For once, Darcy’s conversation was remarkably direct. “I know where she is.”

Patrick felt a deep sadness in his heart. He knew the boy had a crush on Susan. Even if he wasn’t physically demonstrative, his devotion couldn’t have been more evident. Given his preexisting emotional fragility, her disappearance must be tearing him up. “Did you have a dream about her?”

“I know where she is! I figured it out.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Darcy grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Did you know that in World War II the Allies invented a code that could only be solved if you had a special machine because they used hidden cells and multiple substitutions and-and-” His voice began to break up, like it was tumbling into a funnel. “Did you know that these codes are impossible to solve and that must be why the Bad Man used it when he wanted to say something that we wouldn’t get until it was too late?”

Patrick didn’t know what to do. If this were a normal man, he’d think he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. With an autistic, he didn’t know what it meant. Except that he needed help. “I know you’re good with codes. You figured out what Edgar’s warning said-”

“But not what it meant!” Darcy flapped his hands, rocking back and forth. He broke away from Patrick and circled around the desk, again and again, with increasing speed. “My dad says I don’t get jokes.”

“Well, sometimes I’m not the quickest-”

“But I do! I do get jokes. Maybe I don’t think they’re funny, but I know when people are kidding, some of the time. I knew when the other kids were making fun of me.”

“Darcy-”

“But I hate puns. Why should one word have more than one meaning? It’s confusing and it doesn’t make any sense.”

His agitation was intensifying. Half the office was watching now. Out of the corner of his eye, Patrick saw Madeline go for Chief O’Bannon, probably thinking he was the only one who could get the boy under control. “Darcy, I think the best thing would be for you to go home now. Get some rest. If anything happens-”

“You thought he spelled it wrong!” Darcy shouted. “But he didn’t spell it wrong. He’s too smart for spelling wrong. It was a clue.”

“What?”

“About dam. ‘Damn you.’ But he left off the n. Because he didn’t mean that kind of dam.”

“As I recall, he misspelled a couple of words.”

“To fool us. He’s smart and tricky. You said so in your paper. ‘The subject is possessed of extraordinary intelligence and imagination.’ So why would he misspell words?”

Despite Darcy’s convoluted, histrionic manner, Patrick was beginning to grasp his point. “Are you saying-?”

Darcy climbed up on the desk chair and began jumping up and down. “She’s at a dam! He took her to a dam!”

O’Bannon appeared at the top of the stairs. “Come on, Darcy. Let’s go home.”

“She’s at a dam! You have to go and find her!”

Somehow, O’Bannon managed to drag his son away, apologizing to everyone as they passed. Darcy kept on screaming. He looked back, his hands stretched toward Patrick.

“Go to the dam! Go to the dam!”

Patrick fell back into a desk chair. Was it possible?

Hoover was the closest and most famous dam, but hardly the only one. How could they know? It was probably nonsense. He couldn’t take tips from a hysterical autistic boy. Surely they weren’t that desperate. If there was any chance of finding her, it would only come from good solid detective work. Surely.

“You aren’t real,” I said as I ran my fingertips down David’s perfectly sculpted chest.

“Does it matter?” he replied. “I’m the only game in town.”

I laughed and pulled him closer. “Do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know. That thing you do.”

“With… what part of my body?”

“Your nose, silly.” I laughed. I loved it when he was like this, all tender and attentive. Happy. No moods, no complaints, just him and me. “The way you crinkle it.”

“I do not crinkle my nose. That’s a girl thing.”

“You do. Sometimes.”

“I do not.” He pressed against me, letting me feel the ripple of his rib cage, his strong thighs pressing between mine. Letting me remember how it was before…

And then he took me. All in a rush, the way I liked it best, the way that always gave me goose pimples. Orgasm was nothing compared to the creeping, dizzying head rush that hit when he came after me like that. It was all I could do to breathe, to prevent myself from perishing from a surfeit of pleasure.

“Susan?”

I blinked rapidly. That wasn’t David.

A shadow fell across my face. “I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“Patrick…” I grinned a little. “Could you wait a minute? My husband and I were having a thing…”

He put his hand on my forehead. “Why didn’t you stay where Edgar left you?”

“I wanted to stay. David told me I should go.”

“David?”

“That’s what Edgar wanted, you know. He wanted me to stay at that place and he wanted-well, he didn’t get it. I wouldn’t give it to him.”

“You’re delusional, Susan. Which is no surprise, given your condition.” He shouted over his shoulder. “Can I get some help?”

I laughed. “Whatever. You’re not real, anyway.”

He kept on shouting. “Get a stretcher! Start the IV! She’s dehydrated and starved, with a serious case of exposure.”

“You shouldn’t be looking,” I said, giggling a little. “I’m naked.”

“Not anymore.” He spread his coat over me. It felt warm and scratchy. “We’ll get you to a hospital.”

“No, you won’t. I’m just dreaming you. But it’s a good dream. Nice of you to come.”

“I didn’t come alone.”

A moment later, I saw Darcy rush forward, hovering behind Patrick. “Susan!”

Good grief, who let him into this hallucination? “Darce.” I tried to wiggle my fingers but couldn’t. “Nice to see you too.”

His face was weird, eyes wide and kinetic, as if he were being pulled a thousand directions at once. Just as well that he was a stoic sort who wasn’t comfortable with human contact, because-

“Ooof!”

Darcy threw himself on top of me, squeezing me in his arms. “Susan! Susan!”

Well, I couldn’t dream this, could I? “Darcy?” I said weakly.

He was screaming and crying all at once. The volume made me wince, another element I couldn’t be dreaming. “I told them it was a dam. I told them it was a dam.”

“All right, son, please move aside. Let us get her into the ambulance.”

I could tell he didn’t want to let go. Funny thing was, I didn’t really want him to let go. But they pried him away and hoisted me onto a stretcher. Darcy insisted on riding in the ambulance with me. I could tell Patrick didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t want to take the time to argue about it.

It was a pleasant little ride to the hospital, my friends all around me. I slept a little, listened a little, maybe both at the same time. It was nice. Darcy held my hand the whole way.