Cyn looks at the toilet, then looks at Alex. Alex laughs.

“No, I don’t want to watch, Cyn. I’m not a pervert. Let me help you with your pants.”

Alex reaches down and shoves Cyn backward, into the shower. Less mess there.

With her hands tied Cyn lands hard on her butt. As she starts to scream Alex forces the steak knife between her ribs, the blade twitching in her grip as Cyn’s heart tries to keep beating.

Alex checks her uniform, happy that she managed to keep it blood-free. As Cyn dies, feebly trying to remove the knife-impossible because suction is keeping it in-Alex drops her pants and urinates in the toilet.

“Now who’s the pervert?” she says, closing the shower curtain to block Cynthia’s staring. Then she wanders back to bed, undresses, orders a wake-up call for five a.m., and sends Jack the latest picture of Lance, along with another text message. She falls asleep to a pay-per-view slasher movie, amused because the writer got the violence all wrong.

CHAPTER 25

THE PHONE WOKE ME UP. In the darkness of the Bronco’s front seat, I fumbled around for my purse and located it by my feet. On the third ring I fished it out and flipped the top open, hearing several beeps.

Alex. Sending me another picture. Phin glanced over at me while I accessed it.

Lance appeared even worse than before, his face contorted with pain and blurred by motion. The lighting was a little better this time, the burn marks on his chest darker and more pronounced. I held it up for Phin, who divided his attention between the photo and the road.

“Are those letters?”

“Where?”

“His wounds,” Phin said. “Connect the dots.”

I traced my fingernail over the burns, and the letters seemed to pop out at me.

There was also a text message.

FOUR HOURS LEFT.

“What the hell is Zd?” I asked.

“One of the elements? Zirconium?”

“That’s Zr.”

“Maybe an abbreviation. Or initials.”

I closed my eyes, tried to think. Zd meant absolutely nothing to me. Maybe something in connection with Lance? Bomb squads? Some kind of explosives or equipment? Or something to do with Milwaukee?

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Just across the Wisconsin border. Got about forty minutes left.”

I wanted to call Herb, but I promised myself I wouldn’t bother him again. Harry was probably still occupied with the Feds. Hajek was almost certainly occupied with the authorities as well, and I had no delusions that a few strands of hair turned him from adversary into ally. That left Detective Tom Mankowski, still in Indiana. I fished out my personal cell and found his number.

“Lieutenant? I haven’t been able to get in my car yet. Did you talk to Hajek?”

“Yeah. Cop’s name is David Strang, out of Milwaukee. Look, Tom, things have gotten complicated, and I’m persona non grata with both the CPD and the Feds. Alex just sent me another picture. It’s Lance again, but this time the burns on his chest look like letters. Capital Z, small d. Mean anything to you?”

“Not a thing. You sure it’s a Z and not the number 2?”

“Could be a 2. Does 2d mean anything to you?”

“Two-dimensional, obviously, but I don’t see how that’s a clue. Alex did this as some kind of hint, right?”

“Probably.”

“I read her shrink report. She has a genius IQ.”

I sighed. Why did all the serial killers I chased have to be brilliant criminal masterminds? Where were all the psychos with average intelligence?

“I’m forwarding the photo and a text message to you. Pass it along. If the Milwaukee PD finds Lance, let us know. We’re going to keep searching until we hear news.”

Hopefully the news would be “he’s safe” instead of “he’s dead.”

“Happy hunting, Lieut.”

Mankowski hung up. I spent a few minutes fiddling with the cell phone, sending him the info.

“We’re also low on gas.”

I nodded, my mind attacking the Zd problem. What the hell was Alex trying to tell me? Zee dee. Two dee. Zee dee. Two dee…

“Wasn’t she one of the girls on The Facts of Life?” Phin said. “Tootie?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Six or ten times.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I’m pretty sure Alex isn’t pointing us to an old sitcom.”

“Apartment number?”

“Two dee. That works.”

“Something to do with the Marines? Squad 2d?”

“I’m drawing blanks.”

Alex’s phone rang. I steeled myself, answered.

“What do you want, Alex?”

“Not Alex. It’s Harry. I called on that phone because they’re tracing and tracking your other one. Stay off of it.”

Stupid. Now they knew Mankowski was helping me. How was I supposed to catch Alex when I was making rookie mistakes?

“Aren’t you in federal custody, McGlade?”

“Hell, no. I cut a deal.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “What kind of deal?”

“Jesus, Jack. Don’t be so paranoid. I’m not going to betray my own flesh and blood.”

“It’s Phin?” I asked. “I thought you two were friends.”

“It’s not like he’s an innocent bystander, Jackie. He robbed a bank. You do the crime, you do the time. Point is, now I’ve got some breathing room, and I’ve been looking at that photo of Lance.”

“His name is David Strang.” I gave Harry the blow-by-blow.

“Good. Send me the new pic and text. And don’t bother with residential. He’s in a hotel or motel, maybe a bed and breakfast.”

“How do you know?”

“In the upper right-hand corner of the picture, on the nightstand, under the pigstick. Looks like the edge a red piece of paper. I enhanced the detail.”

“What is it?”

“It’s when I use a computer program to tighten the pixel pattern by adjusting contrast and color.”

He did that on purpose. I kept my voice even.

“What did the enhancement show you, McGlade?”

“It’s part of a Do Not Disturb sign. So she’s holding him in a room somewhere.”

“How many hotels in Milwaukee?”

“Lemme check.” I heard fingers on a keyboard. “According to the Yellow Pages, only about six hundred. But that might include some overlaps.”

“Search for Zd and 2d.”

“Searching. A million hits on Zd. Wine. Digital cameras. Nothing pops out. For 2d, got two hundred million hits. Looks like a lot of computer tech stuff. Lemme try to cross-ref with Lance’s name, motels, Milwaukee, and so on. Maybe a combination of terms will give us something. I’ll call you back.”

Harry hung up. My stomach rumbled, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything. That made me remember the steaks I owed Herb. While waiting for Harry I put in a call to 1-800-MEATS4U and their twenty-four-hour customer ser vice representative suggested the Meat Lover’s Package, which included assorted steaks, burgers, chicken filets, and a Turduckinlux. I opted for the BBQ flavor over the savory garlic and rosemary.

Phin pulled into an oasis, up to the station. He parked, switched off the truck, and unbuckled his belt. But rather than get out and pump gas he sat there, staring straight ahead, fingers drumming the steering wheel.

“Harry going to turn me in?”

I nodded. “I’m surprised. I thought you guys had that macho code of honor thing. Death before betrayal and all that.”

“McGlade doesn’t owe me anything.”

“So you would betray him too?”

“If I had to.”

“Would you betray me?”

Phin stared at me, his blue eyes hard.

“No.”

Which made me feel even worse about almost shooting him. He opened his mouth to say something more, probably to explain himself, and I didn’t want to hear it so I put my finger over his lips to silence him. His mouth parted slightly, my fingertip brushing against the top of his teeth, and I pulled away and got out of the car before I gave in to all the dirty things I was thinking.