probably emasculated his victims for a show of power over the enemy, and I was betting he also liked the blood on his hands. He gave me some kind of gang sign language and stepped back from the truck. 'Make the most of your last hours on earth, bitch,' he said.

A black Hummer came out of nowhere and pulled up beside me. Junkman got in, and the Hummer disappeared down the street. No chance to get the plate.