"He didn't answer my shouts," said Pam. "We got a pretty good look."

"Can't break the door, either," said Jo. "Three locks, plate steel, and the hinges are inside."

She removed her hat. Rain had gotten underneath and her hair was limp.

"I'm going back out," said Pam.

"Reconsider," Jo told her. "Even if he is out there, with this kind of limited visibility, I don't see how you'd spot him."

"I don't care."

As she rushed for the door, Jo stared at me. "What about you?"

"We'll stay here for a while, then return to the house. Let us know if you find him."

Pam left. Jo put her hat back on.

"Are you armed?" I said.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you carrying your gun?"

She smiled. "No. Weather like this, it could flood. Why? Think I need protection?"

"Anyone could be out there. The hostility down in the village… the rain'll probably keep people away, but who knows? We're all pretty vulnerable traipsing around."

"So?" said Jo.

"So we need to be careful."

"Fine, I'll be careful." She threw the door open and was gone.

I opened the door a crack and watched as she melted into the downpour.

"Why'd you do that?" said Robin when I closed it.

"To let her know I was onto her. Maybe it'll prevent her from trying something, maybe not."

We stood there, then I cracked the door again and looked outside. Nothing, no one. For what that was worth.

"Now what?" said Robin.

"Now we either go back to our room and wait till daylight or you go back and wait and I use the key and see what Gustave's girl can do for us."

She shook her head. "Third option: we both go visit Emma."

"Not again."

"I'm the one who had the pet tarantula."

"That's some qualification."

"What's yours?"

"I'm nuts."

She touched my arm. "Think about it, Alex: where would you rather I be? With you, or alone with Jo next door? There's no reason for her to think we have any way of getting in there. It's the last place she'll look for us, especially if she really is bug-phobic."

"Nancy," I said. "Nancy, Nancy, Nancy."

"Am I wrong? He's a strange old man, Alex, but in a crazy way he's left a logical trail. Maybe we should see the rest of it, Mr. Hardy."

I checked again twice. Waited. Checked again. Finally we snuck out.

Staying out of the path-lights as much as we could, we took a tortuously slow route to the big building. Stopping several times to make sure we weren't being followed.

The rain kept battering us. I was so wet I forgot about it.

There, finally.

The three new locks were dead bolts.

The key fit all of them.

One final look around.

I pushed the steel door and we slipped in.

It closed on total darkness- the windowless anteroom.

Safe to turn on the light.

The space was exactly as I recalled: empty, the white tiles spotless.

And dry.

No one had entered recently.

We squeezed out our clothes. I shut off the lights and pushed open the door to the main room.

Cold metal handrails.

Robin's hand even colder.

A softer darkness in the zoo, speckled by pale blue dots in some of the aquariums.

Muted moonlight struggled through the two windows Jo and Pam had broken. Each was dead center in the long walls, the glass punched out but the wire mesh remaining. Water shot through on both sides, making a whooshing noise, hitting the sill, and running down to the concrete floor, collecting in shiny blots.

Something else shiny- window shards, sharp and ragged as ice chips.

We waited, giving our eyes time to adjust.

The same rotten produce odor. Peat moss, overripe fruit.

Steps down. Thirteen, Moreland had said.

I took in the central aisle, rows of tables on each side, the work space at the far end where he concocted insect delicacies.

Movement from some of the tanks, but again, the rain overpowered the sounds.

Thirteen steps. He'd said it twice, then counted each one out loud.

Making a point? Knowing this night would eventually come and preparing us for a descent in the dark?

I took Robin's hand. What I could see of her expression was resolute. Step number one.

Now I could hear it. Scurrying and slithering as we got closer to the tanks.

Even as we searched for Moreland, I knew we wouldn't find him. He had something else in mind.

Welcome to my little zoo.

Gustave's girl will be assisting…

The little glass houses were dark and identical. Where was the tarantula?… On the left side, toward the back.

As I tried to pinpoint the spot, Robin guided me to it.

The cage was dark, the mulch floor still.

Nothing on the table nearby.

Maybe Moreland had removed the creature and left something in its place.

I stooped and looked through the glass.

Nothing for a moment. Maybe I'd misunderstood. I started to hope- Emma shot up out of the moss and leaves, and I fell back.

Eight bristly legs drummed the glass frantically.

The spider's body segments pulsed.

Half a foot of body.

Slow, confident movements.

She's spoiled… eats small birds, lizards… immobilizes… crushes.

"Good evening, Emma," I said.

She kept stroking, then scooted back down and sat in the mulch. Light from a neighboring tank hit her eyes and turned them to black currants.

Focused black currants.

Looking at Robin.

Robin put her face up against the glass. The spider's lipless mouth compressed, then formed an oval, as if pushing out a sound.

Robin tickled the glass with one fingertip.

The spider watched.

Robin made a move for the top lid and I held her wrist.

The spider shot up again.

"It's okay, Alex."

"No way."

"Don't worry. He said she wasn't venomous."

"He said she wasn't venomous enough to kill prey, so she crushes."

"I'm not worried- I have a good feeling about her."

"Women's intuition?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"I just don't think this is the time to test theory."

"Why you and not me?"

"Who says it has to be anyone?"

"Why would Bill put us in danger?"

"His being reasonable isn't something I'd take to the bank."

"Don't worry."

"But your hand-"

"My hand's fine. Though you're starting to hurt my wrist."

I let go and before I could stop her, she nudged the lid back half an inch and was dangling her fingers in the tank- that damned dexterity.

The spider watched but didn't move.

I cursed to myself and kept still. Sweat mixed with the rain on my skin. I itched.

The spider pulsed faster.

Robin's entire hand was in the tank now, hanging limply. The spider compressed its own mouth again.

"Enough. Pull it out."

Her face expressionless, Robin let her fingers come to rest near the spider's abdomen.

Touching tentatively, then with greater confidence.

Stroking.

The tarantula turned languidly, spreading to accept the caresses.

Nudging up against Robin's undulating fingers.

Covering them.

Encompassing Robin's hand.

Robin let the animal rest there for several moments, then slowly lifted her hand out of the aquarium.

Wearing the spider like a grotesque hairy glove.

Bending her knees, she placed her palm flat on the table. The spider extended one leg, then another. Stretching again… testing the surface. Peering back toward its home, it walked off the hand. Then back on.

Nosing Robin's fingertips.