Sam looked at his cousin. "Remember him? He's one of the Wapeton Harts, Carl and Mary's boy?"

"Yeah. Good people." said Aaron. He turned to Shadow Love. "He's working with this cop?"

"Yes. And everybody likes him, Larry Hart. I went to school with him. Everybody liked him in school. Everybody likes him now. The hunter and Hart and this bitch from New York, they'll find us. There are people who know the Crows, who've probably seen you on the streets. And they'll talk…"

"You don't know that," said Aaron.

"Yes, I do. Just like I knew they'd find Billy. If they don't find us by accident, somebody will turn us in. And it could be one of you, or Leo, or John. Or maybe one of their wives."

"Nobody would do that…" Aaron objected.

"Sure they would, if this hunter pushes the right buttons," Shadow Love said.

"And of all of us, you'd be the only one who wouldn't break?"

"That's right," said Shadow Love. "Because you know what gets people? Love. That's what it is. Cops use it. They say, Help your friend; betray him. They catch Sam and they want Aaron. So they say on the news that Sam is dying, he wants his cousin to pray him into death… Could you stay away?"

Aaron didn't answer.

"I'd never betray us, because I don't have anyone I love enough," Shadow Love said with a subdued sadness. "Sometimes… I wish I could. I never had a laugh, you know. Never got to play catch-me-fuck-me with some chick. The only one, ever, they could use against me was Mama. With her dead, there's no pressure they could put on me."

After a moment, Aaron said, "That's the most awful thing I ever fuckin' heard." Behind him, Sam nodded, and Shadow Love turned away.

"That's the way it is," he said.

Aaron, tears running down his face, said, "They're all going. There's only Leo now."

"And us," said Sam.

Aaron nodded. "If Clay doesn't come in after South Dakota, one of us may have to go to Milwaukee."

Sam glanced at Shadow Love, involuntarily, just a peek, but Aaron caught it. "No," he said.

"Why not?" Shadow Love asked, his words like an ax-edge. "I'm part of the group; I have a stone knife."

"This action is not for you. If you want to help, go out to Rosebud and talk to the old men. Learn something."

"You don't want me here," Shadow Love said.

"That's right," Aaron said.

"You assholes," Shadow shouted. "You fuckin' assholes."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Sam said, pointing at the television.

Clay and his gun: "… to Brookings and will establish a temporary national headquarters in Minneapolis. This is the third time…"

The mood changed in an instant:

"The sonofabitch is coming," Sam whooped. "The cock-sucker's on his way."

They had a quiet lunch, the three of them sitting around a rickety table eating cold-cut sandwiches with mustard and Campbell's chicken noodle soup.

"So what now?" Shadow asked. "There are cops all over the place, and the FBI. In a few more days, we won't be able to go on the streets."

Aaron glanced at Sam. "I'll call Barbara. Tell her we may be coming. I don't want to go in too soon; we'd fuck up, go outside, somebody'd see us."

"If you're not going out to Bear Butte, you ought to come over to Barbara's," Sam told Shadow Love. "She talks like you were her kid."

Shadow Love nodded. "Yeah. I saw her before I went to L.A. I don't know… we'll be a danger to her."

"She knows that," Aaron said. "We've been on the run before. She says we'll be welcome, no matter what."

"She didn't know exactly what you were planning to do…"

"She'll take us," said Sam.

"Not a bad piece of ass either," Aaron said with a grin.

Sam snorted and even blushed. He and Barbara had been lovers. Nothing had been said when he talked to her on the telephone a month before, but he knew it would start again. He looked forward to it. "Jealousy. It's an ugly sight," he said into his soup.

Shadow Love stepped to the couch, picked up the cardboard box and opened it. Inside was a flat black assault rifle. He took it out of the box. "M-15," he said. He pointed it out the window at a streetlight.

"Where'd you get it? What's it for?" asked Sam.

"I got it on the street. It's for the cop, maybe. Or Hart."

Aaron had stepped toward the stove, reaching for the teapot. He stopped in mid-stride and whirled toward his son. "No. Not Hart. You don't kill the people," he said furiously.

Shadow Love looked at him with a cold glint in his eye. "I do what I think best. You and Sam disagree all the time, but you still act."

"We always agree before we do anything," said Aaron.

"That's a luxury you won't have much longer. You can argue. You can sit and think. You can fuck up. I'll try to buy you some time."

"We don't want that," Aaron said furiously.

Shadow Love shook his head, aimed out the window again and squeezed the trigger. The click hung in the air between them.

CHAPTER 14

Hart worked through an Indian-dominated housing project while Sloan did background on John Liss. Lucas, fighting a blinding hangover, made the rounds of barbershops, bars, fast-food joints and rooming houses.

A little after noon, Lucas called the dispatcher to check on Lily and was told that she was still meeting with the county attorney. He stopped at an Arby's, ordered a roast beef sandwich and carried it outside. He was leaning on his car when his handset squawked and the shotgun touched him behind the ear again. He almost dropped the sandwich. He stood paralyzed, and the cold metal pressed against his head and Hood's apartment rose up in front of his eyes, the circle of squad cars, the radios squawking… A few seconds later, it all faded and Lucas staggered from the car and half fell onto a mushroom-shaped concrete stool. He sat sweating for a few moments, then got up and walked shakily to the car and started off again.

A half-hour later, the dispatcher gave him a number to call. Lily's hotel. Lucas called from a street booth across from a leather shop, staring at a Day-Glo-green sign advertising hand-tooled belts.

"Lunch?" Lucas asked, when Lily said hello.

"I can't," she said. There was a second's silence, and then she said, "I'm going home."

Lucas considered it, staring at the Day-Glo sign, then down at the telephone receiver in his hand. After a few seconds he said, "I thought you might stay over, see what happens."

"I thought about it, but then… I finished with the county attorney and called to see when I could get a flight out. I was thinking tonight, but they said they could get me on a flight at one-thirty. I've got a cab coming downstairs…"

"I could come…"

"No, don't," she said quickly. "I'd really prefer that you didn't."

"Jesus, Lily…"

"I'm sorry…" she said. There was a moment's silence before she finished the sentence. "I hope you're okay. And I'll see you. Maybe. You know, someday."

"Okay," he said.

"So. Bye."

"Bye."

She hung up and Lucas stood leaning against the booth. "God damn it," he said aloud.

Two young girls were passing, carrying schoolbooks. They heard him, glanced his way and hurried on. Lucas walked slowly back to his car, confused, unsure whether he was feeling disappointment or relief. He spent another hour touring Lake Street bars, apartment buildings and stores, looking for a toehold, an edge, a whisper, anything. He came up dry; and although he was given more names, more people to check, his heart wasn't in it. He looked at his watch. Ten after two. She'd be off the ground, on her way to New York. Lily.

Daniel was in his office. He had turned the overhead fluorescent lights off and sat in a pool of yellow light cast by an old-fashioned goosenecked desk lamp. Larry Hart was sitting in the chair in front of his desk, Sloan, Lester and An-derson off to the side. Lucas took the last chair. "Nothing?" asked Daniel.